Foreword
The gospel reshapes everything about how we approach our work. It assures you that God cares about everything you do. Your degree of success or failure is part of his good plan for you. The gospel also reminds you that God cares about the products you make, the companies you work for, and the customers you serve. Your work is a critical way in which God is caring for human beings and renewing his world.
This book captures foundational ways of thinking about God, about who we are in relation to the Trinity, and about how all of this affects the work we were created to do. The answers will all hang on this essential theology: the knowledge of who God is, his relation to humanity, his plan for the world, and how the good news of Christ turns our lives and our work upside down.
Introduction — The Importance of Recovering Vocation
A job is a vocation only if someone else calls you to do it and you do it for them rather than for yourself. Work can be a calling only if it is reimagined as a mission of service to something beyond merely your own interests. Thinking of work mainly as a means of self-fulfillment slowly crushes a person.
When we work, we are, as those in the Lutheran tradition often put it, the “fingers of God” — the agents of his providential love for others. This understanding elevates the purpose of work from making a living to loving your neighbor, and at the same time releases us from the crushing burden of working primarily to prove ourselves. In this Reformed view, the purpose of work is to create a culture that honors God and enables people to thrive.
There are many ways to serve God at work: to further social justice in the world; to be personally honest and share your faith with colleagues; to do skillful, excellent work; to create beauty; to work from a Christian motivation to glorify God; and to make as much money as you can so that you can be as generous as you can. Each of these is valid. But if you add the word “main” before any one of them, the views begin to contradict one another. The Bible’s vision of work is rich precisely because it holds all of them together.
If the God of the Bible exists, and there is a True Reality beneath and behind this one, and this life is not the only life, then every good endeavor, even the simplest ones, pursued in response to God’s calling, can matter forever. As Paul writes, “In the Lord, your labor is not in vain” (1 Corinthians 15:58).
Chapter 1 — The Design of Work
The Bible begins talking about work as soon as it begins talking about anything — that is how important and basic it is. The author of Genesis describes God’s creation of the world as work within a regular workweek of seven days. God worked for the sheer joy of it. He stood back, took in all that he had made, and said, in effect, “That’s good!” Work could not have a more exalted inauguration.
God not only works — he commissions workers to carry on his work. In Genesis 1:28, he tells human beings to “fill the earth and subdue it.” Though all God had made was good, it was still to a great degree undeveloped. God left creation with deep untapped potential for cultivation that people were to unlock through their labor. Work is a basic human need as fundamental as food, beauty, rest, friendship, prayer, and sexuality. Without meaningful work we sense significant inner loss and emptiness.
The commandments of God are, therefore, a means of liberation. Cars work well when you follow the owner’s manual. If you fail to change the oil, your car will simply break down because you violated its nature. Human life works properly only when conducted in line with the “owner’s manual” — the commandments of God. “Six days you shall labor and do all your work” (Exodus 20:9). This is not a burdensome command; it is an invitation to freedom. Yet there must be balance — work can become a crushing idol of achievement just as surely as it can be avoided altogether.
Chapter 2 — The Dignity of Work
We learn from Scripture not only that work has dignity in itself, but also that all kinds of work have dignity. God’s own work in Genesis 1 and 2 is “manual” labor — he shapes humanity out of the dust of the earth and plants a garden. There is no hierarchy here that elevates the intellectual over the physical, the white-collar over the blue-collar.
The point is reinforced by the incarnation. If God came into the world, what would he be like? For the ancient Greeks, he might have been a philosopher-king. But how does the God of the Hebrews enter the world? As a carpenter. We were built for work and the dignity it gives us, regardless of its status or pay.
Chapter 3 — Work as Cultivation
When Genesis speaks of human beings “filling the earth,” it means civilization, not just procreation. God does not want merely more individuals of the human species; he also wants the world to be filled with a human society. He made it our job to develop and build it.
And that is the pattern for all work. Work is creative and assertive — rearranging the raw material of God’s creation so that it helps the world, and people, thrive and flourish. Farming takes the physical material of soil and seed and produces food. Music takes the physics of sound and rearranges it into something beautiful that brings meaning to life. When we take simple materials and turn them into a poignant work of art, teach a naïve human mind a subject, or push a broom and clean up a room — we are continuing God’s work of forming, filling, and subduing. Whenever we bring order out of chaos, we are following God’s pattern of creative cultural development.
Chapter 4 — Work as Service
The apostle Paul extends the language of “calling” to common social and economic tasks — what we might call secular jobs — naming them God’s callings and assignments. Our daily work can be a calling only if it is reconceived as God’s assignment to serve others.
How does God give a city security? Through lawmakers, police officers, and those working in government. How does God “feed every living thing” today? Through the farmer, the baker, the retailer, the truck driver, and all who contribute to bringing food to people. God’s providential care reaches us through the labor of others — which is to say, through work.
The key question to hold before yourself is: “How, with my existing abilities and opportunities, can I be of greatest service to other people, knowing what I do of God’s will and of human need?” Since we already have in Christ the things other people work for — salvation, self-worth, a good conscience, and peace — we may now work simply to love God and our neighbors. The very first way to be sure you are serving God in your work is to be competent. Doing excellent work is an act of love, because it means you are taking your neighbor’s needs seriously.
Chapter 5 — Work Becomes Fruitless
Work is not itself a curse, but it now lies — with all other aspects of human life — under the curse of sin. “Thorns and thistles” will come up as we seek to grow food. When we remember that gardening is representative of all kinds of human labor, this is a statement that all work will be marked by frustration and a lack of fulfillment. “Part of the curse of work in a fallen world is its frequent fruitlessness.” Projects fail. Organizations decline. Careers stall. Best efforts don’t produce hoped-for results.
Yet even amid fruitlessness, there is a remarkable hope. J. R. R. Tolkien’s story “Leaf by Niggle” offers a vivid picture of that hope. Niggle imagined a beautiful tree that he was never able to fully produce in paint during his life. He died weeping that his great work was not completed. And yet, when he arrived in the heavenly country, there was the tree in all its glory. This was Tolkien’s way of saying that our deepest aspirations in work will come to complete fruition in God’s future. The fruitlessness is real, but it is not the last word.
Chapter 6 — Work Becomes Pointless
The book of Ecclesiastes presents a character called the Philosopher — the wisest, richest, most gifted person imaginable — who nonetheless cannot find lasting fulfillment in this life. His conclusion is devastating. Even if you are one of the few who accomplish all you hope for, it’s all for nothing: “I hated all the things I had toiled for under the sun, because I must leave them to the one who comes after me. And who knows whether that person will be wise or foolish?” (Ecclesiastes 2:18–19). In short, even if your work is not fruitless, it is ultimately pointless if life “under the sun” is all there is.
One common problem is that people do not choose work that fits their actual abilities and talents, but rather choose work that fits their limited imagination of how they can boost their self-image. Without an operative consensus on the dignity of all work, the range of career choices feels artificially narrow — only a few kinds of work seem worth doing: those that pay well, those that directly address society’s needs, and those that carry a certain cool factor.
Work can even isolate. Ecclesiastes describes a man who is alone — without son or brother, without friends or family — as a result of his labor. Work can convince you that you are working hard for your family and friends while ambition actually seduces you into neglecting them. “For whom am I toiling,” this man finally asks, “and why am I depriving myself of enjoyment?” The person whose soul rests wholly on the circumstances of their work will know grief and restlessness so profound that even at night their mind cannot rest.
What wisdom would the Bible give us in choosing our work? First, choose work that you can do well — work that fits your gifts and capacities. Second, because the main purpose of work is to serve the world, choose work that benefits others, asking whether your work or industry makes people better or appeals to the worst aspects of their characters. Ecclesiastes commends “one handful of quietness” — in contrast to two alternatives: the two handfuls of wealth that come from toil and chasing after the wind, or the empty handful that comes from idleness. Tranquility without toil will not bring satisfaction; neither will toil without tranquility.
Chapter 7 — Work Becomes Selfish
In Genesis 11, the builders of the Tower of Babel declare: “Come, let us build ourselves a city … so that we may make a name for ourselves.” When work becomes a way to distinguish yourself from your neighbor, to show the world you’re special, it becomes a way to accumulate power and security and exercise control over your destiny — rather than a way to serve others.
”To make a name” in the language of the Bible means to construct an identity for yourself. You either receive your name — your defining essence, security, worth, and uniqueness — from what God has done for you, or you make a name through what you can do for yourself. As C. S. Lewis observed in Mere Christianity: “Pride is essentially competitive — is competitive by its very nature. Pride gets no pleasure out of having something, only out of having more of it than the next man.” The two things we all want so desperately — glory and relationship — can coexist only with God.
An extended case study on self-interest, power, and vocation can be found in the Old Testament book of Esther. Esther, a beautiful young Jewish girl, hides her identity and is elevated to be queen in the royal palace. She rises to a place near the center of power through a series of moral compromises. So we are posed with a question: in such morally and spiritually ambiguous situations, does God still work with us and through us? The answer of the book is yes.
The book of Esther parallels the biblical accounts of Daniel and Joseph. All three were believers in the God of Israel, officials in pluralistic nonbelieving governments, none of them prophets or teachers. They had reached the highest circles of power in secular institutions. And God used them mightily. R. C. Lucas once pointed out that if you saw a biography titled “The Man God Uses,” you would assume it was about a missionary or church leader. Yet what you have in the story of Joseph is a highly successful secular official. “It is often hard to get Christians to see that God is willing not just to use men and women in ministry, but in law, in medicine, in business, in the arts.”
When Mordecai tells Esther that she was “brought to her royal position for such a time as this,” he uses a passive verb — she did not get to the palace by her own power. She did not earn her beauty, nor did she produce the opportunity. They were given to her. The same is true of you. You worked with talents you did not earn. You went through doors of opportunity you did not produce. Therefore, everything you have is a matter of grace, and so you have the freedom to serve the world through your influence, just as you can through your competence.
Consider what it means that Esther saved her people through identification and mediation. Her people were condemned, but she identified with them, came under that condemnation, and risked her life — “If I perish, I perish.” Because she identified, she could mediate before the throne of power as no one else could. Saving people through identification and mediation: does that remind you of anyone? Jesus Christ lived in the ultimate palace with ultimate beauty and glory, and he voluntarily left them behind. He identified with us, took on our condemnation, and the favor he had before the Father was transferred to his people.
Meditate on these things, and the truth will change your identity. It will convince you of your real, inestimable value. And ironically, when you see how much you are loved, your work will become far less selfish. The résumé, the influence, the benefits — they become just things. You can risk them, spend them, and even lose them. Esther is called Queen Esther fourteen times; thirteen of those occur after she says, “If I perish, I perish.” She becomes great not by trying to make a name for herself — and you will become a person of greatness not by trying to make yourself into one, but by serving the One who said to his Father, “Thy will be done.”
Chapter 8 — Work Reveals Our Idols
Idolatry means imagining and trusting anything to deliver the control, security, significance, satisfaction, and beauty that only the real God can give. It means turning a good thing into an ultimate thing. This is why Luther argued that the Ten Commandments begin with a prohibition of idolatry: because we never break the other commandments without first breaking the first.
Personal idols profoundly drive and shape our work behavior. Idols of comfort and pleasure can make it impossible to work as hard as a fruitful career requires. Idols of power and approval lead to overwork or to ruthless, unbalanced work practices. Idols of control take forms including intense worry, lack of trust, and micromanagement. While we are usually blind to our own idols, it is not hard to see them in others — and to see how they fill people with anxiety, anger, and discouragement.
In the modern worldview, work became the defining activity of humanity — “an arena for self-realization, a means not only of educating oneself but also of fulfillment.” But nothing will be put perfectly right until the “day of Christ” at the end of history. Until then, all creation “groans” and is subject to decay and weakness. The gospel does give real resources for working differently — and those resources are what the book’s third section explores.
Chapter 9 — A New Story for Work
People cannot make sense of anything without attaching it to a story line. And if you get the story of the world wrong — if, for example, you see life as mainly about self-actualization rather than the love of God — you will get your life responses wrong, including the way you go about your work. A worldview is not merely a set of philosophical bullet points. It is essentially a master narrative — a fundamental story about what human life in the world should be like, what has knocked it off balance, and what can be done to make it right.
The gospel teaches that the meaning of life is to love God and love our neighbor, and that the operating principle is servanthood. The Christian worker who knows “You are not your own; you were bought at a price” (1 Corinthians 6:19–20) is free to honor God, love neighbors, and serve the common good through work. Think of the gospel not as something to “look at” in your work — meaning Christians should only do explicitly Christian things — but as a set of glasses through which you “look” at everything else. A Christian writer can constantly be showing the destructiveness of making something besides God into the central thing — even without mentioning God directly.
Chapter 10 — A New Conception of Work
God’s loving care comes to us largely through the labor of others. Work is a major instrument of God’s providence; it is how he sustains the human world. A farmer meets her neighbor’s need for food; a mechanic meets his neighbor’s need for technical help. This is the reason that much work Christians do is not, in its visible form, any different from the work non-Christians do. It is not easy to identify the uniquely Christian way to fill a cavity.
Instead, Christians should place a high value on all human work — especially excellent work — done by all people, as a channel of God’s love for his world. James 1:17 says that “every good and perfect gift is from above … from the Father of the heavenly lights.” This means that every act of goodness, wisdom, justice, and beauty — no matter who does it — is being enabled by God. The composer Leonard Bernstein held secular, naturalistic beliefs. But he famously said, “Listening to Beethoven’s Fifth, you get the feeling there’s something right with the world.” Music was the voice of God speaking through Bernstein even as he denied that God existed.
Chapter 11 — A New Compass for Work
Christians can take a stand against unethical behavior, even if it means great sacrifice on their part. The story line of the Christian faith gives believers an ethical bedrock — a far firmer foundation for acting with integrity than the pragmatic approach of a cost-benefit analysis. Bible scholar Bruce Waltke points out that the very definition of righteous people is that they disadvantage themselves to advantage others, while “the wicked … are willing to disadvantage the community to advantage themselves.”
Christians understand that we were made by and for eternal love, which is the primary meaning of life. Are relationships a means to accrue power and wealth? Or is wealth creation a means to serve the end goal of loving others? While economically speaking some people may be more valuable than others, theologically speaking all of us are made in the image of God and are therefore equal in importance.
According to the Bible, wisdom is more than obeying God’s ethical norms; it is knowing the right thing to do in the eighty percent of life’s situations where the moral rules don’t provide a clear answer. How do we become wise? First, we must not merely believe in God but know him personally. When God’s gracious love becomes a living reality, our heart is less controlled by anxiety and pride. Second, we must know ourselves. The gospel keeps us from over- or underestimating our own abilities, because it shows us both our sin and God’s love for us in Christ. Third, we learn wisdom through experience — if we know God and self, then time deepens our understanding of human nature and of how relationships work.
In Ephesians 6, Paul addresses both workers and employers with instructions that remain urgent today. Workers are told to be wholehearted — not doing only the minimum to avoid penalty, not working hard only when being watched, but giving their minds, hearts, and bodies fully to the best job possible. They are to work with “sincerity of heart,” which connotes both focus and integrity. Employers are reminded that they are slaves too — slaves of Christ. Christians should have a reputation for being fair, caring, and committed to others, marked by sympathy and an unusual willingness to forgive and reconcile.
Christians should also be known for calm and poise in the face of difficulty or failure. Jesus says, “Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” If you get your main meaning from peer approval, or money in the bank, or your reputation for success — then these things are your treasures. But they can be whisked away or stolen. When meaning in life and identity are at stake, we panic, sometimes lying or betraying others to save ourselves, or simply plunging into despair. The gospel offers a different treasure, one that cannot be taken away.
Chapter 12 — New Power for Work
For many people, being productive becomes an attempt at redemption. Through their work, they try to build their worth, security, and meaning — but that burns them out. What Jesus did when he called his first disciples is instructive. He did not change their profession. What changed forever was their relationship to their work. He called them to a kind of fishing beyond their fishing: “Don’t be afraid; from now on you will fish for people” (Luke 5:10). He was coming to redeem and heal the world, and he invited them to be part of this project. This is how the gospel changes your work — not always by redirecting your career, but by transforming why and how you work.
Without something bigger than yourself to work for, all your work energy is actually fueled by one of the deadly sins: you may work hard because of envy to get ahead of somebody, or because of pride to prove yourself, or because of greed. A main plot device of Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings is the corrupting effect of the Ring of Power. When you put on the Ring, it magnifies your own will to power, and turns you evil. That is what self-centered work does to a person.
Since God rested after his creation, we must also rest after ours. This rhythm of work and rest is not only for believers; it is for everyone, as part of our created nature. Overwork or underwork violates that nature and leads to breakdown. Sabbath is therefore a declaration of freedom. It means you are not a slave to your culture’s expectations, your family’s hopes, your employer’s demands, or even your own insecurities. To practice Sabbath is a disciplined and faithful way to remember that you are not the one who keeps the world running.
Romans 12:1 says, “I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as living sacrifice.” The term “living sacrifice” is deliberately paradoxical — sacrifices were dead. To say to God’s people “I want you to be a living slain thing” is a way of saying you have to continually be in the rhythm of dying to your own interest and living for God. That is the passion God asks of you.
God also strengthens us through the fellowship of Christian community. Paul calls believers to “carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ” (Galatians 6:2). It is normally through the sympathy and encouragement of Christian friends that we experience God refreshing us and supporting us in our work.
In the Christian view, the way to find your calling is to look at the way you were created. Your gifts have not emerged by accident; the Creator gave them to you. And it is liberating to accept that God is fully aware of where you are at any moment. By serving the work you have been given, you are serving him.
Epilogue — Leading People to Integrate Faith and Work
The book closes with a summary of the shifts the gospel invites us to make: from individual salvation to the recognition that the gospel changes everything — hearts, community, and world. From cheap grace to costly grace genuinely aware of our sin. From serving the idols of this world to living for God. From disdain of this world to being engaged in it. From thinking only people matter to recognizing that institutions matter too. From Christian superiority to the recognition that God can work through whomever he wants — through common grace.
The prayer behind this book is not that you will adopt ten key rules — but that in wrestling with who God is and how to relate to him, you would grow in humility, love, truth, grace, and justice, and that your neighbors would flourish because you were there.