My other major revelation concerns my personal definition of work.

When I thought of work as a material idea, I associated work exclusively with my secular career.  I started working in the construction industry as a laborer when I was in college.  By the time I was in my mid thirties, I was the Vice President of a $40M a year construction company.  I pursued the American dream just like I was supposed to, achieving significance career advancement and financial security at a young age.

But I could not escape the sense that something was missing.  My perfunctory spiritual life left me unsatisfied despite my successful career.  Unable to shake my unease, I started looking for spiritual answers.

As my spiritual life grew, I left my job, forming a one person consulting company.  My career was still in the construction business.  I still provided for my family.  I had changed venues, but I still chased that same American dream.  And still I felt unease.  In response,  I sought more spiritual progress.  The more gains I made, the more uncomfortable my career became, until I reached the conflict I am now writing about.

The current gain is the notion that work is essentially a spiritual idea.  No longer do I associate work solely with my career.  My work definition broadens to include any task associated with my vocation as Christ follower, and my sub-vocations as husband and father.

Instead of work being primarily about building construction projects, my definition of work now hinges on my vocation as Kingdom builder.  My career is just one subset of work within the greater work that I am called to.

This list is just a hint at all the things associated with my family and my faith that now fall under the heading of work.

• Writing this Blog
• Teaching Franciscan formation
• Coaching youth athletic teams
• Grocery shopping, washing dishes, doing laundry, preparing meals
• Taking care of the family finances
• Exercising

I am extremely fortunate that my career is flexible.  The move I made from employee to consultant allows me to work regularly from home, and to work odd hours.  I am also extremely fortunate to have a wife who is willing to take on her own career.  Without her support and sacrifice, I could never have the freedom to delve into the ramifications of this expanded view of work.

This good fortune, when combined with this expanded view of work, gives me a much better shot at happiness.  I can address the demands of this stressful life, understanding that the vocational demands carry at least as much weight as the career demands, without feeling guilty that I am avoiding work when I choose a vocational activity over a career activity at 10 AM on a Tuesday morning.

Some components of living in this American culture simply can’t be eliminated.  In order to fulfill my vocational responsibilities to my family I do need the money that my career provides.  But being a father with three active boys means the stress of my vocation doesn’t fit real well with the typical 8-5 job.

Embracing everything associated with that stress as the spiritual work I was created to do is freeing and rewarding all at once.

Receiving the grace to understand this is, once again, a gift I don’t know how to say thank you for.

“Those brothers whom the Lord favors with the gift of working….”

As I did so, I immediately recognized that I have never before thought of work as a gift from God.

If these words had read “Those brothers whom the Lord favors with the gift of a loving wife…,” or “Those brothers whom the Lord favors with the gift of children…,” they would not have caused me to hesitate for a moment.

But defining work as a gift from God not only caused me to hesitate, it stopped me pretty much cold.  This is because the word work has always been an essentially secular term for me.  Work is something I do from 8-5, Monday through Friday, in order to provide material support for my family.  It references my secular career, not my spiritual life.  Its a burden to bear, a cross to be born.  When its all said and done, its about money, the root of all evil.

Let me repeat myself for emphasis.  I always thought of work as a material idea, not a spiritual idea.  Therefore I wanted as little to do with it as possible because I find the material so much less important than the spiritual.

Francis turns that on its head.  If work is a gift from God, then it is essentially spiritual at its core and nothing the secular world does, nothing that the culture I live in dictates, can change that.

As long as I remain mindful that work is a gift from God, then my attitude about work changes completely.

For the last couple weeks, I have used my smart phone as a tool to maintain this mindfulness.  In the mornings I set my alarm for 8:55, then 9:55, then 10:55, then 11:55.  When it goes off, I stop what I am doing and spend five minutes praying over the words above.

Doing so keeps me mindful and reinforces this idea that work is a gift from God.  As I pray over the phrase, I experience no doubt about its truthfulness.  Old habits die hard.  I still have to fight the tendency to procrastinate.  But the more I pray over the phrase, the more wondrous I find it.

My attitude is changing.  My pessimism and lethargy are receding.  For the first time in some time, I am starting to put tasks behind me.  It even seems possible I might get caught up to my insanely busy life in the not too distant future.

God is doing this for me.  Francis is doing this for me.

Really, its overwhelming.  Words can not express the gratitude I feel for the change in outlook I have experienced.  For a long time, I have feared such a change was not possible.  I feared that thinking of the burden as cross was the best outlook I could hope for.

But God has proved that wrong.  I just wish I would have sought His help earlier.

A simple “Thank you, God” and “Thank you, Francis” is all I can muster in response.

By the end of last year, I could no longer avoid the conclusion that my work ethic had deteriorated.  I find my developing understanding of the Franciscan ideals of simplicity and poverty in direct conflict with the emphasis on money that is unavoidably inherent in my culture’s understanding of work.  This tie between a gluttonous approach to money and work made my opinion of everyday work so distasteful that I dreaded getting out of bed in the morning.

In acknowledging this paralysis, I also realized I was procrastinating, not just about work, but about everything in my life that needed doing.  When I think about that procrastination, I find it every bit as distasteful as the gluttonous approach to money that contributed to my original problem.

I need something more, a source of work motivation that will allow me to re-embrace a proper work ethic.  I need to find a way to bring the ideals of my secular Franciscan profession and my responsibilities to my family into better harmony.  I understand that according to the SFO Rule there should not be a conflict between the two.  Nonetheless, my reality contains a conflict, so I need a better understanding of those ideals if I am to gain the harmony that this unwarranted conflict is obstructing.

My first approach, of course, is prayer.  My first subject for that prayer is contained in the previous post More from Francis on Work, but I will repeat it here:

“Those brothers whom the Lord favors with the gift of working should do so faithfully and devotedly, so that idleness, the enemy of the soul, is excluded yet the spirit of holy prayer and devotion, which all other temporal things should serve, is not extinguished.”

I have spent a couple weeks on this already.  I know the next post will be on the idea of work as gift.  And I know there is a post coming on a definition of work that is different and much broader than the current cultural connotation I would associate with that word.

I am sure there will be more than that before I am through considering these words.  I know I am fascinated by the idea of work being subservient and contributing to a spirit of holy prayer and devotion, but I have not gotten that far yet.

But I think just this post is a good sign.

I hope it means I am no longer procrastinating about keeping this journal alive and vibrant.

It fits my purpose here well, in terms of my belief that the purpose of existence is the expansion of love.

And it also fits well with my Franciscan vocation if you assume that quiet is synonymous with simple.

1 Thessalonians 4:9-12 

“Now about your love for one another we do not need to write to you, for you yourselves have been taught by God to love each other.  And in fact, you do love all of God’s family throughout Macedonia. Yet we urge you, brothers and sisters, to do so more and more, and to make it your ambition to lead a quiet life: You should mind your own business and work with your hands, just as we told you, so that your daily life may win the respect of outsiders and so that you will not be dependent on anybody.”

After the conclusion of the formation session and before Mass, the fraternity prays the Liturgy of the Hours as a group.  This one Saturday a month is the only time I engage in this type of prayer, so I struggle with the Liturgy, finding it cumbersome and hard to follow.  I’m typically so busy trying to follow format and figure out what page to be on that I don’t get much from the exercise.

This morning I decided not to attempt to say the prayers.  Instead, I listened silently to the words being spoken, hoping that I might gain something by simply being present as my brothers and sisters prayed.

The canticle (Ezekiel 36:24-28, page 990) included these words, which meshed nicely with the discussion on the Holy Spirit that had taken place in my formation group.

“I will give you a new heart and place a new spirit within you, taking from your bodies your stony hearts and giving you natural hearts.”

“I will put my spirit within you and make you live by my statutes, careful to observe my decrees.”

Immediately after this, while I listened to the ongoing prayer with my eyes closed, I thought about what it would be like to levitate during prayer.  As soon as that thought was complete, I followed it with “not for my glory, Lord, but for yours.”

I have this thought regularly ever since reading an account of the levitation of St. Thomas Aquinas.  Hopefully it is not sinful to aspire to a level of holiness where a miracle of this sort might happen to me.

What was different today is that I immediately experienced a deep pang of recognition that revealed to me the dishonesty in my desire.  I knew beyond denying that I wanted this achievement not for His glory, but for mine.  I immediately understood this recognition as a revelation of the Holy Spirit.  And I immediately understood that I could never experience a miracle such as this as long as my motives were so selfish and lacking in humility.

I struggled to grasp and internalize this for the rest of the Liturgy of the Hours.  Then the Mass started and the Gospel was read, and I heard these words from Matthew 23:5 in reference to the teachers of the law and the Pharisees:

“All their works are performed to be seen.”

These words rang in my head as confirmation of the revelation I had just experienced.  I don’t know how else to describe what happened to me except to say that today, Jesus spoke directly to me through the Gospel and the Spirit.

I also don’t quite know what to do about it.  I don’t think I understand how to gain the degree of humility that this revelation of the Spirit is asking of me.

As much as I have considered conversion, I have little confidence that I know how to make this happen for myself.

As much as I desire holiness, I doubt my ability to achieve it at the depth that I had been fantasizing about.

In formation this morning, I emphasized to my group the radical nature of the change that comes when the Holy Spirit is active in your life.  I told them to be prepared for a level of change that will be uncomfortable.  They should expect the Spirit to lead them to a place so radically outside of current societal norms that functioning within society on a day to day basis can be a major challenge.

As many times as I have emphasized the ongoing nature of conversion to my group, I realized today that I have been mistaken about my own conversion, thinking that I had already achieved much when in fact I have so very far yet to go.

Today I found out that in truth I have hardly begun the process.  And other than to pray for guidance and help, I doubt my capacity for achieving what needs to be achieved.

I can’t help but wonder if Jack Minard had something to do with this.  This morning Dick reiterated Jack’s words the last time they spoke.  “I’ll put a good word in for all of you when I get there.”  And thirty minutes ago I got Sister’s email saying Jack had been called home this morning before my day had gotten started.

It’s not hard at all for me to see Jack’s hand in this.  Our questing was similar enough that he would understand more than most how this might impact me.  And he would have relished the chance to put this in front of me, thinking it was just what I needed to keep me moving along the path we shared.

So thanks Jack, for one last challenge, one last gift.

Now I need your help to see it through.  Pray for me, Jack, as I have been praying for you.

I don’t remember any longer exactly what season it was.  Either spring or summer.  I suppose if I knew more about the movement habits of turtles, I could deduce it.  I wish I had time to do the research.

At lunch, I regularly go for a 45 minute walk to get some exercise and break up the work day, which I often spend stuck behind a desk.  This day I had parked along the north side of the river in Mishawaka, at the west end of Battell Park.  I had walked the new path along the north bank to Central Park, crossed the pedestrian bridge just below the dam, and then walked back along the south bank under the Main Street bridge.  I crossed back over the river at the new walking bridge at Buetter Park and started back up the incline that would take me back to my car.

When I reached the top of the incline, an older woman with a gentle, kind voice stopped me.  She was holding a plastic grocery bag on two upturned hands, and also had a dog’s leash looped over one wrist.  She asked me for a favor.  The bag contained a large painted turtle and she wanted me to take it down an old set of stone steps to the river’s edge.

After I agreed she told me, “Thank you very much, I am sure St. Francis would be proud of you.”

Now, I am sure I did not know this woman.  I had never seen or spoken to her before.  So how could she know I was a Franciscan?

After I completed the task, and started back to the car, I realized that the Tau I was wearing was visible at my open collar.  The woman must have understood the symbolism, identified me by it, and figured I was someone safe that she could entrust this little task to since she was probably not confident navigating the steps herself.

Sr. Agnes Marie describes the Tau as “the habit of the Secular Franciscan.”  On this particular day, that was certainly the case.  My Tau clearly identified me to someone who knew what to look for.

I was happy to do this small task for this woman.  I do, however, often wonder whether or not the turtle was happy.  I sure hope it had not just finished climbing the thirty foot embankment of the river as part of its migratory or procreation process, only to be sent back to go by the best of intentions.

This morning I stopped for some quiet, prayerful time before heading to work.  Once again, I tried to consider the word idleness.  But once again, I failed to come to a conclusion.

As soon as I settled in, work intruded.  I could not stop thinking about the open questions that need to be solved, about the difficulty of the schedule, about the selection of the remaining contractors, etc., etc.

In that last post, I offered two phrases as having potential for use as focus for prayer.  The first, which I have been trying to come to grips with, was on idleness.

“Idleness is the enemy of the soul.”

The second was this:

“All temporal things should serve a spirit of holy prayer and devotion.”

What has been happening to me as I considered the first, is that the second has been violated completely.  My work life (and my family life as well), instead of somehow fostering a spirit of prayer and devotion, are impeding that spirit almost completely.  Not only is God absent from my thoughts as I go through the chaos of the day, but even when I am outside of work, and I seek solitude to turn my thoughts to God, worldly obligations intrude and disrupt that solitude completely.

So, when I stopped this morning for 45 minutes of quiet, and I did not accomplish much of anything, did I lose that time to idleness?

When I spend the day at work, and God never enters my thoughts, is that time, since it violates the second half of St. Francis’ quote in the last post, actually idle time in its entirety?

I am not sure that “idleness” is exactly the word I would use to describe this dilemma.  My life is, in fact, insanely busy.  Not just with work, but also with the responsibilities of family.

Perhaps, however, busyness is every bit as dangerous as idleness when it comes to the condition of the soul.  Perhaps Francis could have just as easily written “busyness is the enemy of the soul” as he wrote “idleness is the enemy of the soul.”

If that’s the case, then maybe the phrase “idleness and busyness are actually synonyms” can be added to the list of the great mysteries of the faith, and I can in fact say that my insanely busy life is dominated by idleness.

And that this will be the case until I figure out how to organize my life such that the busyness does indeed directly foster “a spirit of prayer and devotion” as Francis has so eloquently suggested.

It continues with time issues.  Work has been hectic.  Place upon that the responsibilities of a father and husband, especially a father and husband who coaches his kid’s athletic teams, and losing focus can move from distraction to habit in a day or two.

But in all the time I’ve been gone, the question of how to view work has not left me.  It has been consistent enough that a short time ago, while looking for motivation, I went back to the works of Francis in search of further wisdom.

I found it in the Franciscan Rule of 1223, Chapter 5:

“Those brothers whom the Lord favors with the gift of working should do so faithfully and devotedly, so that idleness, the enemy of the soul, is excluded yet the spirit of holy prayer and devotion, which all other temporal things should serve, is not extinguished.”

In the post Structure in Prayer, step 6 reads “find the couple words that speak to me today.”  The general context of this post is praying with scripture.  But really, any set of words that speak to you at any given point in time will work.

I find two phrases (slightly rearranged) in the quote from Francis on work that I offer here as being worthy of the status of “prayer focus.”  Try one of these in your next session of prayerful meditation if you are currently seeking material.

“Idleness is the enemy of the soul.”

“All temporal things should serve a spirit of holy prayer and devotion.”

I’m hoping they will help me come to grips with the issues I am currently having related to work.

But I am pulled back in, hopefully once again on a regular basis, by a bump from the readings last week.

A couple posts ago (St. Francis on Work, Money), as I considered the Franciscan perspective of work, I quoted St. Francis writing this in The Earlier Rule.

“The Apostle says: Whoever does not wish to work shall not eat. (2 Thes 3:10) and Let everyone remain in that trade and office in which he has been called. (1 Cor 7:24)  And for their work they can receive whatever is necessary excepting money.  And when it is necessary, they may seek alms like other poor people.”

The passage from 2 Thessalonians was one of the Sunday readings last week, so that prompted me to look back at where I left off.

It also happens that I was asked by a friend last weekend about my Secular Franciscan journey.

One of the things I told him is that my overall awareness of my faith has increased greatly as a result of my journey.  I am much more likely now, as my secular life unfolds, to make connections between my faith experience and the things I am faced with on a day to day basis.

In particular, my immersion in the Gospel through this blog has caused me to think of the Gospels in much more practical terms than ever before.

The SFO Rule, at the beginning of Chapter 2, includes this statement:

“Secular Franciscans should devote themselves especially to careful reading of the gospel, going from gospel to life and life to gospel.”

At the beginning of my journey, I would have likely characterized this instruction as wishful thinking.  I would have believed that the Gospels were not readily applied to problems in the modern world.

But now, I feel exactly the opposite.  I am amazed on a regular basis by just how practical the Gospels are.

This new ability to link scripture and my everyday life is also reflected in my reaction to the readings last week.  Early in my journey, I typically sat through the Sunday readings without really connecting to them.  Now they are relevant to me, relevant enough that they influence my everyday life.

I do not profess to be anything close to what I need to become, but at least now I know that my formation has, to some extent, a life of its own.

God now reaches me much more often through His sacred scripture than I ever allowed Him to before.

“I am left to ask, if the purpose of work is not the earning of money, what is the purpose of work?”

Then, in the last post (Matthew Chapter 24), I suggested this as a mission statement for a committed Christian:

“I am unequivocally committed to keeping the love of Christ ablaze in my heart, and each day I will make this love apparent to every person I encounter in an unmistakable way, trusting that Jesus will surely use me, little by little, to decrease the wickedness in the world, and thereby advance His Kingdom.”

Is it possible that the second entry is the answer to the first question?  Is it possible that, at least for some, the purpose of work ought to be defined in terms of representing the love of Jesus?  If those who might answer this question “yes” are few and far between, can anyone who feels called to say “yes” afford to ignore that call?

Could a profit motive coexist with such a definition of work?  Or is St. Francis so adamant about not accepting money because it is essentially impossible to represent the love of God purely and seek profit at the same time?

In more concrete terms, if you run a clothing store, and a naked person walks in, would you clothe them even if they could not afford to pay?  If the answer is yes, could your business survive?  If the answer is no, are you representing love?

Would such a job be the purview of only a Priest, Sister, or Brother?  Or is it possible that such jobs exist, or could be created for, the laity?  Are lay persons working in charity now following such a definition, or do even charities have rules that inhibit how successfully they present the face of love?

How would the job description read?  Is it possible that somewhere on the planet, right now, there is a job that has such a job description associated with it?  How revolutionary would it be to take the second quote above and use it as a job description for a new endeavor?  If you did, what else would that endeavor need to succeed?

Even as a Secular Franciscan, I can’t realistically accept a job that has no money associated with it.  But is it possible that there are jobs available that combine such a definition with enough money to support my family?

Would my family sacrifice if such a job were available, but it paid less than our current income?

They are not Franciscans.  It is right for me to ask them to sacrifice?  Would requiring such a sacrifice be callous, or would it be setting the best possible example?

Lots of question, but few clear answers, at least for now.