Every Good Endeavor: Connecting Your Work to God's Work

by Timothy J. Keller

In Matthew 6, verses 19 and 21 Jesus says, “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. . . . For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” What does he mean? Everyone has treasures—the things we cherish, delight in, and adore above all other things. We’ve also called them idols, and to understand them is to understand much of the hierarchy of your soul and the foundation of your personality. If we get our main meaning from peer approval, or money in the bank, or our reputation for success—then these things are our treasures. But Jesus rightly points out how radically insecure we are if we treasure such things. They can be whisked away or stolen. 203 And then our very lives can fall apart.

Christians should not be seen as sectarian. Many Christians fail to identify themselves as Christians to their colleagues. They simply blend in. Others let their faith be known but speak and act in a way that makes nonbelievers feel subtly (or overtly) marginalized or disdained. But if we have an integrated and non-dualistic understanding of work, we know that many people who are not believers are, through God’s providence and common grace, given the gifts to do excellent work. So we will respect and treat those who believe differently as valued equals in the workplace—and at the same time we will be unashamed to be identified with Jesus. If a Christian avoids both of these errors, he or she will be striking an unusual and healthy balance.

Theological and ethical reflection on our field of work is not easy. It is easier by far to focus on your own job and merely seek to work with personal integrity, skill, and a joyful heart. That is indeed a major part of what it means for a Christian to do faithful work, but that is not all it takes. Christians are to think persistently and deeply about the shape of work in their field and whether (in biblical terms) it accords as well as possible with human well-being and with justice. 206

Many people are trying to get a sense of self through productivity and success—but that burns them out. For others the motivation is to bring home a paycheck so they can enjoy “real life”—but that makes work into a pointless grind. These motivations are what we could call the “work beneath the work.” And they are what make work so physically and emotionally exhausting in the end.

Though Jesus’ twelve apostles left their nets after meeting him (Luke 5:11), we later see them continuing their trade of fishing. We see Paul continuing to work as a tent maker while he worked as an evangelist. These are not men who meet Christ and stop their “secular work” or who dial back their intensity and passion. Instead, what forever changed was the disciples’ relationship to their work. Jesus gave them the big picture; in fact, he was the big picture. He very deliberately called them to a kind of fishing beyond their fishing: “Don’t be afraid; from now on you will fish for people” (Luke 5:11). In other words, he was coming to redeem and heal the world, and he invited his disciples to be part of this project. Now they had an identity and significance untethered to their job or financial status. So they could walk away from it (if that was called for), or pick it up again, or approach it in a different way from before. They had a new freedom both from their work and in their work. Notice that when Jesus called them to follow him, it was at the moment of great financial success—the huge catch of fish. But they could, and they did, leave their nets behind. In Jesus’s presence, they were no longer controlled by their work.

This may all sound very idealistic to us. After all, the sea wasn’t going to run out of fish and there were no fisherman bosses who were going to block their reentry to the profession after their unpaid leave with Jesus. But the story forces us to ask important questions. Do we let our work control us to such a degree that we don’t even notice when God comes through with a new opportunity? Do we get our “big catch”—a year-end bonus or next new job—and immediately start focus...

One of the words we read and hear about often today is passion. Passion leads you to excel in whatever you do. But there are different sources and kinds of passion. Sometimes it generates frenetic activity more grounded in fear of failure than in pursuit of success. That kind of passion can produce a lot of energy, but from a Christian point of view it is a counterfeit. It is fueled by the work under the work. And it is unsustainable, like the extreme brightness of a dying lightbulb.

Acedia, she says, means a life driven by mere cost-benefit analysis of “what’s in it for me.” She writes, “Acedia is the sin which believes in nothing, cares for nothing, enjoys nothing, loves nothing, hates nothing, finds purpose in nothing, lives for nothing and only remains alive because there is nothing for which it will die. We have known it far too well for many years, the only thing perhaps we have not known about it is it is a mortal sin.” 208 Sayers goes on to say that a person characterized by acedia —in which their driving passion is for their own needs, comfort, and interests—does not necessarily look lazy at all. Indeed, this type of person seems to generate lots of activity. But, she argues, acedia, “the sin of the empty soul,” opens you to letting all the other sins be the motivations for your work.

I find this point hits home as a brilliant exposition of idolatry. Without something bigger than yourself to work for, then all of your work energy is actually fueled by one of the other six deadly sins. You may work exceptionally hard because of envy to get ahead of somebody, or because of pride to prove yourself, or because of greed or even gluttony for pleasure. In short, acedia is the most subtle idolatry of all. It puts the cynical self at the center of your life.

And so it was with Jesus and his passion. He set himself apart for the goal of our salvation. He lost everything, endured everything, to obtain it. Jesus Christ’s passion was for you and for his Father—not for himself. There is our model. When the extent and depth of Jesus’s passion for you fully dawns on your heart, it will generate passion for the work he has called you uniquely to do in the world. When you realize what he has done to rescue you, your pride and envy begin to disappear because you don’t need to get your self-worth from being richer, cooler, more powerful, or more comfortable.

But the relationship between work and rest operates at a deeper level as well. All of us are haunted by the work under the work—that need to prove and save ourselves, to gain a sense of worth and identity. But if we can experience gospel-rest in our hearts, if we can be free from the need to earn our salvation through our work, we will have a deep reservoir of refreshment that continually rejuvenates us, restores our perspective, and renews our passion.

To practice Sabbath is a disciplined and faithful way to remember that you are not the one who keeps the world running, who provides for your family, not even the one who keeps your work projects moving forward. Entrepreneurs find it especially difficult to believe this. They have high levels of competence and very few team members. If they don’t put in the hours, things don’t get done. How easy to fall prey to the temptation to believe that they alone are holding up their corner of creation! But by now you must see that God is there—you are not alone in your work. Jesus’ famous discourse against worry (Matthew 6:25–34) is set in the context of work. He chides us that the plants of the field are cared for, though “they do not labor or spin” (verse 28). He reminds us that we are obviously more valuable to God than plants—so we shouldn’t “run after” material things through our work (verse 32). So if you are worrying during your rest, you are not practicing Sabbath. It is a chance to meditate on passages like Matthew 6 until deep rest begins to penetrate you.

Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light (Matthew 11:28–30).

The yoke or harness put on a beast of burden was a symbol of slavery and grinding toil. How could this be a solution to the problem of deep weariness? Jesus says that it is his yoke and burden—and it is the only one that is light. Why? “For I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls” (verse 29). He is the only boss who will not drive you into the ground, the only audience that does not need your best performance in order to be satisfied with you. Why is this? Because his work for you is finished.

You will never make a good impression on other people until you stop thinking about what sort of impression you are making. Even in literature and art, no man who bothers about originality will ever be original: whereas if you simply try to tell the truth (without caring two pence how often it has been told before) you will, nine times out of ten, become original without ever having noticed it. . . . Give up yourself, and you will find your real self. 210

When your heart comes to hope in Christ and the future world he has guaranteed—when you are carrying his easy yoke—you finally have the power to work with a free heart. You can accept gladly whatever level of success and accomplishment God gives you in your vocation, because he has called you to it. You can work with passion and rest, knowing that ultimately the deepest desires of your heart—including your specific aspirations for your earthly work—will be fulfilled when you reach your true country, the new heavens and new earth. So in any time and place you can work with joy, satisfaction, and no regrets. You, too, can say, “ Nunc dimittis.”

When facing the trials of life in the big city and the demands of a high-pressure career it helps to remember God’s sovereignty so that, by definition, we can be sure we are where he wants us to be.

“There is not a square inch in the whole domain of our human existence over which Christ, who is Sovereign over all, does not cry: ‘Mine!’” 212 Our faith and work ministry has sought to explore the power and promise of the Christian story to change, redeem, and renew every aspect of our work lives, our work relationships, and the world we touch through the work we do.

We also are constantly faced with the excellence and the generosity and the love of the people around us who don’t know Christ. “How can it be that the person I work with acts like a better person than the Christians I know?” We get excited every time a famous football or basketball player is revealed to be a Christian, as though that somehow puts us in the excellence club in the eyes of the world. It’s challenging to seek to be distinctive in how we work through the power of the resources Jesus has given us and yet, at the same time, see hundreds of other people who don’t have those gospel resources outperform and out-distinguish us. Understanding common grace is key to our humility and appreciation of God’s sovereignty.

A survey of several hundred participants in the classes revealed that: • 6 percent had shared their faith in some way at work • 55 percent prayed about their work • 50 percent of all respondents responded affirmatively that they struggle to balance or integrate their desires with God’s desire for their lives • Very few recognized any way their work itself contributed to society.