Our Daily Work: A Spiritual Resource

     Labor is "the lost province of Christian faith."

— Elton Trueblood

Do you hate to get up and go to work on Monday morning? Do you wish that you could work at something else? Do you suffer physical, emotional, or spiritual symptoms from job stress?

   Each of us has mornings when we would answer a resounding "Yes!" to these questions. Even pastors, teachers, counselors, evangelists, and missionaries have their down days. Saints through the ages have confessed to periods of deep and prolonged depression, best described by St. John of the Cross as the "dark night of the soul."¹

   Yesterday's mail included a copy of a letter from a disillusioned young professor who teaches religion in a Christan college. Writing to a friend who had left Christian higher education for a secular field of work, he vented his frustration about a "foot-dragging administration" which blocked one of his creative proposals. He closed the letter with the bitter words, "I'm even finding it hard to pray. Aren't you glad that you are out of Christian higher education?"

   His disillusionment reminds us that our work directly affects our spiritual outlook. We can also say that our spiritual outlook affects our work. After a long and torturous ride, a

Page 12

circuit rider arrived at a village to hold a revival meeting. Totally fatigued, he wrote in his journal just before collapsing into bed, "There will be no revival here. The people are not ready and the Spirit is not present." The next morning, however, he awakened from a good night of sleep to be greeted by a sumptuous country breakfast. Prayers with the family followed the meal. When the circuit rider returned to his room he made a new entry into his journal which read, "Revival is on the way. The people are ready and I can already sense the moving of the Spirit." It is amazing what a good night of sleep and a hearty meal do for our spiritual outlook as well as for our work.

   What does our work have to do with our spirituality? For most of us, our spirituality is connected with prayer, Bible study, fasting, and worship. Work is something else. Give the average person a work association test in which he or she is asked to say the first word that comes to mind when you mention work. The initial responses are "hassle," "duty," "paycheck," "time clock," "sweat," and "drudgery." Second thoughts usually reveal a more positive attitude toward work with words such as "reward," "challenge," and "excitement."

   Seldom, however, are the words "love, "ministry," "meaning," and "joy" associated with our work. Especially when we think about our spiritual growth, work is put into a world of its own. Secular work, in particular, is separated from our spirituality and is seen as either a testing ground for our faith or a begrudging sidestep on our spiritual journey. Something is wrong. If we believe that our spiritual development encompasses the whole of life, why is our daily work so often considered an eight-hour interruption in our growth?

A TWO-STORY THEOLOGY OF WORK

Throughout the history of the Christian church, the relationship between spirituality and work has been one of debate,

Page 13

confusion, and neglect. Early in Christian history, monks fled to the desert away from the contamination of the world to pursue spirituality through contemplation, self-denial, and hard labor. Later, in the Middle Ages, the theology of the church sliced all of the world horizontally into two distinct layers — the sacred and the profane. According to this split-world view, any activity which took place in the church was "sacred." All other activities which went on outside the church or in the marketplace were downgraded as "profane."

   In their book, Your Work Matters to God, Sherman and Hendricks identify this attitude as the "two-story view of work." The top floor is occupied by "sacred" work with "secular" work underneath. This two-story world is built upon the unbiblical assumption that the "soul is over the body, the eternal is over the temporal, and the clergy are over the laity."² If the two-story view of work is true, our goal in life should be to escape secular work and seek spiritual work — as soon as possible.

   This is just what happened in the early history of the church. As stratified theology of work created a spiritual case system with priests who ministered in the church being recognized as superior to the people who labored in the marketplace. While we may reject such a theology as unbiblical, the tension still remains between spiritual ministries and secular careers. When I was a boy, a missionary speaker made a lasting impression on me when he jabbed his index finger into my chest and uttered the command, "God is calling you to be a missionary. Anything else is second-best."

   Luther, in the theology of the Reformation, worked to repair the split-world theology of work. When he stood his ground at the Diet of Worms and declared, "Here I stand. I can do no other. So help me God!" Luther challenged the power of the priesthood and its stranglehold on spirituality. By this act, he also reconnected the world of work with the world of spirituality. In his classic writings on Christian vocation, Luther left no

Page 14

doubt that the "priesthood of believers" is one side of the Reformation coin, the other side is the "sacredness of all callings," including secular work.

   In the ensuing centuries, work has again become separated from spirituality, perhaps not in doctrine, but certainly in practice. The workplace is one of the most sensitive centers for changing values in our society. Beginning with the Enlightenment of the seventeenth century and advancing into the scientific movement of the nineteenth century, work has been increasingly identified as a rational and specialized process independent of spiritual meaning. Add to the march of history the Industrial Revolution in the nineteenth century, with the development of megascale corporations, and then step up the pace to the twentieth century. Specialization has taken over the workplace, leaving spirituality as an independent area of its own expertise.

   As if all of these forces which have driven a deep wedge between work and spirituality were not enough, we are now living with a full dose of self-interest in our attitude toward work. Little or no contradiction is seen between developing spiritual resources away from the job, but not on the job. Off the job, our spiritual goals may be self-denial, self-discipline, and self-sacrifice; but on the job, our personal goals are just the opposite — security, status, success, and most of all, self-satisfaction. A prominent chief executive of one of our most profitable international corporations spoke with brutal honesty when he said, "On Sunday, my priorities are God, family, and business. On Monday morning, they are all reversed."

   Little help has come from the church in developing a life-encompassing biblical theology of work. One reason for this failure is the speed of social change which keeps the workplace in constant flux. Within just a century, we have passed with dizzying speed from the Age of Agriculture, through the Age of

Page 15

Industry and into the Age of Information. Our doctrine of spiritual work, however, is stuck in the Age of Agriculture when the farmer labored close to nature, worked alone or with his extended family, and lived intimately with the product of his work from beginning to end. When we compare the farmer with the factory worker who deals with pre-made materials, and participates in just a small part of the total process, we can understand how our theology of work foundered in the factory. While the church was failing to develop a biblical view of work for the Age of Industry, labor unions stepped in with a philosophy of their own that leaned left and caused conservative Christians to flee back into the sanctuary of their split-world view. They were tempted more than ever to secularize their daily work and spiritualize their daily devotions.

   The Age of Information has further isolated the worker from nature, from other workers, and from the finished product. Computer systems have brought a radical shift of power from hand to brain, from physical energy to intellectual energy, and from the wealth of money to the wealth of information. A whole generation of workers is adversely affected. They either fall out of the system as the unemployed people of our times or stay in the system as the underemployed victims of the Age of Information. Repeated statistics bear out these sobering facts:

Eighty percent of all Americans hate to get out of bed and go to work on Monday morning.

A majority of all Americans wish that they could work at something else.

Twenty-five percent of all Americans suffer severe symptoms of job stress, such as absenteeism, substance abuse, divorce, physical illness, and poor quality of work.

Page 16

    Caught in the gears of the changing workplace, Christians too can be grounded up by the shifting system. On any given Sunday, there are worshipers in our churches who are unemployed, changing jobs, and living with stress from the workplace. Negative attitudes toward their work are affecting their physical and mental health, their self-esteem, and their family relations; they cannot help but also be adversely affected in their spiritual well-being. Yet, the spiritual meaning of work is addressed in few churches. For the most part, the person in the pew has to fashion a theology of work from one of two extremes: Work as a curse or work as a savior.

WORK AS A CURSE

Like an infected appendix which we don't need, a doctrine of the past which makes work a curse for our sin continues to afflict us. The idea comes from a wrongheaded interpretation of God's sentence upon Adam and Eve for their sin:

Cursed is the ground for your sake;

In toil you shall eat of it all the days of your life.

Both thorns and thistles it shall bring forth for you,

And you shall eat the herb of the field.

In the sweat of your face you shall eat bread

till you return to the ground.

For dust you are, and to dust you shall return

(Genesis 3:17b-19).

   A more exact translation of the first line of this passage is, "Condemned is the ground on your account." The earth itself is a reminder that all creation is affected by our sin. And make

Page 17

no mistake, the resistance of nature makes work hard. Our failure to come to grips with the reality of an earth that requires the hard work of both "tending and taming" as God commanded its first inhabitants, is not catching up with us. Breaking its precedent for naming a person as its "Man of the Year," Time magazine gave the award to Planet Earth in 1988 with a warning that our wondrous globe is due for disaster unless we abandon our reckless ways and do something about our overpopulation, pollution, waste of resources, and wanton destruction of natural habitats. The curse of sin is within us and all creation, including our work, can become its own victim.

   Still, we persist in treating work as though it were a curse in itself. In his classic book Working, Studs Terkel puts the sting of the curse on his subject, "This book, being about work, is by its very nature, about violence."³ Terkel came to this conclusion after interviewing hundreds of working Americans across the nation. Most felt as if their jobs symbolized a form of Monday through Friday dying.⁴ Behind their morbid descriptions lurks the notion that work is a curse with which we must live — a curse that beats us down, wears us out, robs us of our dignity, and serves us right. Terkel concluded that most of the people he met felt condemned to the curse of working on jobs that were "too small for their spirits."⁵ A brilliant friend of mine dropped out of college and spent thirty years working on a repetitious but skilled job only to be rendered obsolete by computer technology. After an insufferable period of unemployment, he took a job on a loading dock at less than half the wages of his former employment. Dropping his head in shame, he confessed to me, "I guess I don't deserve any better." He seems to see his daily work as a curse for his sin or a fitting punishment for his unworthiness.

   Whether or not we buy into the false theology of work as a curse, we still put it into practice in various ways. One way is to perpetuate the attitude that some callings are sacred and others are

Page 18

secular. How well I remember my first confrontation with this viewpoint. After graduation from Asbury Theological Seminary, I accepted the call to teach in a Christian college. Returning home, I was met on the front porch by a saintly sister in our home church, who wrapped me in her she-bear arms and wept, "Oh, oh, oh, I had prayed so hard that God would call you into ministry!" To her the call to preach not only stood above the call to teach — it also stood spiritually separate. At the time I answered nothing. Today I would be tempted to ask if she had ever put the question to her husband, a prominent and affluent CPA, "Why didn't God call you into ministry?"

   Another way in which we keep the doctrine of the curse alive is to create a spiritual hierarchy among our sacred callings. Nine months before my encounter on the front porch with the woman who had prayed for me, my denominational adviser at the seminary asked me to come into his office. He began by explaining, "To retain your scholarship at the seminary, you must declare that you will take a pastorate after graduation." To be honest, I had no answer, "God has called me into ministry, but whether it is preaching or teaching, I'm not sure." My answer cost me the scholarship. Twenty-nine years later, I returned to education. Now in moments of jest, I remind church leaders that they owe me a retroactive grant. This episode makes a strong point when I talk to students about the meaning of ministry. The error of separating the sacred from the secular in our work is compounded when we create within our sacred callings a hierarchy of ministries.

   Still another way in which we express an unbiblical view of work is to use our daily work as a secular means to a spiritual end. I recently reviewed a book that used the Apostle Paul's tent-making as the Christian's model for work. Claiming the authority of Scripture, the author said that all Christians must be tentmakers, using their secular employment as the means that

Page 19

frees them for spiritual ministry. Moreover, the author contended that conversion will cause many Christians to change jobs, as Paul did, so that they can go into evangelism. This author is wrong. Paul's tentmaking, according to his own words, served a special purpose for his apostleship (1 Thessalonians 2:9). True, his tentmaking gave him credibility in the secular city, but its major purpose was to free him to preach the whole Gospel. He feared that if he depended on someone else for support, he might ease up on the truth.

   This model is certainly applicable to our day when evangelists are living in luxury from the sacrificial gifts of believers, and when large donors may influence the direction of a ministry. But Paul makes no claim that we should all be tentmakers in order to preach the Gospel. To the contrary, we find a case in Paul's tentmaking for the spirituality of our daily work. According to Scripture, Paul pursued his craft months at a time, thereby opening himself to the charge of misplaced priorities in the light of the size of the need and the shortness of time that he had to preach the Gospel. His daily work of tentmaking, then, had to have meaning in itself.

   As for the idea of changing jobs when we are converted, Paul reaches quite a different verdict. Although we who live in a democracy are quick to criticize him, he tells those who are in slavery to be content with their position unless the opportunity for freedom comes to them (1 Corinthians 7:21-24). Rather than advocating that we change employment upon conversion, Paul puts higher value on being content and finding meaning in the job we have. To remain on the job after conversion may well give us the greatest test of faith and the greatest opportunity for witness.

   An auto dealer who sold Jaguars once told me, "Selling cars is my business; witnessing is my life." By this he meant that he worked to become independently wealthy so that he could be free for Christian evangelism. Certainly the motive sounds

Page 20

good and the goal seems worthy. To his credit, when he made a fortune, he remained true to his promise. Selling cars on a twenty-hour week, he spent the rest of his time traveling as a lay evangelist.

   Perhaps I am wrong, but I wonder if his view of secular work discourages those of us who will never be independently wealthy and will have to work a forty-hour week until the day we retire. Frankly, I also wonder about buying a car from him, now that he is free to spend one-half of his time in evangelism. Because my father worked as an automotive engineer in quality control, I grew up in the shadow of Detroit when it was the undisputed auto capital of the world. I expect quality in both sales and service for my cars. I don't want a car dealer looking over his shoulder at his sacred work when he sells me a car, or giving me less than his full attention when I bring it in for service. Someone once said, "When I need an operation, I want the best surgeon, Christian or not." Somehow I feel the same way about service on my automobile. I want an auto dealer whose secular work in sales and service is a spiritual ministry in itself. Otherwise, I am never sure when the inferior position of secular work might show up as inferior performance on my automobile. Wherever the two-story view of work shows itself, the shadow of the curse is seen.

   To view work as a curse, then, necessitates that we separate it from the totality of life. If work is violent, we must hate it; if sacred work is superior to secular work, we must seek the one and escape the other; if work is punishment for sin, we must pay the price. In each and every case, the hex remains.

WORK AS A SAVIOR

At the other extreme, work is viewed as a savior. In other words, work can become a god in itself. The other day I heard a Christian businesswoman say, "If someone wants to visit me, let

Page 21   

them come to my office. After all, it's my home." Whether she meant it or not, she conveyed the idea that her work had moved to the center of her life. Such a view of work may heal the breach between the sacred and the secular; but the danger is that work becomes so all-possessing that it also is a substitute savior. The even greater danger is that work which becomes a self-centered, self-contained, and self-glorifying end in itself, promising to be a savior, ends up as a demon.

   Marxism is built upon the premise that work is a savior — the highest good of human behavior. Without a belief in God, sin, or redemption, Marxists put the person in place of God, condemn sloth as a sin, and make work the way of redemption. Immediately, we see the difference between Capitalism and Communism. Capitalism elevates the accumulation of wealth as the highest economic good, while Communism raises the productivity of work to the highest social good. While neither philosophy is Christian, Capitalism does not rule out Christianity; Communism does. Even now the convulsions in the Communist world condemn a totalitarian system that puts productivity above people. The inherent human drive for freedom — political, economic, and religious — can be stifled only so long. To make work the savior of human dignity is a false premise which has now been exposed. Communism, not capitalism, is ready for burial.

   In the West, our danger is making work a savior in terms of radical self-interest. Along with our economic affluence, we have adopted the attitude of entitlement which says, "The world owes me a living." Observers sum up the decade of the '80s in one word, Greed. We expect our work to give us not just financial reward to guarantee our high standard of living, but also the satisfaction of self-fulfillment. In his book New Rules: Living in a World Turned Upside Down, Daniel Yankelovich puts it this way: "We expect more of everything."⁶ Studies of our contemporary attitude toward work confirm this.

Page 22

   In Habits of the Heart, Robert Bellah wrote that the prevailing attitudes among the younger generation are "expressive" and "utilitarian" self-interest.⁷ Expressive self-interest is the expectation that we can be what we want to be, utilitarian self-interest is the demand to do what we want to do. Our work, then, is judged by the standards of self-interest. It is not enough for our daily work to be the means for meeting our basic needs for food, clothing, and shelter, or even our added desires for security, status, and success. We expect our work to be self-actualizing and self-fulfilling. Not by accident, the terms self-actualization and self-fulfillment have become substitutes for redemption and salvation. In other words, the sometimes celebrated and often maligned Protestant work ethic of the past, which emphasized industry and prosperity, has given way to the demands for self-satisfaction and self-realization. Strange as it seems, a love-hate relationship exists within the working world today. At the same time that we condemn technical work as depersonalizing, we espouse ever higher expectations for our work. The workplace is regarded as a sanctuary in which work itself becomes a god, the worker a communicant, and work relationships the redemptive community.

   To view work as a savior, then is to create an idolatry which is abominable to God. If work is our highest good, we need no other treasure; if work is the means for our salvation, we need no other savior; if the workplace is our sanctuary, we need no other church. To avoid the idolatry of work, we must rediscover its biblical meaning.

WORK AS A MEANS OF GRACE

If work is neither curse nor savior, what is it? To reconnect our daily work with biblical spirituality, we must see work as a resource of creation waiting to be redeemed by those who believe. Once redeemed it becomes a means of grace. For a start, ask yourself these questions.

Page 23

Do you feel called of God to the work you do?

Do you believe that your daily work develops the special gifts that God has given you?

Do you feel as if your daily work is contributing to your spiritual growth?

Do you believe that your daily work is contributing to the moral good of your community? To the body of Christ? To the kingdom of God?

Do you see the results of your daily work as glorifying to God?

   I didn't know it was Katie kneeling in the flower bed next to where I parked my car. A red bandana covered her head, overalls enveloped her body, hiking boots encased her feet, and Green Thumb gloves protected her hands. As I opened the car door, I said, "Hello." Katie returned the greeting by surprising me with a smile I recognized.

   "Didn't you just graduate from the university? I asked.

   "Yes," Katie answered, "I majored in English literature and you gave me my degree."

   "Then what are you doing in the flower bed?" I blurted.

   Katie smiled again without embarrassment. "Waiting for a teaching job to open up."

   "Oh," I continued with my foot in my mouth. "You're in the ranks of the underemployed?"

   "No," Katie corrected me, "I'm learning landscaping while I wait. I love my work."

   How would Katie answer the questions about the spirituality of her daily work? She illustrates the Christian in vocation — responding to the call of God, discovering her special gifts, making her job big enough for her soul, relating her work to the meaning of life, and discovering joy in the process. What she discovered, we want to learn.

Page 24

SPIRITUAL REFLECTIONS

ON OUR DAILY WORK

The creation itself also will be delivered

from the bondage of corruption into the

glorious liberty of the children of God.

Romans 8:21

*           *           *           *           *           *           *

A PROVOCATIVE QUESTION

Do you hate to get up and go to work on Monday morning? Do you wish that you could work at something else? Do you suffer from the symptoms of job stress?

If you answered "Yes" to any of these questions, what is the effect upon your spiritual life? Do you pray about these problems? Have you sought spiritual counsel? Have you searched the Word of God with these questions in mind?

A PRACTICAL EXERCISE

What is the relationship between your faith and your daily work? Have you made work a curse or a savior? How can it become a means of grace?

A PERSONAL PRAYER

Lord, teach me the spiritual meaning of my daily work. If I have made it a curse or a savior, forgive me. From this day forward, may I begin to discover my daily work as a means of Your grace. Amen

Chapter Two  ||  Table of Contents

1. Georgia Harkness, The Dark Night of the Soul (New York, Abingdon-Cokesbury Press, 1945). Title taken from quotation of St. John of the Cross.

2. Doug Sherman and William Hendricks, Your Work Matters to God (Colorado Springs: NavPress, 1987).

3. Studs Terkel, Working (New York: Pantheon Books, 1972), xi.

4. Ibid, xi-xii.

5. Ibid, xxiv.

6. Daniel Yankelovich, New Rules: Living in a World Turned Upside Down (New York: Random House, 1981), 47.

Chapter Two  ||  Table of Contents