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University turmoil makes the case for chaplains

Creating space, offering time, across cultures.
A cup of coffee is offered across a table to a hand that is hesitant.
Priscilla Du Preez 🇨🇦 on Unsplash.

As the university sector convulses, what’s the point of their chaplains? 

The university chaplains fulfil a role which calls for a unique set of skills, including pastoral imagination, flexibility, and creativity as they respond to various, often unpredicted, challenges. Chaplains occupy a place between highly professional Students Services colleagues at the university - think counsellors, experts on emigration and finances, and local parishes representing diverse theological viewpoints.  

Every year, while meeting and greeting international students, one of the earliest tasks for the chaplains is to explain their role, as in non-European languages and cultures there is no equivalent of a “chaplain”. Are the chaplains sort of “spiritual gurus”, “life coaches”, “champions of wellbeing”? What is the real difference for the students and the staff in a secular academic institution, between approaching a chaplain and a professional counsellor?   

In addition to all these initial questions that a student might ask, other observers question the role of chaplains in a secular academic institution, for being counterproductive. Why provide and finance a chaplain without any measurable outcomes of his or her work? Whether it is counting confirmations, ensuring Christian faith and values as clearly pronounced, or/and conducting regular acts of worship for the students and staff? 

Looking at my daily engagement with the international, diverse community of the students and the staff, there are at least three areas of presence (rather being than doing, adapting famous Gabriel Marcel’s distinction), which illuminate this unique type of vocation.  

First, currently British universities are going through a very painful, dramatic time of saving money and redundancies. Chaplaincy is becoming a visible space for emotional support to those who are worried about their immediate future. Students and staff are going through a period of uncertainly, if not confusion, so chaplaincy holds the unique space on the campus to show empathy to those who cry, and to offer time for those who need to speak about their pain.  

Secondly, chaplaincy has the privilege of being very creative in the ways of engaging with the local academic community. The memorial services for the students and the staff who died recently are not the formal funerals: yet they allow the participants to speak, play the music, show videos about the departed.  There is a real celebration of life, brings consolation to academic colleagues, families and relatives.  

Thirdly, unlike other professional services, only chaplaincy is able to show the generosity of time to anyone who comes through the door. That’s because those  individuals are welcome as the ‘image’ of God. The rest about that individual is accidental, he or she finds ‘home away of home’ in the space of chaplaincy, because through the eyes of Christian faith: he or she is precious and unique. 

What about proclaiming the message about Jesus Christ? There is a story about St Francis of Assis who said to his brothers, while approaching an Italian city: “now we will proclaim the Gospel to all who live in this city”. After that he and his companion marched through the streets in silence. When they left the city, one of his brothers, rather surprised by lack of preaching, asked: “Francis, when did we proclaim the Good News?”. “Our way of walking was the proclamation of our faith”. The way how we greet, spend time with students, talk, joke and pray – reflects that proclamation.     

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Can KPIs really measure what matters?

Distilling down worth risks losing something sacred

Rick writes and speaks on leadership, transformation, and culture.

A person leans on a balcony rail.
Which box this year?
Yogi Atmo on Unsplash

I remember recently when I was reduced to a data point. I became an inconvenient name on a spreadsheet. 

"Your services are no longer needed. We have to let you go," he stated with feigned empathy. Just like that, years of my work and contributions - hours, days, weeks, months - ceased to matter. I didn't matter. "HR will contact you shortly to explain the final details. Again, I am truly sorry." 

The Zoom meeting ended, the camera went blank. I sat in my home office, staring at the blank screen of the company-issued laptop. The only sounds were the disheveled thoughts scrambling in my head and the gentle hum of the fan circulating cool air from the ceiling above. All went quiet. Just like that I was reduced to a KPI - a key performance indicator.

Having spent years in the business world, I'm well-acquainted with its dynamics, including hiring and firing. I recognize ambition and its relentless pursuit of progress. Still, it felt like a personal blow, like a scene on Instagram or YouTube you replay endlessly on loop, trying to comprehend, trying to make sense of it all.

As your value is quantified and found wanting, a sacred inner part of you perishes. In that moment, it’s hard to feel the wonder and mystery of your creation. You don’t feel what for centuries has been called the imago Dei - that we humans are made in God’s image. Instead, you think about how you were just told “we don’t need you.” You think about paying your bills? How will this impact your career? Where will you find your next job? 

As a leader, I understand metrics are crucial for business. However, this pervasive culture of metrics has warped our perception of worth. Instead of marveling at the wonder of being made in the image of God, we have become trained to value only what can be counted. We’ve become both deaf and blind to the unquantifiable beauty of human existence.  

We’ve prioritized metrics over people. We’ve created a world where efficiency presides over meaning and productivity overshadows purpose. Ironically, this has crippled entire organizations, not optimized them. Critical components like morale, engagement, and productivity are at an all time low. Just check the numbers. (See what I did there) 

We have built a ruthless culture defined by a dehumanizing machinery of metrics. People have become problems to be optimized rather than mysteries to be revered. 

If we let our job define us and if as leaders we let it define our mystery and those we lead, we succumb to a cancerous, spiritual violence. To treat a person as a set of outputs is to willinging deny our capacity to reflect a divine truth.   

Does it have to be this way?

William Blake's poem, "The Divine Image," eloquently conveys a core theological principle: humanity mirrors the divine, embodying God's very image. We are an irreducible, immeasurable value. 

For Mercy, Pity, Peace and Love

Is God, our father dear

And Mercy, Pity, Peace and Love

Is Man, his child and his care.

Are we imago Dei? Are we the very image of God the first chapter in Genesis speaks of?

Is this true? Are we always irreducible, immeasurable? Or is this just a conversation to have in a broader discussion when contemplating humanity’s place in the cosmos? 

What about the workplace? What about when human worth is distilled into key performance indicators that then become the only thing measured, the only things that defines a person’s worth? What happens when our irreducible human value, this imago Dei is distilled to mere data points on business dashboards? To KPIs.

On one hand, nothing happens; we are still a complex mystery of God’s creation. We are still immeasurable, irreducible. We are imago Dei. On the other hand, something does happen to the person. Something sacred is expunged. Our infinite complexity like emotions, dreams, quirks, ideas, feelings, and virtues are reduced and transcribed into metrics and evaluated against random data sets. Perhaps this is where the shallow quip originates? “It’s not personal. It’s just business.” 

I mean I get it. In the business world, we are a metrics driven culture, quantifiable data points are seemingly the only identifier of worth. It drives the business, right? 

We read in our company handbooks that, “our people make the difference.” In reality, we all know that data is the true currency. It is here, I argue, that the soul gets buried beneath spreadsheets and the image of the divine is lost within a myriad of data sets. 

We must raise a quiet but profound rebellion. 

Our spirit of God’s very image that thrives in a mutual wonder and shared humanity cannot be replaced by a zero-sum race for higher scores. 

Ask someone at work “How are you doing?”, actually listen to them and engage, and only then ask, “How are you doing with your targets?” Metrics are important, but the person behind them is essential.  

When we become our job or when we think those we work with are defined only by how well they do their job, we are all vulnerable to this sacred loss. Our goal is not our job. Our purpose is not how and if we hit our metrics.  Instead, our sole aim should be to seek how to better understand this mystery of this life - this imago Dei - that we have been given and how to share it with others.  

This reminds me of the saying, "Not everything worthwhile can be measured, and not everything that can be measured is worthwhile."

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