“God’s Calling and Our Daily Work”
May 29, 2006
John H. Armstrong
Before the Protestant Reformation, Christian vocation, in everyday contexts, was understood and experienced in one of two ways. Each person was assigned to a particular station in life. It was commonly argued on the basis of Scripture (1 Corinthians 7:20) and tradition. This was why a person was assigned to the task of being a feudal lord or serf. The other way to experience one’s calling in life was to be called directly by God to a religious order, either priestly or monastic. It was commonly assumed that this calling put the person on a path that led to a closer relationship with God. The medieval church made so much of this religious calling that it became a “higher” vocation.
Martin Luther’s teaching on the Christian life seriously modified this medieval idea of vocation. Luther redefined Christian vocation, correctly I believe, as a call to all Christians to serve both God and neighbor in this world, rather than simply a call to escape the world. In a sermon in 1522 Luther used the German word beruf (vocation), for the first time, to describe a wide range of callings.
Historian Eric Gritsch observes of Luther’s reforms:
Luther concluded that vocations are not good works to appease God but rather witness to faith in Christ. As he put it in the Small Catechism of 1529, “The Holy Spirit has called me through the gospel.” All earthly work is grounded in the gospel’s promise that sins are forgiven. In this sense, then, vocations foreshadow God’s full reconciliation with his fallen world. That reconciliation will usher in God’s eternal rule in Christ. In the meantime, vocations avoid chaos between Christ’s first and second coming, and exercise love of neighbor by representing Christ to someone in need of help (The Oxford Encyclopedia of the Reformation, New York: Oxford University Press, 1996, 4:25).
Luther’s view opened the door for real change, but it did not go far enough. Whereas Luther argued that vocation was “a station in life,” Calvin developed this thinking further and concluded that “one can change the world through vocations” (Gritsch, 245). For Luther the law showed what we could not do but for Calvin it did more, showing us what we should do and could do, by the power of the Spirit. Calvin further connected vocation to the doctrine of predestination, arguing that one proved their calling and election by the “posterior signs” of a divine call which were linked to one’s specific calling, or vocation, in this life. Simply put, the whole Christian life should be lived for the glory of God thus the believer who lives under God’s grace, in his or her vocation, “confirmed their calling and election” (2 Peter 1:10). This background is the context for the oft-debated “Protestant work ethic.”
But Luther and Calvin would not recognize the modern evangelical view of Christian ministry and secular vocation, which has so powerfully influenced evangelical Christians in America for several generations. We are counseled to work so we can pay our bills and support our families. But we retain very little of the idea of divine calling in our day-to-day work.
A Hasidic folktale underscores this for me. In the city of Ropschitz the rich people lived in houses along on the outskirts of town, much like the rich in modern cities and suburbs. They decided to hire guards to protect their property at night. In other words, they built the equivalent of our modern “gated communities.” The story is told that one evening Rabbi Naftali met one of these nighttime guards and inquired: “Who do you work for?” The guard answered but then countered with the question, “And who do you work for, Rabbi?” The Rabbi was stunned. “I don’t work for anyone yet,” he answered. He walked by the guard in virtual silence. Finally the rabbi asked: “Do you want to be my servant?” The guard responded, “I’d be glad to, but what do I have to do?” The rabbi answered, “Nothing, except to remind me of the question, ‘Who do you work for?’”
The point of this Hasidic tale is lost on most modern Christians. They simply don’t know who they work for. As a result of this failure to understand our purpose we live our daily lives without meaning. We do not know why we work, struggle with the effects of the fall, or serve our neighbors. Because we have no one to work for, in terms of God’s calling, we find little meaning in what we do. In the words of Rudolph Stertenbrink: “We don’t grow out beyond ourselves. We remain stuck, we spin around ourselves, we make no progress. A meaninglessness spreads through us” (Wisdom of the Little Flower, New York: Crossroad, 2002, 97).
While Catholics have profited from the Reformed emphasis in the West evangelicals often seem to have forgotten it. Since the nineteenth century, and especially since Vatican II, Catholic teaching has increasingly emphasized the role of the laity in service to neighbor. Modern evangelicals seem to have amnesia regarding their heritage, stressing a kind of schizophrenic separation between church and daily life. (The one exception to this is the continual stress we place upon trying to bring our peers to a decision for Christ and into our churches.) We have made pastors into CEOs and the people into workers for the corporate church. Life has little or no purpose in the day-to-day world except that it can provide the money we need to support the pastor’s vision and the busy churches that we build.
Work is too often understood only as punishment because of the fall (Genesis 3:17-19) but the historic tradition of the church has consistently rejected this false idea. Human life is enriched and promoted through work well done. Work is not only duty but a means whereby we glorify God. Work is something we do, such as building, farming or teaching. Career refers to the course of life, or sphere of work that a person does. A homemaker, for example, has a career in this sense as much as a CEO. The historic Christian idea of calling underscores the actual state of being divinely called. God gives each of us a summons to do a specific work, which is to be determined by faith and the leading of the Spirit. For way too long we have limited this idea only to those who are called to serve the church. In the New Testament it is apparent that God calls everyone to live the life of faith (Romans 8:28; 1 Corinthians 1:26; 1 Peter 2:21). Our baptism constitutes our call, in terms of Christian confession, and the Holy Spirit makes this evident to all who seek first the kingdom of God.
Each person who reads these words has a responsibility and an opportunity. Your responsibility is clearly to God alone. You will give an account for the use of the gifts and resources he has given to you. You also have an opportunity. You can make a real contribution to this world and the kingdom of God. You can respond to the call of God by means of your work and your career. What will you do? The answer depends, to a large extent, on the very question the guard asked the rabbi: “And who do you work for?”
