The lesson title, "Lord of Our Labor," sounds of indentured servitude and exploitation to a twenty-first century ear attuned to workers’ rights and entitlements. To the discerning Christian, though, it should lead to recognition of the grace involved in work.

From biblical times to the present, rulers have been expected to lead in improvement of the economy and opportunities for productive work. The benevolence of a hereditary leader for those subject to his or her rule led to the medieval term of respect, "Your Grace." The ability to "make a living" is indeed a gift, as anyone knows who has successfully found a good job after a long search.

The care and tending of life forms was a provision of the Creator for the humans he made in his image before the fall (Gen. 1:27–28; 2:15). The problem of humanity going its own way without God is that the infinite possibilities of the Creator are traded for the finite capabilities of the created (Gen. 3:17–19).

Even in his disappointment over the rejection of his wisdom and ways, God equipped Adam and Eve and their descendants with the ability to create and produce for life and well-being on this earth. Every loving parent bearing the image of the Creator participates in that equipping through the rearing of children.

I knew a couple who would come to church each week and request prayer that they would find work. Many fervent prayers were prayed on their behalf over a span of several years and they obtained jobs. But after a few weeks they would be back asking for prayer again.

"What happened?" we would ask.

"Oh, the work was too demanding," or, "We didn’t have enough time to spend on ministry," or, "They didn’t pay us enough to do what they wanted us to do," were the common responses. The couple would then ask the fellowship for money to tide them over until the prayers were answered and they found work. After a while, we caught on that the prayers were being answered with work, but that wasn’t the answer our friends were seeking. Their attitude and needs were a drain on the little congregation and diverted resources from ministry.

Work was key to the building of community in the New Testament church. The communities shared all things in common (Acts 2:44–46). The survival of the communities required production for one’s own needs and the needs of those who could not care for themselves.

Paul made tents and expected others to work a trade in quiet, honest labor (Acts 18:3; Eph. 4:28; 2 Thess. 3:6–12). Paul told the Thessalonians that the productive work was Christ’s will for his followers. "For we hear that some of you are living in idleness, mere busybodies, not doing any work. Now such persons we command and exhort in the Lord Jesus Christ to do their work quietly and to earn their own living" (2 Thess. 3:11–12).

What, then, should be the attitude of Christ’s followers about work? Our commutes, the tools of our trade, the quality of our product, and our compensation must be seen from the perspective of our citizenship in the Kingdom of God. Our performance, Paul wrote to the Colossians, belongs to the Lord, who gave us the ability and opportunity to work in the advancement of his will. "Whatever your task, put yourselves into it, as done for the Lord and not for your (human) masters; since you know that from the Lord you will receive the inheritance as your reward; you serve the Lord Jesus Christ" (Col. 3:23–24).

Work is an opportunity to give ourselves in love, freely living out the assurance that our Creator and Savior provided for us for eternity. Novelist Gail Godwin writes convincingly that one’s life is shaped and nurtured as one lives "the grace of daily obligation," a term to describe vocation and care for those entrusted to our service.1 In such grace we are free to love each other as Christ loved us and to be the kind of beings that we were created in love to be.

We find the meaning of our work through our unique relation to our Creator and in the creativity and strength that Christ has given us as the loving power of our life. In Frederick Buechner’s lovely definition, our true vocation is found in "the place where our deepest gladness meets the world’s deep need."2

We deface that meaning when competition becomes the primary motivation in our work. Comparison is always the enemy of grace. Paul spoke of this when he wrote:

Bear one another’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ. For if those who are nothing think that they are something, they deceive themselves. All must test their own work; then that work rather than their neighbor’s work, will become a cause for pride. For all must carry their own loads. (Gal. 6:2–5 NRSV)

One’s work was referred to as one’s "calling" in the past, when the thought of God was more pervasive in the everyday life of Western culture. We derive the word vocation from this idea. Vocation is the Latin word meaning "to listen." In the biblical narrative we find the fruits of listening in the vocations of men and women like Noah, Abraham, Joseph, Moses, Joshua, Deborah, Gideon, Hannah, Samuel, David, Elijah, Elisha, Isaiah, Jeremiah, Daniel, Mary, Joseph, Jesus, Peter, Paul, John, Steven, and Lydia.

These are men and women who, like us, entered the world made in the image of God, and who, by God’s grace, resisted the evil effort to conform them to the image of someone else. Instead, they performed the unique work that they heard God called them to do in the advancement of his kingdom. Out of this inspiration comes the desire and the courage to do the job well. To "cut-corners," lie, cheat, and steal in our work is to deny that we have a Provider.

Our work, therefore, testifies to a Creator who not only made us but also empowers us in the authority of his lordship to live by the creative gift he implants within us at our creation and the fruit of the Holy Spirit that regenerates us (Gen. 1:27; Gal. 6:2–5). That testimony is expressed in love through our creative and redemptive service for others. Our ability to work well is not a teeth-gritting, self-propelled exercise of survival, but it is a hopeful manifestation of the gift of our life and an act of worship of the Lord to whom we owe our life.

Notes

1. Gail Godwin, Father Melancholy’s Daughter (New York: Avon Books, 1991), 199.
2. Frederick Buechner, Wishful Thinking: A Seeker’s ABC (San Francisco: Harper San Francisco, 1993), 119.

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