Seculosity: How Career, Parenting, Technology, Food, Politics, and Romance Became Our Religion and What to Do About It
In Spiritual but Not Religious, N.T. Wright claims that when we take God out of the mix, we replace him with other things which we worship, and as we worship those things, they control us.
I don't have the book with me--I do so like documentation--but that's the gist of it.
Enter Seculosity: How Career, Parenting, Technology, Food, Politics, and Romance Became Our Religion and What to Do About It by David Zahl, which reviews some of our replacement gods. His descriptions are good, but I wish there were more on why this matters, the impact it has on our lives, and what do to about it. This lacks the depth of Wright, which I miss.
Zahl doesn't really focus on how these elements (work, sex, parenting, technology, etc.) are a form of idolatry, which I think is a miss, but he does hit on the religiosity of these things in our lives. (Hence, the title, which is pretty clever.)
Today I'm reading about how work has become a religion. Seriously. During the school year, I work about 60 hours a week. I deliberately left my computer at home when I was visiting my family in Colorado Springs, but I started getting emails about work, and my anxiety level increased when I couldn't take care of things. I started to panic on Tuesday morning when I couldn't access the internet where I'm staying.
Work, my to-do list, earning money--these all play a major role in my life, sometimes more than family, more than my friends, more than God, if I want to be honest. I like to think it's because I'm so conscientious, but conscientiousness should ideally touch all the parts of my life. I am not alone.
Zahn highlights the problem when he states, "The real question when it comes to our work habits is not so much why we work such insane hours, but why we have come to prefer it." He asks, "Could it be that our careers provide us with much more than a paycheck?" (88).
They do, at least my career does. I am teaching. I love it. I am learning. I am talking about what I learn. I get to explore interesting problems, like how do I get students to risks with their writing, how do I get them to explore new ideas, consider why they think they way they think. It's everything I want.
Zahn summarizes this when he observes, "American prosperity allows more and more people to seek work according to interest and convenience, rather than necessity or parental decree. As a result, part of the attraction to overwork could be the passion and curiosity that more and more people bring to their careers" (89). Our work is interesting, challenging, satisfying.
And as hard as it is, it's easier than dealing with other things, like family and emotions. Zahn quotes columnist Ryan Avent, who comments, "Work is a wonderful refuge" (91).
More than that, work forms my identity. Instead of seeing myself primarily as a mom, or a wife, or a friend, or the daughter of the God, I see myself as a teacher. Zahn says our work "is where we locate our enoughness" (92); it is the place where we receive satisfaction, a sense that we matter in the world.
That's a problem. What happens when we retire? When we get laid off or fired? When we become disabled? If our work forms our identity, then leaving career/work leaves our without an identity, and we are just lost.
- I think of Duane and how he struggled when his shoulder injuries left him with chronic pain and the inability to work. He struggled. What would he do with his life?
- I think of Hedda, my colleague, who continues to work at age 84. It's not the money--it's her life.
- In contrast, I think of my friend Denise, who had a long-term career in law enforcement. She was successful, but that was not her identity, and when she retired, she found new things to do, joyful things. I think--I'm not sure--she never missed a beat.
My career is relatively new. I started teaching at SDSU as a grad student ten years ago. I feel compelled to work harder, try new things, prove my work. I have taught as many as 26 units in a semester. (15 is full time)
I'm not working as many hours now, but for financial reasons, I'm teaching at two schools, working greater than full time. And I'm taking on extra things. Conference presentations. Research. I love this stuff, but when do I stop working? When is it enough?
Zahn asserts, "When it comes to enoughness, productivity and performancism often work in tandem. Rarely do you find one without the other. You could say that the cult of productivity worships the god of success, and you wouldn't be wrong" (95). In other words, it's not enough finish the to-do lists. It's not enough to stay on top of grading, to have lesson plans. I need more. I need recognition. I need success, to stand out, to "climb the extra rung on the latter" (96). Sigh.
This summer, Julie and I are working on two presentations for the IWCA conference in October. I am headed to Baltimore to learn how to be a better writing center director, to learn writing center research strategies, do learn something. I need to put together course readers, syllabi, Blackboard shells, new courses.
It's never enough, of course.
In The Forgotten Way, Ted Dekker reminds readers to find their identity, their enoughness, in God. First, they must remember God's identity, his greatness, his sovereignty, his love, his power, and then to see ourselves in him, as his children, his beloved sons and daughters. As such, we pull our identity and our enoughness in him. That's a good stopping place for today, a good reminder of what really matters.
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