Not for Profit

Non-profits are the backbone of our society.  In a world measured by “net worth” some of us are aware that people are more than figures, ciphers on a ledger.  Honestly, I’m impressed by plans for a universal basic income, which seems more humane to me than brutal capitalism with its new first estate.  Since that’s not likely to happen here, however, I look to non-profits and I’m impressed.  Despite the distorted narrative that states those who struggle to get by are lazy (hey, I don’t know many rich people up as early as I am daily!), our economy favors the greedy and the graspy.  That’s why non-profits are so important.  These are corporations or companies that work for something other than making money for themselves.  They have a more civil goal in mind.  They are, in a word, civilization.

I recently attended a cancer research support organization Oktoberfest.  It’s for a small non-profit foundation, local to the Lehigh Valley, but it was amazing how much money it has been able to raise for research.  Like many such foundations, it was born of personal loss and the desire to prevent others from experiencing such loss.  Compare that, if you will, to a company whose business is, well, making money for itself.  See the difference?  One you can feel good about.  The other makes you feel like you should take a shower after work to wash the grime of selfishness from you.  I have worked for profit-making companies and non-profits and there’s no comparison.  Those with money as the only goal tend to be heartless.  If you ever want to feel like chattels, apply here.

Non-profits have to think quite a bit about money, of course, but there’s always more to the picture.  There are discussions of the larger goal, which is generally something for the good of society.  To help people.  I’m not naive enough to think that non-profits can’t get corrupt (lucre corrupts everything), particularly when they get large, but without them there would be so much more suffering in the world.  Becoming “civilized” has been a fraught exercise from the beginning, but it was an effort for individuals who are very different from one another to learn how to live together and cooperate for the good of all.  Capitalism is a means whereby some game the system for personal gain and the rest envy them and want to try too.  Thankfully into this moral morass non-profits have arisen, like oases in the desert.  They are the hope for our society.  Indeed, for civilization itself.


Merch

I recall the time I first heard the word “merch” used as a verb.  I was with some wonderful ladies on the second annual Women’s March, in New York City.  We had to leave fairly early to get there from Jersey and as we made our way to the march route, we saw the goods.  Vendors had all kinds of things on sale, from the ubiquitous tee-shirt to refrigerator magnets.  One of the women in the group said, “I guess you can merch anything.”  And so you can.  People will buy all kinds of identifying marks.  It’s a craze I personally don’t get into.  I buy plain clothes, having more of an Amish aesthetic.  Still, I was a little surprised to notice that the Society of Biblical Literature is now merching itself.

Now, who can blame a non-profit for trying to score a little on the side?  We all know what that’s like.  What I find myself most curious about is who would want to advertise that they’re working on a degree that will, in all likelihood, find them on the breadline when it’s all over?  I’ve known many who’re proud to be nerds—they’ve got employment to give them creds.  Those of us tormented by the meaning of it all, not so much.  My decision to go to grad school was accompanied by the blessed assurance that there’d be plenty of opportunities, but there was no merch.  Indeed, I was two years into my doctorate before  I even found out what the SBL was—the great connector whence came jobs.  At least in theory.  I found my post at Nashotah House because a friend told me about it.  I still have some of their merch.

Knowing what I do now, would I have done it any differently?  It’s difficult to say.  Who can recall the frame of mind of his younger self with such clarity as to know his choices?  Having studied Bible I was curious whence it came—to turn back even further the pages of history.  As I sit here in the early morning I have on my last two remaining pieces of Edinburgh merch.  My moth-eaten woolen divinity scarf and my blue alma mater sweatshirt.  I try hard not to think how close to three decades ago it was.  I was so sure I’d find a job with that rare Scottish degree, imprint of John Knox’s breeches still fresh upon my head.  Instead the merch of my current employer—a coffee mug—stands before me, reminding me that work alone awaits.