One of the best bits I’ve seen lately was a Daily Show clip montage poking fun at how Obama seems to be working on everything, including reading Pakistani Urdu poetry, except the economy. It concluded with a punch line from the cable business anchor receiving breaking news. “This just in: the job market still sucks.”
I sympathize with those unfortunate enough to be in this tough job market. I started my career in the 2001 recession and its stinking job market. Entering the workforce stunk. Despite having very stellar and exceptional collegial accomplishments and a year of work experience overseas, I couldn’t find a job. I applied everywhere, for everything, but it just seemed like I couldn’t catch a break. No one would hire me to a “real” career. Optimism soon turned to despair. Several of my other friends were in the same boat, and as the resumes we sent out reached into the hundreds and the interviews became dozens, we compared our interviewing responses and techniques to keep our spirits up and trade advice.
Still nothing, no jobs. Then these conversations about our interviews became more cynical. “Maybe I need to lie to get the job. Maybe I need to act like someone I’m not. Maybe I need to proposition the boss’ ugly daughter”—OK, the last “maybe” is a bit of an exaggeration.
As a guy, when you don’t have a job you feel like you don’t have any worth. As despair sets in, you can pretty much loose your mind. I thought about the questions prospective employers asked and poured over my resume line by line. In the height of my madness, I began to believe that my employment woes were because I appeared to be too religious, and I wasn’t being hired because I was a Christian. For example, when employers would ask about what I did right out of college, I talked about my business experience in the Korea working as a junior business administrator at the seminary. I was paranoid that because I had worked at a seminary, I was less desirable to employ.
So I decided to get rid of anything in my resume that made me seem religious. Administration at a seminary, out. English teacher at a Christian school, out. Medical missions to poor rural areas, out. Organizing and teaching Sunday school, out. Degree in Christian Studies, out. A dozen other accomplishments from which a religious worldview could be presumed were removed.
The problem was, my resume was pretty tiny after the purge. Finally, I came to the conclusion I couldn’t get rid of them. Either I’d look substantially less qualified than I really was, or I would present myself as someone who I was not. My faith and my resume were inseparable.
The thought hit me—I couldn’t hide Jesus in me. I just couldn’t, even if I wanted to. For one moment of this season of insanity, everything became clear. Even if I wanted to hide my faith, an employer who didn’t know me knew in the thirty seconds he took looking at my resume that Christ was a part of my life.
In that moment of clarity, I knew I was doing all right, that I was on the right track. A job would come soon enough, but more importantly, my life was counting for something greater than myself. I was doing a good job in the only career that really mattered, the Father’s business.
Christ says, “You are the light of the world. A city on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before men, that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in heaven.” (Matthew 5:14)
The job market stinks yet again. Every once in a while, when business is slow, I wonder if I’ll need to venture back into the job market. I cringe thinking about repeating those unpleasant job hunting days. For some reason, I cringe at the thought of creating a new resume.
Then I think about that verse. “Cannot be hidden”—cannot. I think about the days when my faith wasn’t just something that leaked out of a resume. It was who I was. My faith couldn’t be hidden. I wonder if my faith has shown through in the five years at my employer. I wonder if someone picked up that resume I submitted when I was hired, they’d think they picked up someone else’s resumes. I wonder if my light shines, or if it’s just a dim shadow of what it used to be.
My point isn’t that we should pad our job resumes with spiritual references. No, my point is whether we are being the light of the world. How’s your spiritual resume? Is your faith hidden? Is it bright? Is it shining? Is it impossible to hide? Does it show who you really are, or does it describe someone else?
The job market stinks, but the Kingdom’s still hiring. God’s looking to hire us, our services are wanted… the harvest is plentiful, the workers are few. And Kingdom business is the business that really counts.