Results tagged “Work” from Reformation21 Blog

A Bored Generation?


Ours is the first generation of Christians that has seriously asked the question, how much time can I spend on entertaining myself? In all the reading I have done in the sixteenth and seventeenth century, I have never once come across this question in any serious fashion. It is not that these centuries, or the Christians who lived in them, were anti-leisure -- killjoys each one! They were not. No one has done more to dispel that caricature of the puritans, especially, than Leland Ryken in his justly praised book, Worldly Saints.

Nevertheless, ours is a generation in which leisure time has been built into the week's structure as a right. We have times ear-marked for entertaining - Friday evenings, the weekend, including (alas!) Sunday afternoons, despite strong Scripture texts warning us of the consequence of the latter (see, if you are willing, Isa. 58:13-14). Somehow, it never occurs to us to ask why it is that we never read of Jesus or the disciples simply "having fun." There is no word of Paul "hanging out" with the lads in Ephesus or Corinth. What does the Bible have to say about leisure and the way we should use it?

Here's a principle, tricky to be sure and likely to be misused, but a Bible one nevertheless: God has given to us a pattern, a rhythm if you will, of one day followed by six. One day of 'rest' followed by six days of 'labor.' Leaving aside for a minute whether its appropriate to use up the Lord's Day for entertainment, the principle that seems to be about right is that there's nothing inappropriate in spending about 15% of the week, one or two hours a day, in entertaining ourselves.

But here's the thing: it's far too easy to become a couch potato and slump in front of the TV for 3, 4, or even 6 hours at a stretch. That's letting entertainment get out of hand. It's not that a few hours are bad for us (though, of course, it depends on what it is we are watching!); it's just that, as Paul might say, it's not expedient.

Truth is, for all the entertainment on offer, ours is perhaps a bored generation. We have movies, malls and MP3 players and yet, the whine "There's nothing to do" can still be heard, loud and clear. A recent survey revealed that 71% of us want more "novelty" in our lives. Boredom is on the rise. Dr. Richard Winter, a psychologist at Covenant Theological Seminary suggests that Americans are being entertained to death. "Boredom can come from over stimulation. There is a sense in which you need more and more excitement, more stimulation to keep you interested," he writes. In fact, television shows today reveal that people are willing to do grosser and more disgusting things in order to find the requisite entertainment zing.

In his book, Still Bored in a Culture of Entertainment, Dr. Winter examines how boredom has increased as more leisure time has become available. In fact, he says the average person today has about 33,000 more leisure hours than a person in the mid-1800's.

Winter said, "These are addictive pursuits, so that people spend hours and hours, and that becomes their reality...they live in a virtual reality, rather than the real reality of God's world, the physical universe that we are set in."

Here's an idea guaranteed to revolutionize our assessment of the worth of entertainment: start reading books again! Never was there a time when the best of books were more available than the present. A few hours a day reading good literature would repay us handsomely.

Have you read any good books lately? 

*This post was originally published at Reformation21 in July of 2007.

The flood waters having receded, and Noah and family having disembarked from the ark, it was back to business as usual on earth in a number of discernable ways.

Thus we see, firstly, the restitution of the creation ordinance of marriage (Gen. 9.1), and, at least by Calvin's reckoning, a rather remarkable population boom in the first few centuries of post-flood human history. Noah's family was directed to "recover the lawful use of marriage," and so to rest assured that "the care of producing offspring" remained "pleasing to [God]." Accordingly, they returned to the pattern of marrying and procreating that characterized their pre-flood days; indeed, they did so with notable success, producing "within one hundred and fifty years" an "astonishing increase" of offspring, which "doubtless" resulted in "unbounded joy" for Noah, for it spoke clearly of "divine favor towards him."

We see, secondly, a return to work. "Noah, ...though now an old man, returned to the culture of the fields, and to his former labors." The resumption of his farming career must have felt rather anti-climactic to Noah, given the nature of his recent adventures. But work (along with rest/worship) is part of the normal pattern which God established for man even before the fall (Gen. 2.15). Calvin concedes that Noah may have added 'viticulturist' to his job description for the first time following the flood ("it is... uncertain whether he had been a vine-dresser or not") but he is not willing, being after all a good Frenchman, to concede that viticulture as such was strictly a post-flood pursuit. "It does not appear to me probable that the fruit of the vine, which excels all others, should have remained neglected and unprofitable [before the flood]."

We see, thirdly, a return to eating and drinking, a return to the enjoyment of the fruits of human work. Calvin refuses to see the permission to eat animals in Gen. 9.3 as something unique to the post-flood setting: "God here does not bestow upon men more than he had previously given." Men were, in other words, "permitted" from the very first "to kill wild beasts" for the very specific purposes of making "garments and tents" and padding their diet with protein. However, no license was given, before or after the flood, for superfluous shedding of "the innocent blood of cattle." As already indicated, Calvin believes God's "most precious gift" of wine was likewise entrusted to men from the very beginning, and so merely re-entrusted to men following the flood. Both gifts of God -- food and drink -- are, of course, susceptible to "shameful abuse." Neither gift should be despised on that or any other grounds.

We see, finally, a return to man doing what (fallen) man does, and God responding as God does. We see, in other words, man sinning (and sometimes, by God's grace, repenting), and God responding to man's sin in judgment, mercy, and promise. The flood was, of course, no ultimate resolution of sin. God's own post-flood observation that "every inclination of the human heart is evil from childhood" (Gen. 8.21) quickly proves concretely true in a series of incidents. Noah, first of all, engages in the "filthy and detestable crime [of] drunkenness" and prostrates himself "naked on the ground, so as to become a laughing-stock to all." Then Ham, who "must have been of a wicked, perverse, and crooked disposition, ... not only took pleasure in his father's shame, but wished to expose him to his brethren." Calvin supposes a deeper motive than simple scorn to Ham's mockery of his father: "It is probable that he thus perversely insulted his father, for the purpose of acquiring for himself the license of sinning with impunity. We see many such at this day, who most studiously pry into the faults of holy and pious men, in order that without shame they may precipitate themselves into all iniquity."

In the face of such (continuing) human sin, God remains God, and responds as God responds. Indeed, God responds to human sin even before man perpetuates any (recorded) concrete sinful acts after the flood. He responds with his covenant -- that is, his promise not to destroy the earth with flood-waters again, even though man's sin be great. God's word of promise serves, Calvin notes, as a "thousand bolts and bars" restraining the waters of his wrath, "lest they should break forth to destroy us." For man's greater confidence in God's mercy, God assigns a "new office" to "the celestial arch which had before existed naturally;" the rainbow henceforth serves as a "sign and pledge" of God's promise to restrain his own anger at human impiety.

In more immediate response to the instances of sin just noted, God responds in judgment and promise. Judgment is leveled against Canaan and the Canaanites, descendants of Ham, for Ham's actions. Calvin restrains us from overmuch speculation about why Canaan bears the brunt of cursing for Ham's sin. God is never, he notes, "angry with the innocent, because even they themselves are found in fault." Beyond that we must "remember that the judgments of God are not in vain called 'a great deep,' and that it would be a degrading thing for God, before whose tribunal we all must one day stand, to be subjected to our judgment." And so "let every one of us, conscious of his own infirmity, learn rather to ascribe praise to God's justice, than plunge, with insane audacity, into the profound abyss."

Of course, more remarkable than God's sentence of condemnation, whatever its own peculiarities, is God's promise -- directly in the face of man's sin -- of a hope and salvation far greater than that which Noah and his family had recently enjoyed. In this post-flood setting where God is obviously keen to re-establish so much of what pertained to the original creation, he is most eager to repeat the promise of the Seed of the Woman who would one day come to reverse the consequences of that sin which wreaked such havoc on the original creation (Gen. 3:15).

That Seed and his saving work bear proleptic fruit, of course, in the free pardon granted Noah for his drunken escapade (a pardon which can be deduced, Calvin argues, from Noah's faith and the prophetic role granted Noah immediately after his recovery in Gen. 9.25). The concrete repetition of the promise as such occurs in Gen. 9.26-27, where Shem and Japheth are blessed. The blessing of Shem anticipates the eventual blessing of Abraham, through whom the Seed would come, and in whom all nations would themselves be blessed (Gen. 12). The blessing of Japheth points, in Calvin's judgment, to the gathering of "the Gentiles and the Jews... together in one faith," the joining together of "scattered sheep to join his flock" in the singular "covenant of life." "It is truly no common support of our faith," Calvin observes, "that the calling of the Gentiles is not only decreed in the eternal counsel of God, but is openly declared by the mouth of the Patriarch; lest we should think it to have happened suddenly, or by chance, that the inheritance of eternal life was offered generally to all."

It was, then, truly business as usual after the flood, for both good and ill. Sinful man returned to his ways of marrying and making babies, eating and drinking, working and (for some) worshiping, and, of course, sinning. God remained God, and so returned to the business of pursuing sinners with his "paternal love," sustaining them by the word of his promise in the hope of eternal life with him.

Aaron Clay Denlinger is professor of church history and historical theology at Reformation Bible College in Sanford, Florida.
We tend towards one of two extremes in our attitudes towards work: either we make too little of it, or we make too much of it. We make too little of work when we regard it with contempt, when we treat it as an evil -- albeit a necessary one since it supplies the financial resources necessary to pursue the things we actually value (relationships, possessions, status, leisure, etc.).
Against any such tendency, we need to be reminded that God gave Adam a job immediately after he made him. "The earth was given to man... that he should occupy himself in its cultivation." Calvin doesn't hesitate to draw a universal principle from this -- not that we should all, in imitation of Adam, set ourselves to farming (or even manual labor), but that we should set ourselves to doing something. "Men were created to employ themselves in some work, and not to lie down in inactivity and idleness." Indeed, "nothing is more contrary to the order of nature, than to consume life in eating, drinking, and sleeping, while in the meantime we propose nothing to ourselves to do."

Calvin has much to say, in due course, about how we go about choosing something "to do." Selecting a job or career is a matter of measuring one's desires and abilities, and determining how one might best serve God and others -- not so much one's self -- with those desires and abilities. The fundamental point here, however, is that work is a good thing, an integral aspect of creaturely existence in a pre-fallen world, and so also in our fallen world. Work is not the product or penalty of humankind's rebellion against God, granted that some -- indeed a fairly significant -- degree of frustration has been introduced to all human work in consequence of that rebellion (Gen. 3.18-19).

But recognition of work's intrinsic goodness can leave us exposed to that other error to be avoided, making too much of work. We make too much of work when we treat it - rather than glorifying and enjoying God - as man's chief end, or as an indubitably permanent feature of creaturely existence. Against any tendency to over-value work, we must be reminded of two things: first, the relationship which work sustained to rest/worship in Eden; and second, the relationship which Eden itself as a whole, with work as one ingredient, sustained (and still sustains) to the eternal state (heaven, if you will).

According to Calvin, God's image bearers had a corporate calling which was higher than their individual vocations from the very beginning; namely, that they "daily exercise themselves to consider the infinite goodness, justice, power, and wisdom of God, in this magnificent theater of heaven and earth." God, in order to direct his image bearers towards that end, set apart one specific day--first by his own example, and then by benediction made upon his own day of rest (Gen 2:2-3)--for the exercise of such activity. In Calvin's judgment, the obligation for all men and women to desist from "other business" and "apply their minds to the Creator of the world" can be traced back to creation; it is, of course, an obligation binding "the whole human race."

God's sanctification of the seventh day (Gen. 2.3) and the peculiar responsibilities entrusted to us on that seventh day -- both rest, in imitation of God's own cessation from the work of creation, and worshipful contemplation of God and His ways -- mutually indicate that man's seventh-day activities are more significant than his other-six-day doings. If is, of course, a more profound thing "to celebrate the justice, wisdom, and power of God" in worship than it is to cultivate the soil (although both work and worship, in Calvin's vision, should ultimately be done to God's glory). This privileging of rest/worship over work, the latter succumbing to the former in a weekly pattern established by God, puts work in proper perspective.

Considering the relationship of the original, Edenic state to the eternal, heavenly state also serves to put work in proper perspective. In Calvin's judgment, Adam's life in Eden was ultimately a temporary one, regardless of whether he stood or fell. "His earthly life truly would have been temporal; ...he would have passed into heaven without death, and without injury." Thus Adam too, before he fell, was called to "meditate on heavenly glory" while "passing through his earthly life." This was no idiosyncratic view on Calvin's part; both before and after the Reformation the view was prevalent that God always intended something surpassing Eden's splendors for his human creatures.

If Adam's "earthly life" was in fact temporary, so also was the job he was given. In other words, even in a sinless world, work would have given way to that eternal rest, worship, and fellowship with God which was from the very beginning prophetically imaged in humankind's weekly rest, worship, and fellowship with God. This may prove a hard pill to swallow for those who, quite frankly, value work so highly, or so find identity in their occupations, that the promise of a heaven without work sounds like the loss of all they cherish and the dissolution of self (i.e., hell). But neither Calvin nor Scripture offer any suggestion that work in general, or our specific callings in this life, will survive the transition to the next. Our lives in the life to come will, I suspect, be rather busy (without being tiring), but that busyness won't entail finishing up those projects we never quite managed to complete before the present heavens and earth were rolled up like scroll (Isa. 34.4).

Calvin calls us to walk a fine line in our assessment of work, neither underestimating nor overestimating its value. His vision of a work/rest pattern for God's image bearers makes ideas about work championed by our present-day culture seem rather thin by comparison. His vision simply cannot be reconciled with models which treat work as the rather unpleasant but necessary price of admission to weekends and holidays of self-indulgence, or those which make occupation the definition of a person, and offer him or her weekends and holidays (rest) as a mere chance to recharge the batteries for greater productivity. Against either unsatisfactory view, Calvin offers us his vision: six days of fruitful, God-glorifying work (a high calling) culminating in one day of rest and concentrated worship and enjoyment of God (an even higher calling), which day of rest and worship anticipates and prophetically images that eternal rest and enjoyment of God which he, the fall notwithstanding, has prepared for his people (the highest calling).

Books and business

A few days ago a brother in the church which I serve asked me for book recommendations for Christians in business. Having only two or three volumes at my disposal, I wrote out to a few fellow-pastors and other friends seeking their counsels.

What follows is a consolidated list of responses. I wish particularly to thank David Murray of HeadHeartHand, who kindly provided me with a catalogue of links he has compiled over time addressing matters of business or vocation (included at the bottom of the book list). I should make clear that several respondents made plain that book mentions or links did not constitute unqualified endorsements (noted below at one or two points), a point which I would echo, and everything here should - as ever - be read with discernment and care. However, I trust that it might prove useful to others, and so I offer it in that hope.

I also thought you might appreciate the following counsel, passed on through one man:
"I would simply tell any Christian entrepreneur to go for all providence will afford with two major texts bolstering your front and rear: Mark 4:19 (". . . and the cares of this world, the deceitfulness of riches, and the desires for other things entering in choke the word, and it becomes unfruitful") and Proverbs 23:4-5 ("Do not overwork to be rich; because of your own understanding, cease! Will you set your eyes on that which is not? For riches certainly make themselves wings; they fly away like an eagle toward heaven").
And now, that book list . . .

And the Murray links . . .