Showing posts with label Redemptive. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Redemptive. Show all posts

Wednesday, June 6, 2012

Private Huntsman & General Eisenhower, A D-Day Reflection on Work


Private Ken Huntsman upon graduation from basic  training. 

68 years ago my father-in-law, Ken Huntsman, landed on a hostile beach in Normandy along with 150,000 other members of the Allied Forces. Their mission was to establish multiple beach heads on the French coast from which the eventual march to Germany and the ultimate freedom of Europe would be secured. Planners of the assault expected deaths, casualties and captures amongst the landing force to exceed 50%, but the potential outcome was deemed to be workworthy. 

General Eisenhower, Supreme Commander of the Allied Expeditionary Forces transmitted a message to all members of the force just prior to the invasion, “You are about to embark upon the great crusade, toward which we have striven these many months.” What no one knew then was that General “Ike” carried another note in his pocket, to be used if the outcome were disastrous and it read, “Our landings have failed and I have withdrawn the troops. My decision to attack at this time and place was based on the best information available. The troops, the air and the Navy, did all that bravery could do.  If any blame or fault attaches to the attempt, it is mine alone.”

It is impossible to know who showed greater valor on D-Day; the men who went ashore under heavy machine gun fire and bombardment, scrambling around obstacles and barb wire or General Eisenhower who sent the soldiers ashore knowing that many of those men were going to a certain personal  apocalypse. Privates and Generals all did their parts to secure a single success at great hazard to themselves.

And while the freedom of Europe does not hang on the outcome of the work you do today, the same lessons are true; work is ensouling and creates dignity when:
  • Our contribution is critical.
  • Our contribution is appreciated.
  • We must muster our bravery to storm our "work beach head."
  • You believe you are fighting for the benefit of the person on your right and on your left.
  • You understand how your contribution fits into the very big, epic picture.
  • No person is deemed to be unimportant, based on their rank. Every person counts.
Ken marched from Normandy to Germany. When he returned to the US, to his young bride Lucille and toddler son Ron in Missouri, he bore scars on his soul from his sacrificial service. They were not physical, but they were substantial and they were lifelong.

My wife Kathi likes to share this favorite childhood memory: One afternoon she walked through the bedroom where her father was taking a nap.  He was obviously fast asleep when he spoke these words loudly and clearly, “Hi, I’m Ken Huntsman, Man of the Year!” 

Indeed he was. Oh that we could all awake proclaiming the same of ourselves!

Wednesday, December 21, 2011

Soul-Killing

 “A lot of work is soul-killing.”

Whenever I share this opinion, I ordinarily get strong agreement from whomever my conversation is with.  And this agreement does not seem to vary much regardless of where in this world the person works. It is globally true.  It does not seem to matter what position in their company’s organizational chart a person holds, folks in customer service seem to experience the same angst about their work as do executives. Level of income also has little effect; both rich and poor often hate their jobs or, at best, see them as a necessary evil.  I have to credit rock band Radiohead for putting words to my own sense that all is not right about the way we do work.  Their lyrics from the song “No Surprises” resonate for many people across many different boundaries, “A job that slowly kills you…with no alarms and no surprises.”

Something is terribly wrong.  I am not saying that work for many people is simply boring or a necessary evil or unpleasurable.  I am arguing that it is soul-killing.  I believe that the ancient Greeks used the same word for “aliveness” as they did for “ensouled,” so what I am saying is that work is draining many people of their  “aliveness.” How can we stand for a condition that is essentially a terminal illness for our souls?  What are we if we are not alive?

What I believe and what I want to strive for is the kind of work that is “redemptive.”  And the term “redemptive” applies in both the economic and theological sense of the word.  I have a vision for workplaces that buy back the meaning in life that drains from us nearly every single day.  Workplaces can be communities that ensoul us. 

My hope for this blog is to talk about the experience of work.  And more precisely, what it takes to create work and workplaces where we will all become more alive.