The power of a voice mail prompt

This morning, a colleague began his phone message by thanking me for me "wonderfully pleasant" voice mail prompt. He said that it even made him want to change his own voice mail prompt.

To be honest, I don't even remember how my voice mail prompt sounds. I probably haven't changed it since I began working at my current job nearly four years ago. But I'm glad that at that time I took the time to make the prompt something positive.

Having a cheerful voice mail seems to have been a simple way to make a difference.

An office missionary "convention"

I was recently forwarded the details about an upcoming retreat at the "Laity Lodge" in rural Texas. Here is a description:

Our retreat will draw together a group of 50 people from across the country who are committed to vocations in the marketplace. Ten will be senior members, like the CEO, and 40 will be junior members, like the young entrepreneur. For four days we will talk and think, pray and eat, by God's grace forming a community of practice that will work to recast the Church's understanding of vocations in the marketplace-deepening visions, developing apprenticeships, all with the vision of transformation. Not a small task.

It is very encouraging to me to see this acknowledgment of the potential spark within an office or a "marketplace" brought forth by people seeking to be holy amidst and through their "ordinary" vocations and professions.

I am grateful for those who are taking the time to think more deeply about it.

To be an office worker of mercy

After teaching my 8th grade CCD students about the corporal and spiritual works of mercy a few weeks ago, I have been trying to incorporate them in my own life.

I wrote them out and taped the list to the inside of my closet door. At the end of the day, I try to check the list and ask myself, "How have I been able to be a man of mercy today?"

In my job, I think that there is often the need to "bear wrongs patiently," one of the spiritual works of mercy.

One situation, in particular, that comes to mind is my colleague "Jake" who has repeatedly attributed an idea to me that isn't actually mine but is his.

Albeit, it might be more offensive it he were to do to the opposite, but at the same time I don't particularly like this idea and would have preferred for him to have kept the ownership.

From one angle, I imagine that he is crediting the idea to me to spare himself of the responsibility. (I could be completely wrong.)

Nevertheless, to object or to initiate a discussion over who contrived the idea seems to not be the right move. It would be an unnecessary challenge to his perspective and would not seem to bring Jake any benefit. Instead, each time he (wrongly) cites me for this idea, I am seeking to patiently bear it.

A "Catholic difference"? (Part 3)

My uncle recently sent me an article about Jack Griffin. He was the CEO of Time Incorporated (publisher of Sports Illustrated, Time, and People magazines). Then he was fired. Among other possible causes of Mr. Griffin's dismissal, one article mentioned his Catholic faith:

Griffin, who is a Roman Catholic, made some in the company uncomfortable by referring to his faith during meetings and interactions with subordinates, two execs told The New York Times.

In previous posts, I have mentioned the difference that being Catholic might make in an office. In this case, did being Catholic make the wrong kind of "difference"?

Or was it the case of something separate? In the article from my uncle, the phrase "unable to gain the faith of his employees" caught my attention. On one hand, perhaps Mr. Griffin courageously gave witness to his faith even at the expense of his professional standing.

Indeed, I take encouragement from the example of someone unafraid to share their faith, even explicitly, within their office.

But on the other hand, perhaps it was this inability to build a rapport with his colleagues that made the witness of his faith more "distant" to them.

With this possibility in mind, I also take heed of the importance of building genuine relationships with others who ultimately be encouraged by another's faith.

In any case, I again pray for the grace to balance courage and prudence within my mission field.

Imitation aim: Thoughtfulness

At the office, I would like to be more like my colleague "Audrey."

She led a small project that recently finished. I was part of the project. A few days ago, I and others received handwritten notes from Audrey. Mine included,

"Thank you for your contributions to our small testing team ... Your upbeat spirit and fun remarks helped carry us all through longer testing activities ... Best wishes to you as you continue working towards your goals ..."

This unnecessary but significant act of humility and thoughtfulness made an impression on me. It certainly was a way to share Christ's light within an office.

Office fooling!

One year ago, on April 1, I emailed the colleagues in my hallway:

As you may know, every year, Washington DC hosts a very popular “Cherry Blossom Festival,” featuring the striking pink and white blossoms from the trees donated by Japan in 1912 as an act of goodwill (c.f., http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cherry_blossom).

You may also know that in the evenings, inspired by an adventurous appetite, I have recently begun studying at a local culinary institute to become a non-dessert pastry specialist.

This year, I decided to combine the local festival with my new trade and made a full batch of “Cherry walnut marshmallow raisin scones” to share. (Yes, this is an original recipe. “Cherry trees” and “cherry scones,” do you get it?)

Because of the presence of both walnuts and marshmallows, it is important to keep the scones slightly chilled. Herein, I have left several dozen in the small cooler with the orange top in the printer room. Please give them a try if you would like!

Then, I put the small cooler with the orange top in the printer room, empty except for a note that said "April Fools!"

As people filed into the printer room one by one, I listened with amusement from down the hallway. "Oh man, he got me!" I heard, and "Well, those scones were sure 'low-calorie.'"

On the whole, I think that it brought many people a good laugh.

+++ +++ +++ +++

This year, I tried a different approach. Instead of playing a joke, I did what I had joked about last year.

I made cherry bars this year, and to my colleagues, I wrote,

This year, I really did make cherry walnut oatmeal bars. Feel free to stop by my office to give them a try. Since I never did actually enroll in a a culinary school, maybe you can give me some tips on my recipe.

Ironically, some of them were determined not to be fooled twice and didn't believe me at all this year. But by now most of them have discovered the truth. I've certainly gotten them thinking, and I think that it again has had a positive effect.

I think that having a light-hearted spirit in an office is a good way of indirectly sharing the joy of Christ.

A "Catholic difference"? (Part 2)

I am thinking of two people.

The first person is a member of my parish. This is where I meet him. He is a nice guy. I see him at Mass on Sunday. Later, I realize that he too is a mathematician and works for an employer similar to mine.

The second person is a colleague. I have met him at work. Like others in our field, I respect his technical expertise. Later, I find out that he too is Catholic. Occasionally, I go to Mass at his parish on my way to work and see him there.

In a sense, I may think of the first man as "a Catholic who happens to be a mathematician" and of the second man as "a mathematician who happens to be Catholic."

Is there a difference?

For me as a fellow Catholic, there may be no difference. I recognize the necessity for a Catholic to integrate his faith and his work: to be a "good Catholic" on the job and to do well at a job as an expression of the values of faith. Both of these men are valuable role models to me.

But if I was not Catholic, would there be a difference in the potential for these men to be an "undercover missionary" to me?

A "Catholic difference"? (Part 1)

One of the speakers at the retreat that I attended this past Saturday was introduced as a psychologist. Taking the microphone himself, he clarified that he was not just a psychologist but a Catholic psychologist, and added "and that makes a big difference."

When I am asked about my job, I say that I am a mathematician. What if I were to add, "and I am a Catholic mathematician"? Would that make a big difference?

Or at the times when I mention that I would in an office, what if I were to add, "and I am a Catholic who works in an office"? Would that make any difference?

Unlike the field of psychology, where Catholic doctrine may make an explicit contribution, I do not know that any actual mathematical ideas can be characterized as "Catholic." (Am I overlooking any?) Therefore, in practice, I probably would not mention my Catholicism when mentioning my occupation.

But, even if the actual mathematics that I do is not influenced by my Catholicism, is the way in which I do that mathematics at all influenced by me being Catholic? To be a Catholic mathematician who works in an office, what would that mean?

Jesus and the Modern Office Man

One of the highlights of my recent trip to Philadelphia was this statue behind St. Charles Seminary.

In it, Jesus is flanked by a kneeling gentleman in a double-breasted suit with a stethoscope around his neck and a book at his feet.

Initially, I assumed that the gentleman was a saint and that the stethoscope meant that he had been a doctor, and I scrunched my brow to think which 19th or 20th century saint had been a doctor.

To the contrary, though, the seminary residents told me that "Jesus and the Modern Man" was erected in the early 20th century and that the man was simply a representative "modern man." The stethoscope and book were symbols of the most modern things of that time.

Though I was slightly disappointed with this explanation (even asking two separate residents just for confirmation), I still found the notion of a man amidst modernity walking with Jesus to be both fascinating and energizing.

In a sense, it was as though the man not only carried this modernity in his possessions, but also incorporated it into his relationship with Jesus, even perhaps therein making that relationship fuller.

(It sometimes seems to me that modern elements can impede our relationship with Jesus. What a challenge to use them to assist that relationship! What an insight!)

A hundred years ago, medicine boasted many of the most cutting-edge technologies. What technologies would join it today? I like to think of the technology with which I'm surrounded at my office and the related ideas as being among this group.

Could I picture myself at my desk in my office in this modern man's place? Can I use these modern elements to grow closer to Jesus and to help others in the same?

Bearing an ashen cross

A few years ago, around this time of year, I had the following exchange at work with "Lindsay":

Lindsay: [Visibly baffled] "Ummm, I think that there's something ... I mean ..."
Phil: "Pardon me?"
Lindsay: "Do you know that you have like dirt or someting on your head?"
Phil: "Unh hunh. Sure. Those are ashes. Today is Ash Wednesday. The ashes used to be in the shape of a cross until I accidentally smudged them."
Lindsay: "Wow. Oh yeah. I think I've heard of that."