In my last two posts I’ve taken issue with a theology of work predominant in Protestant circles (and arguably in Catholic circles, though that would entail a longer and more complicated treatment). Many preachers and teachers diminish or even ignore the product of our labor. The work becomes incidental to our sanctification and evangelism, with Reformed and Arminian sects stressing one or the other as might be expected.

And yet we know that God the Creator fashioned us in His image. Further, He gave the first man work, and not just for his sanctification, and certainly not for evangelism. The beginning of man’s history is a story of participation in God’s creative order. How then have we come to the place where we teach, in effect and sometimes even literally, that any old job will do?

I’ve found several thinkers helpful in the face of this puzzle. The first is Dorothy Sayers, who argued that we have to consider: “whether, by confining the average man and woman to uncreative activities and an uncreative outlook, we are not doing violence to the very structure of our being.” Given that we are fashioned in the image of God, in other words, we ought to consider whether that has relevance for the nature of the work we undertake. Perhaps one reason John Eldredge has sold so many books is because too many men are trapped in jobs that require no creativity, and which yield no meaningful value.

We can quibble, of course, over the phrase “meaningful value” (and in such an argument I would suggest we begin by scrutinizing “products” like high-fructose corn syrup, mindless video games, and more than a few contemporary Christian music albums). Yet many of us know people working in jobs that hold no meaning for them other than to pay the bills. In response to this malaise, a great many pastors say, in effect: Grin and bear it, and be sure to pass out some tracts while you’re there. Eldredge has been a huge hit in part because he tells men that it’s okay to feel like there has to be something more than this, and further, that “something more” isn’t just going to church and being a good boy.

Theologian N.T. Wright, meanwhile, writes in Surprised by Joy that Christians are called to participate in God’s creative and redemptive work. While many Christians — Protestants in particular — harbor a Gnostic view of creation, wherein physical things are suspect and of little value, Wright believes that the work we do for God here will have eternal consequences — in a very real physical sense:

“What you do in the present-by painting, preaching, singing, sewing, praying, teaching, building hospitals, digging wells, campaigning for justice, writing poems, caring for the needy, loving your neighbor as yourself-will last into God’s future.”

In this worldview, the content of one’s work is no longer negligible. Consider the accountant pushing paper in a bureaucratic corporation that only survives by dint of government subsidies and trade restrictions. Or the salesman hawking products that are overpriced and clearly inferior to their competitors. Or the HR functionary required to deliver training that he knows is ineffective and doesn’t address the real problems of his company. Our modern theology of work is incapable of speaking an important truth to us, which is that perhaps these are jobs that Christians should not hold. Perhaps we are called, with our hands and minds, to something higher than eeking out a living in purposeless drudgery. And falling back on the “All things work together for good” verse to justify our apathy is a cop-out.

The content of our work matters very much, but a great many pastors, when teaching about work, neglect this. The end result is that the average churchgoer is left with the impression that it is employment that matters (”if a man will not work, neither shall he eat”), and one’s behavior in the employment (”whatever you do, do your work heartily, as for the Lord”), but not so much the end product of what one does.

I’m not arguing that we should draw up a list — as the Puritans did — of approved and unapproved vocations. But we should listen more closely to the God-sent internal and external voices that call us toward (and away from) various forms of work. It was Frederick Buechner who wrote that your vocation is “where your deepest joy meets the world’s deepest need,” and I think we ought to maintain some of that reverence — and relevance — as we consider what work we will do with our hands and minds. Some work, in other words, matters more than other work, and we should stop pretending otherwise. And we should expect more from pastors who seem content to tell us to be content, as if the fruit of our labor has no bearing on the kingdom of God so long as we are evangelizing and obeying the rules. That view, in my opinion, diminishes man and God.

Click the following links to read Tony’s first two posts in this series:

“Theologies of work, Part I”

“Theologies of work, Part II”