Knothole

 

Hey, Cobblestone,

     Good ol’ Jeremiah Burroughs – remember him? Of course not. He lived some 400 years ago. Didn’t leave any universities bearing his name. Just a circuit preacher who wrote a few books, got himself in trouble with the establishment once in a while. Fell off his horse one day. Died of complications from his injuries, forty-some years old.

     It’s not exactly the story you would write for yourself, is it? And yet, among the books he left behind is one titled The Rare Jewel of Christian Contentment. Pretty ambitious, huh? Wishful thinking? Having read the book, I don’t think so. Contentment is a jewel, and rare indeed, but Burroughs makes a compelling case for pursuing it. The standout line: “A heavenly conversation is the way to contentment.”

     Burroughs was convinced that Christians don’t talk about/think about heaven enough. Little brothers and sisters of Jesus could encourage one another to a much greater degree if we would remind each other of where we’re headed.

    Long after Burroughs, in the Nineteenth Century, the game of baseball was invented. Long before the Nineteenth Century had passed into the history books, the game of baseball had been monetized, beginning with our hometown team, the Cincinnati Red Stockings. Fences went up. No good selling tickets if there are no fences. But not all could afford tickets, so some, mostly kids, would find knotholes in the fence and watch the game, one eye at a time. Not content to simply watch, the kids would find an empty sandlot and imitate what they had seen. Knothole League Baseball was born.

     At the moment, there’s a fence between mortal Christians and heaven, a shabby construct of sin and separation. On the other side, we hear of the cheering and glory, of saints and elders and angels caught up in praise. On the other side, nothing subtracts from perfect contentment. From the other side – we take it on faith – our King will come in power, and it’ll be Game Over for any who oppose him. The other side. Then. Not now.

     But when the Father and Son collaborated to give the Holy Spirit in mass quantity, the knots fell out. From Pentecost onward there have been innumerable knotholes, through which heaven has been… if not visible, at the very least perceivable. Not a front row seat by any means, but the best view available in this age. This side. Now. Not then.

     Step up to the knothole, will ya? You gotta see this! And then, how ‘bout a pickup game?

 …when one turns to the Lord, the veil is removed. Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. And we all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another. For this comes from the Lord who is the Spirit (2Corinthians 3:16-18).

     When Burroughs wrote “a heavenly conversation is the way to contentment,” maybe he could just as well have said “toward” contentment. I don’t think he meant to put forth the notion that perfect contentment is attainable on this side of the fence. But I do think he would agree that the fence wasn’t meant to stand forever. The first of its failings, the portent of its falling, is already plainly visible.

 Grace and Peace (sufficient for where we are),

 John

Do-Gooders, Part 4: Animated by the Holy Spirit

 

Hey, Cobblestone,

     In our last letter, I left you in suspense – not a cliffhanger exactly, but an unfinished train of thought. I had said that, in doing good works, there is an essential element, the Go/or/No-Go of every good work. Are you ready for the reveal?

    On the last day of the feast, the great day, Jesus stood up and cried out, “If anyone thirsts, let him come to me and drink. Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, ‘Out of his heart will flow rivers of living water.’” Now this he said about the Spirit, whom those who believed in him were to receive, for as yet the Spirit had not been given, because Jesus was not yet glorified (John 7:37-39).

     How many good reasons are there for doing good? Hard to say, but we know there are many. How many bad reasons are there for doing good? Again, hard to say, but experience tells me that there are about as many bad reasons as good ones. We could begin to sort through them, checking our motives, comparing our works with others. We could try to gauge the effectiveness of our efforts. Here’s a better method: to be animated by God the Holy Spirit. That’s what Jesus was getting at. These are the rivers of living waters he spoke of.

     Every Christian has the Holy Spirit living within – some way, somewhere, somehow. Just a nibble of Scripture evidence comes from 1Corinthians 12:13…

    For in one Spirit we were all baptized into one body—Jews or Greeks, slaves or free—and all were made to drink of one Spirit.

    From the same chapter comes the clearly defined reason for every spiritual gift…

To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good (verse 7).

     Hey, Christian, the indwelling Holy Spirit is the life in Christ in you…  the mystery hidden for ages and generations but now revealed to his saints. To them God chose to make known how great among the Gentiles are the riches of the glory of this mystery, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory (Colossians 1:26-27). To be animated by the Holy Spirit is to act on the life of Christ in you.

     Not to say that non-Christians can’t do good; indeed, it happens every day. But I see a lot of frustration, especially in the public sector: there’s never enough money/time/people/programs to meet the needs. And among Christians who are not animated by the Holy Spirit as much as they could be, I see the same frustration for all the same reasons. The difference, of course, is that Christians have the ability to act on the life of Christ within them.

     I used to think Christians had to be poked and prodded into doing good works. After much poking/prodding, I see more clearly now: make a few opportunities (and eliminate a few distractions), and the regenerated souls of my brothers and sisters will rise to the occasion. It might not be in coordinated, quantifiable ways, but it’ll happen. Probably the best strategy for me, at this stage-and-age of life, is to recommend reliance and trust in those rivers of living waters. Consulting with Holy Spirit will sort the motives for us, and will lead us to the one mission-critical question in the consideration of any potential good work:

     Is there a future in it?

     Do not be deceived: God is not mocked, for whatever one sows, that will he also reap. For the one who sows to his own flesh will from the flesh reap corruption, but the one who sows to the Spirit will from the Spirit reap eternal life. And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up (Galatians 6:7-9).

     One phrase from that passage gets more air time than most of the others: let us not grow weary of doing good. I can tell you for a fact: doing good, without considering whether there’s a future in it, is wearying. It will leave the do-gooder, even the Christian do-gooder, bone tired and gut-level frustrated. (But) the one who sows to the Spirit will from the Spirit reap eternal life.

     I won’t claim to have sorted out all the future-less works from the future-full. I’ve gone into some good works believing there was a future in it, only to find out, um, not so much. Conversely, I’ve been surprised at the far-reaching effects of others. I’m counting on getting a thorough debrief in heaven. Meanwhile, here’s what I, and every Christian, can do: a quiet, reasoned conversation with God the Holy Spirit – the life of Christ in us, the hotline to the one who sits at the right hand of the throne of God – will lead us to the one essential question, which is, again, “Is there a future in this good work I’m considering?” If that question is too daunting, I can recommend a few others that lend evidence:

·         Will God be glorified?

·         Is human dignity being built up?

·         Is the person I serve being invited into the life of Christ?

·         Will the person being helped, in turn, be put in a position to help others?

     In the mind of God, there is a To-Do list for each of his children – For we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do (Ephesians 2:10). We may safely assume that every item on the list is good and worthwhile. The happy news is that, through the counsel of the Holy Spirit, we can begin to understand what’s on the list… and what’s not.

     Let’s wrap up the Do-Gooders series of letters with a prayer:

“Lord, increase our faith. We want to trust, more, in the leading of your Holy Spirit. We want to do good and not grow weary. Bring glory to yourself and blessing to others. May your kingdom come, in Jesus’ name. Amen.”

  Grace and Peace (and plenty to share),

 John

 

Do-Gooders, Part 3: Command and Encourage

 

Hey, Cobblestone,

     The Christian church is being remade. At this moment, there is a reshaping of Christian life and service that closely resembles the original shaping of the First Century church. Lately, I’ve been privileged to gain a fresh perspective on the church’s role in the world – in particular, along the lines of social justice – and I’m eager to share it with you in this third installment of the “Do-Gooders” series of letters titled “Command and Encourage.”

     A few of you know that, in addition to being a pastor at Cobblestone, I’m also an elected official in a local government body. If you didn’t know, my feelings are not hurt. It’s very, very local. Low-key, as we say. But local as the position is, it has given me a lens to see the similarities and differences in church and government when it comes to supporting people who can’t quite support themselves. As a starting point, I’ll use a short quote from Jesus to begin laying out what’s the same and what’s not.

     “For you always have the poor with you, and whenever you want, you can do good for them.” (Mark 14:7). There are basically two ways to act on this statement, and the church and government have each had both.  

     The earliest church took Jesus’ words to mean that all the poor were to be served all the time, no matter how many or how great the need. Not a bad interpretation, but also not a workable one. In Jerusalem, the home of the very first Christian church, the Apostles soon found themselves overrun by the needs. They made some adjustments. Christians sold their possessions and gave to the needy. But it still wasn’t enough, especially once the Judean famine took hold in the fourth decade of the First Century.

     Government has had a similar experience. In the fourth decade of the Twentieth Century, it decided to eliminate the possibility of any citizens being totally destitute, through a project called The New Deal. For a while the math worked. And then it didn’t. Particular needs gave rise to particular agencies. More needs, more agencies. Supported populations grew in relation to working populations. By default, the only foreseeable plan is to carry the project as public debt.

     As with most worthwhile undertakings based on pure motives, if it doesn’t work, the human reaction is to make a hard turn, driven by frustration, and slam into the opposite extreme. Meeting all the needs is seen as equivalent to holding the ocean back with a broom, so why even try? In the early church, Christians – now scattered throughout the known world after persecution broke out in Jerusalem – had developed a pattern of hoarding wealth. In James’ letter, which was probably the earliest to go out to the twelve tribes in the Dispersion (1:1), he sternly addressed and denounced the economic, social, and even spiritual barriers set up by the rich against the poor. In the eleventh chapter of First Corinthians, Paul blasted the idle rich for showing up early at the love feasts to drink too much wine and eat the best food. In government, officeholders are often elected on promises to slash entitlement programs. Efforts that would leave legitimately disadvantaged humans out in the cold are met with vocal approval by some members of the public, and the tacit approval of others.

     So where do we stand now, the church and government? In the same place, basically, torn between the two extremes. Among Christians and within government, it’s a tug-of-war with contenders of equal strength at the far ends of a very long rope. There’s some see-ing and some saw-ing, but no real progress.

     Unlike government, the church should know better. And we have. And then we forgot. The purpose of this letter, from this word forward (and likely into the next edition), is to recall the First Century mandate and regain the mission as Jesus intended it.

     Work is a basic human dignity, a basic pride in being made in God’s image, a basic trust that we are co-creators with him. Serving the needy – “do(ing) good for them,” as Jesus said – has to involve meeting the need for dignity. Without that, all the programs and agencies and food banks in the world will eventually fail. Unless the building up of human dignity is the basis for every relief effort, all the work of every Do-Gooder – Christian-faith-based or otherwise – will come to frustration. And the needy, rather than being helped, will ultimately be harmed.

     One of the Apostles, namely Paul, traveled a lot more than the others. He sought out the scattered Christians and helped them establish cohesive assemblies: churches. In at least three major cities – Ephesus, Corinth, and Thessalonica – he encountered believers who were taking advantage of the generosity of their brothers and sisters in Christ. The situation was unsustainable. It would take the full body of believers to build up those whose dignity was being degraded. Here is some of what he wrote to the Thessalonians:

    ⁶ Now we command you, brothers, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that you keep away from any brother who is walking in idleness and not in accord with the tradition that you received from us. ⁷ For you yourselves know how you ought to imitate us, because we were not idle when we were with you, ⁸ nor did we eat anyone's bread without paying for it, but with toil and labor we worked night and day, that we might not be a burden to any of you. ⁹ It was not because we do not have that right, but to give you in ourselves an example to imitate. ¹⁰ For even when we were with you, we would give you this command: If anyone is not willing to work, let him not eat. ¹¹ For we hear that some among you walk in idleness, not busy at work, but busybodies. ¹² Now such persons we command and encourage in the Lord Jesus Christ to do their work quietly and to earn their own living (2Thessalonians 3:6-12).

     Was Paul just being hard-nosed? Was he simply miffed because he had to work while others weren’t? I don’t think so, and the evidence is in the fact that he not only commanded (verses 6, 10, 12), but also encouraged (verse 12). Encouragement is for the betterment the one receiving it. The best evidence of all is found in two phrases that bracket the paragraph: in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ (verse 6) and encourage in the Lord Jesus Christ (verse 12). Jesus, the Redeemer of mankind, has his arms around the idea of restoring human dignity.

     Government policies do a poor job of distinguishing between those who can’t support themselves and those who choose not to. I’ve seen enough policies (and been part of developing a few) to know how ineffective they are. To be fair, I’ve worked with some wonderful people who have the kindest of hearts and want nothing but good to come from our efforts. But in the big picture, the one essential element is missing. That element – the Go/or/No-Go of every good work – is the topic of the next letter in this series.

 Keep the faith.

 Grace and Peace (in every good work),

 John       

 

Do-Gooders, Part 2: All Things

 

Hey, Cobblestone,

     Let me introduce you to the scariest verse in the Bible:

I have become all things to all people, that by all means I might save some (1Corinthians 9:22).

     The narrator in this verse is the apostle Paul, the mighty man of God. He’s the “I” who became all things to all people. Wow. That puts me on the level of… let’s see… chopped liver. Maybe lower. I have a hard enough time being anything to anybody, let alone all things to all.

     It’s a tough verse, and I’ve wrestled with it for many years. How could one person become all things? Like the Salvation Army’s current slogan – “Doing the Most Good” – it makes me think the good I do doesn’t count. But like Jacob, wrestling with God at Peniel, I’m ready to end the match and receive the blessing.

     The scariest verse in the Bible has a drain plug, and if we pull it, all the scary runs out. Here goes: Not even Paul had become all things to all people at the same time. At times he was among Jews; at times he was among the weak; at other times he was among those who were outside the law. The key to moving easily among the various groups is found in verse 19: For though I am free from all, I have made myself a servant to all… Bottom line: Paul was attentive to whoever he was with – at a given time.

     Ephesians 2:10 says, For we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do. In the mind of the Father, there exists a good-works list for each of his kids. And each kid’s list is perfectly scaled. The Father knows who you are.

     For our part, I believe the best we can do is to be…

            …available…

                        …and attentive.

 

    Just like Paul. Or George. Or Suzie, or any other Christian. To ask more questions. Do more listening. Be willing to connect need with supply. Nobody has to scratch and claw or suffer angst to gain superstar status. Rather, superstar status is conferred in the simple blessing of the Master: ‘Well done, good and faithful servant. You have been faithful over a little; I will set you over much. Enter into the joy of your master’ (Matthew 25:21).

     Whew, what a relief! Do you feel it? I hope so. You don’t have to prove that you’re doing More Good, or the Most Good, or the Most-est Good. Only be faithful over a little.

     Of the many conversations I hope to have in eternity with my brothers and sisters, some of them will be with Paul. I want to ask him what it was like when God inspired him to write – and live out – the scariest verse in the Bible. I expect he’ll let loose a quick chuckle, and say something like, “It turned out to be way simpler to pull off than I thought it would be. How was it for you?”

     “Yeah, pretty much like that.”

  

Grace and Peace (in the simplest of terms),

 

John

Do-Gooders, Part 1: Quitters' Day

 

Hey, Cobblestone,

     The New Year’s resolutions kicked in two days early at Planet Fitness in Hamilton. With January First falling on a Wednesday, it seems many folks had the first half of the week off from work. In any case, on Monday the Thirtieth, the place was humming. The same phenomenon, we can reasonably assume, was in play at other fitness centers: people getting a running start on resolutions to be more fit in the new year.

     The same day, I learned a new term. In a TV commercial for Apple Watch products, the second Friday in January was designated “Quitters’ Day.” The idea, apparently, is that people will go guns-a-blazin’ into the new year – for about two weeks. And then the second weekend happens, and there’s post-season football, and sales of Doritos and queso dip go through the roof. By Monday, well intentioned fitness fiends realize they dropped the habit three days ago – on Quitters’ Day – and now it’s too late to restart. “Oh well, there’s always next year,” is the last sigh of resignation.

     Checking the 2025 calendar, we see that Quitters’ Day falls on… holy smokes, that’s today!

     Stick with me, dear Church, this is not a guilt-laden letter I’m writing to you. I won’t be insisting that you huff-and-puff up the next hill, chanting, “I think I can, I think I can…” What the Father has in mind for us, best I can tell, is to understand his instructions to do good for one another – those interlocking, community-building deeds of support and encouragement found in Scripture, especially the New Testament letters from the Apostles to the churches. Understand them, that is, not be flattened by them.

     There is no Quitters’ Day on God’s calendar. Instead, he links promises to mandates, promises made in perfect love and unmitigated power. Over the next few letters, I’m going to highlight the promises. The mandates are easy enough to see on their own. And I know me; and I know you pretty well, too, Church: I know our propensity to get the mandate, print it on a coffee mug, and take off under a head of our own steam. Be advised: Quitters’ Day looms in a future that doesn’t take the promises into account.

     Last week I shared the following prayer/blessing with some friends:

To this end we always pray for you, that our God may make you worthy of his calling and may fulfill every resolve for good and every work of faith by his power, so that the name of our Lord Jesus may be glorified in you, and you in him, according to the grace of our God and the Lord Jesus Christ (2Thessalonians 1:11-12).   

     Where, like Waldo, is the promise? The words “resolve” and “work” leap from the screen. Indeed, every hardworking person I’ve ever known would latch onto those right away. But resolve and work are not the ends; they are the means. Let me encourage in you a keen awareness toward a certain delightful phrase in Scripture: “so that.” These two wonderful words introduce the promise – so that the name of our Lord Jesus may be glorified in you, and you in him.

     There are dozens of motivations to good works, maybe hundreds. I could build an exhaustive list, but that would be exhausting… for you and me both. Instead, as a major fan of scientific method, I’ll present a hypothesis; then, you and I together can search for biblical evidence to confirm or deny.

     Hypothesis: “The purest motivation to good works is a desire to glorify Jesus.”

     As a starting point, let’s pray for more desire to glorify Jesus. Maybe you’re lacking, maybe you’re not. One thing is for sure: we get distracted. Not saying it’s a sin, only fact. Logically, then, there’s room for more. And it can’t hurt.

     To that end, please see again the prayer/blessing from above. Here, I’ll copy and paste, so you don’t even have to scroll back up:

    To this end we always pray for you, that our God may make you worthy of his calling and may fulfill every resolve for good and every work of faith by his power, so that the name of our Lord Jesus may be glorified in you, and you in him, according to the grace of our God and the Lord Jesus Christ (2Thessalonians 1:11-12).  

     Nineteen-point-five centuries ago, Paul, Sylvanus, and Timothy were praying that over the Thessalonian Christians. Jesus – who is able to save to the uttermost those who draw near to God through him, since he always lives to make intercession for them (Hebrews 7:25) – is praying it over you and me right now. Our eldest brother wants his younger brothers and sisters to succeed.

     The crowds are already thinning at Planet Fitness. No surprise. I saw an interview with the owner of a different fitness center who said his whole year’s revenues are set in January and February. Wow. Maybe his clients pay a year at a time. Maybe they stay away from Apple Watch commercials longer than I did. My advice on Quitters’ Day is:

 Ignore it.

 

 Grace and Peace (to pray instead of quit),

 

John

 

Brow Sweat, Part 5: Cooperation

 

Hey, Cobblestone,

     With apologies up front to football fans, an NFL game is the silliest thing on earth. Twenty-two men line up, eleven facing eleven, with an odd-shaped ball between them. Play starts with the ball moving away from the goal line. In the next few seconds, eleven players do their best to keep the ball moving backward, while the other eleven do their best to reverse the direction in which the ball started. Success is measured in three-foot increments. Hundreds of millions of dollars are expended. Meanwhile, here’s an unassailable fact: my three-year-old granddaughter could move the ball farther and faster if the twenty-two big boys would simply get out of the way, all for a handful of M&M’s.

     Here's my fantasy football scenario. Picture a residential street, new, with no homes along it yet. Make it a cul-de-sac, just for the sake of maximizing the cozy. On each side of the street are five foundations, ready to have houses built on them. The buses roll in and the players pile out. Tools and equipment are issued to each. Object of the game: to see which team can build the best five houses soonest.

     Offensive linemen become hod-carriers, mixing the mortar and hauling the brick. The secondary gets started on framing. Special teams become electricians and plumbers and HVAC. Defensive linemen get to hoist twelve-foot sheets of five-eighths drywall straight onto the ceiling joists, while the kickers shoot the screws. Wide receivers become roofers. Quarterbacks… hmm, well, I guess every jobsite needs a foreman. Everybody gets to do something worthwhile.

     In this scenario, ten houses go together, to be occupied by ten households who turn the structures into homes. Everybody wins; nobody loses. In a word, it’s cooperation instead of competition.

     Economists tell us that competition drives innovation forward and keeps prices down. Within a certain context, I can’t disagree with them. But the certain context assumes, up front, that cooperation isn’t possible. Looks like we need a broader context.

     Have you read the end of the story? Whatever your end-times beliefs are, one feature of eternity is unmistakable: there will be one King, unopposed and unquestioned. From the Prophets through the Epistles and into the Revelation, Scripture points to a time when time is obsolete and the plan that was from the beginning comes to total fruition. Permits have already been issued; ground has been broken.

     What kind of work do you do? How does it fit with the end of the story? If you can identify many aspects of your work that seem to correlate with God’s finished plan, my pastorly advice would be: Rejoice! If not, please don’t despair. Instead, ask the Holy Spirit to show you how your work fits into the plan. There will be more ways than you could think of on your own. And that’s not just a dime-store promise from me, but rather a solid scriptural principle based on the following verse…

    Therefore, my beloved brothers and sisters, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that in the Lord your labor is not in vain (1Corinthians 15:58).      

     Hey, Church, in the Lord your labor is not in vain. Hear it again: in the Lord your labor is not in vain! Believe it. Own it. Let it permeate whatever work you do. Your labor is not in vain. Maybe the understanding of this promise is still in the future, but that doesn’t make the promise any less solid.

     All of us have had nights when, laying head to pillow, we wondered whether anything we did during the just-gone day was worth anything at all. Did a needle move in a good direction, anywhere, even in the tiniest degree? It’s a condition that’s plagued me all of my working life. Viewed through a microscope, very few days will appear fruitful.

     Our Father, our King, gives us a better lens, a telescope and portal into that broader context. Even now, we work for one King, as I pointed out in a previous letter. Competition is so pre-Christian. Jesus initiated the kingdom and the kingdom to come. It’s all headed that way. Read the end of the story again, and ask the Lord to help you focus your work to resemble, more and more, what is certainly and astoundingly on its way already.

     At this advanced age, I’ve come to groan over competition, especially when cooperation would move us ahead so much quicker and better. Companies – churches, too, for that matter – stepping on one another’s heads, grinding competitors into the turf to gain a few yards here and there. And if it’s not according to the finished plan, then it’s not just for nothing, it’s all for loss.

     This will be the last letter in the “Brow Sweat” series, my humble attempt at explaining why-the-heck we humans get up off our tushes to work, anyway – to describe the nature of work in the Creator’s creation. If there’s any encouragement to be had from these letters, perhaps I could sum it up as so:

·         Christians are headed toward a better Garden than Adam and Eve ever had

·         Sin has separated us from God, but not negated all of original blessing

·         Jesus has given us a preview of all the best parts of what’s to come

·         We get to be sanctified – made more like Jesus – as we travel on the way.

    With these encouragements, I hope you are strengthened. I hope you build resolve, not by gritting teeth, but by rejoicing in work. I hope you see more of the kingdom coming every day.

     If I get the boldness, I’m going to call up the commissioner of the NFL and pitch my fantasy scenario. I’ll bet Habitat for Humanity would approve. (Maybe Habitat has made the call already?) I’d love to see what twenty-two very large, very strong men could do on a building site when, instead of banging their heads together, they’re putting their heads together. 

  

Grace and Peace (and boldness to cooperate),

 

John

Brow Sweat, Part 4: Mythbusters

 

Hey, Cobblestone,

     Of all the myths we could choose to bust, this is the one I want to poke on today: the myth of work/life balance. For a few letters now, we’ve been considering the nature of work. We’ve seen that work is not a consequence of sin: the first two humans had great jobs before sin even became a thing. We’ve seen that work is not a curse: humans still prosper by working. We’ve also seen that – however many bosses we’ve had, good or bad – we ultimately work for the King of all creation. In this letter, I hope to undo the idea that work and life are mutually exclusive.

     Get a visual with me: an old-fashioned scale. There’s a vertical part, a horizontal part that pivots, with a pan hanging from each end. When items of equal weight are placed in the pans, the horizontal part is level – the items are balanced. All is good, until something – anything at all – lands on one pan and not the other. The top part goes a little sideways… or a lot sideways.

     Now imagine Work in one pan and Life in the other. How do we keep the top part from going sideways? We could add from the Work pile and the Life pile in equal amounts at the exact same time. Good luck with that. I can add from one pile, but as soon as I turn to grab from the other, the whole thing goes wonky. Am I telling the truth?

     Now throw away the whole scale metaphor, and let’s go with another:

“Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light” (Matthew 11:28-30, Jesus speaking).

     Literally, a yoke is the beam of wood connecting two draft animals – maybe oxen – so that their pulling efforts can be combined. Metaphorically, to take on the “yoke” of a rabbi (teacher) meant to submit to his teaching. Jesus uses the literal and the metaphorical in harmony: The rest that he’s offering is not the end of working; if there were no more work to do, he wouldn’t be talking about a yoke. Jesus integrates work and rest – Work and Life – rather than separating them.

     Somewhere in my going-to-church memory, I heard a preacher give an illustration that involved a fellow out for a morning walk. The walker went past a site where a cathedral was being built, and spoke to three bricklayers in turn:

    “Good morning, sir! What are you doing?”

    “Mister, I’m just puttin’ one brick on top of another.”

    He walked on and addressed the second: “Good morning, sir! What are you doing?”

    “I’m working this job to put food on the table for my family.”

    The third bricklayer got the same greeting: “Good morning, sir! What are you doing?”

    “I’m building a great cathedral where the faithful will come and worship God!”

    In the preacher’s illustration, the idea was to promote the third response as the only one worthwhile. But I would contend that all three responses are solid. 1) Brick walls don’t go together all at once; somebody has to put one brick on top of another. 2) Trading work for money is not a bad gig when it provides for one’s family. 3) Keeping the end goal in view brings satisfaction in the present.  

     I’ve punched enough time cards to know that the division between work and life is not entirely artificial. I’ve had more than one boss who, in effect, has said, “Your heart may belong to Jesus, but on the clock, your *** belongs to me!” We’ve all had plenty of those days when, if work follows us home, there will be no life. The question, then, is this: Why try to balance two things we’ve determined to be mutually exclusive?

     Jesus offers a better way. Look again at the Scripture and tell me: Does Jesus mention taking the yoke off? Indeed, putting the yoke on brings rest – and not just plain ol’ rest, but rest for the soul. It’s an odd concept, but it’s worth sticking with. Jesus isn’t offering another thing; he’s offering a different thing, and that’ll take some time to see.

     He offers integration over separation. It’s like all three bricklayers’ responses rolled into one: the wall goes up; the paycheck is earned; the cathedral gets finished. At the same time, life goes on and provision is made for worship and play. And whoever said worship and play can’t go to the jobsite? Certainly not Jesus. Integration erases the need for balance. And since balance is unattainable anyway, this should be happy news! It starts with three of the most beautiful words in Scripture:

    “Come to me…”

     With only a natural view of work, we will consistently fall for joy-killing ideas like “My work means nothing,” or “They’re not paying me what I’m worth.” But on the force of Jesus’ invitation – “Come to me…” – we can begin to see kingdom significance in everything we do, since Jesus is able to point it out to us. There’s further encouragement at the end of 1Corinthians, chapter 15:

    …knowing that in the Lord your labor is not in vain (verse 58).

     He’s not Jesus, but the poet Robert Frost assembled some words that lean toward the integration Jesus offers…

    But yield who will to their separation

    My goal in living is to unite

    My avocation and my vocation

    As my two eyes make one in sight.

    Only where love and need are one,

    And the work is play for mortal stakes,

    Is the deed ever really done

    For Heaven and the future’s sakes.  

     Having watched several episodes of Mythbusters with my grandson Austin, I know that some of their projects are more useful than others. If I’m driving a convertible and get caught in the rain with the top down, I could go faster and get a little less wet – or I could pull over, put the top up, and get a lot less wet. Oh, but the episode on the exploding water heater… I was paying close attention then! Knowing how to keep your water heater from exploding is mighty useful, but busting the myth of work/life balance has a far broader application. “Call the man, Aunt Bea,” if you don’t know how to make the water heater safe. For integrating work and life, definitely come to Jesus.

  

Grace and Peace (in work and play, play and work),

 

John