Our life's work (Part 2: Holy handkerchiefs and aprons)

My previous blog post explored two kinds of work as described in the Bible, which I defined as Life-work (working for the food of eternal life, which is Jesus) and dust-work (working for perishable food, such as bread and butter). 

Today's blog post illustrates each of these through St Paul, who served Christ as an apostle and supported himself financially through his tentmaking trade. I also seek to clarify the relationship between Life-work and dust-work, especially how the lines can blur.

As I described last week, Life-work begins with believing in Jesus (John 6:29), which means knowing and belonging to him as our Lord and our God (John 20:28). When we believe in Jesus, he gives us the Holy Spirit to empower us to do Life-work (John 7:38-39). 

St Paul's belief in Jesus came quite suddenly and unexpectedly. As a Pharisee, St Paul (formerly called Saul) had once persecuted Christians, arresting them and consenting to some of their deaths. However, on a journey to Damascus, Christ visited him in a blinding flash of light, saying, 'Saul! Saul! Why do you persecute me?' (Acts 9:4).

St Paul on the road to Damascus

This encounter eventually transformed St Paul into a follower of the Way of Christ. Like the disciples before him, St Paul left his old life and dust-work behind and, in turning towards Christ, received the Holy Spirit. His Life-work began.

St Paul had a steep learning curve, but he hit the ground running, and with other believers, he served as Christ's witness to the people Christ sent him to. His Life-work involved teaching in synagogues that Jesus is the Son of God (see Acts 9:20); performing miracles in Jesus' name (e.g. 14:8-10); and travelling throughout Asia minor and the Mediterranean, persuading Jews and Gentiles to believe in Jesus (17:16-34) and strengthening communities in the Way of Christ (13:13-14:28), just to give a few examples.

Although St Paul had left behind his Pharisaic dust-work to do apostolic Life-work, he still needed to financially support himself and his companions. This he did through dust-working as a tentmaker.

The flexibility of freelance tentmaking enabled St Paul to earn his keep while travelling and preaching. Through his trade, he also built networks that supported his ministry. For example, in Corinth, he formed a business partnership with two other tentmakers named Aquila and Priscilla, presumably also believers in Jesus, who then became his companions in missionary work (Acts 18:1-3; 18).

Thus, tentmaking wasn't only for earning bread. St Paul used his dust-work as a tool to enable him to do Life-work.

Perhaps even more surprising, his dust-work itself became a form of ministry, as I will next explain.

St Aquila, St Priscilla and St Paul

During St Paul's two years in Ephesus, the book of Acts tells us, 'God did extraordinary miracles through Paul, so that even handkerchiefs and aprons that had touched him were taken to the sick, and their illnesses were cured and the evil spirits left them' (19:11).

Such handkerchiefs and aprons, according to scholars, were used by tradespeople in those days for wiping sweat off their faces and protecting their clothes while working (the same is true today). Likely, St Paul used these items regularly in his manual work, so it seems that in the midst of tentmaking, his work objects were used to heal people from illnesses and evil spirits, resulting in many more people turning to Christ.

The phrase ‘even handkerchiefs and aprons’ implies that there were more significant objects in St Paul’s toolbox, so if God used such minor details, then how much more did he transform the rest of St Paul's tentmaking work!

In other words, St Paul's dust-work became Life-work. God breathed the Holy Spirit into St Paul's tentmaking, making it a source of life.

How did these miracles happen? I believe it was St Paul's relationship with Christ that transformed his handkerchiefs and aprons--indeed, every aspect of his life. St Paul preached not only in synagogues or town squares; his whole life, including his tentmaking, was a sermon that spoke of God's mercy and love (see Acts 20:34-35 and 1 Thess. 2:8-9).

Everything he did, from preaching to travelling to tentmaking, belonged to Christ. As St Paul writes to servants (and which applies to workers of any kind), 'Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving' (Col. 3:23-24).

Through serving Christ in all things, St Paul blurred the lines between dust-work and Life-work. This shows that it's pointless to try and determine whether work is Life-work or dust-work based on a job title, whether tentmaker, joiner, administrator, medical or care worker, farmer, teacher, parent or other roles. Rather, Life-work is determined by whether the work belongs to Christ.

Through our relationship with Christ, God can use our work to bring healing and life to others.

Unlike St Paul's handkerchiefs and aprons, I can't say that any of my proofreading/editing objects, such as my laptop and USB keyboard, have healed anyone. Still, this leads me to ask how my dust-work can become life-giving, even to a small degree.

I offer the following questions, mostly specific to my work, in hope that you may recognise parallel questions for your circumstances.

How can my editing comments encourage and inspire my clients, especially when their writing is personal and sensitive? How can I challenge my clients to write to their best ability? How can I support their efforts at communicating ideas that may influence other people for good? Does my communication and work with colleagues reflect Christ's mercy?

Most importantly, in whatever I do, do I work at it with all my heart, knowing that it is the Lord Christ I am serving?

To conclude, as shown in St Paul's life, our calling is to belong to Christ to the point that everything we do--even the most seemingly insignificant act--also belongs to Christ, thus making it Life-work.

Our life's work (Part 1: Two kinds of work)

The Cranberry Harvest, East of Nantucket, Eastman Johnson, 1880

One of the things I enjoy about proofreading/editing is learning about a variety of interesting topics.

One paper I came across recently was about the Peach Blossom Spring, a poem written by the Chinese poet Tao Yuanming in 421 CE. In the tale, a fisherman accidentally discovers a village surrounded by a forest of blossoming peach trees, where people co-exist in utopian harmony. Some paintings inspired by the fable depict farmers peacefully working in their fields.

A more recent western manifestation of harmonious labour might be The Cranberry Harvest, East of Nantucket (shown above), displayed in the Timken Art Gallery in Balboa Park (San Diego, California). In this oil painting, Eastman Johnson depicts cranberry pickers of all ages revelling in their work, enjoying the rural setting and each other's company.

And thus the subject of this blog post

This has prompted me to think about the nature of work; specifically, two kinds of work described in the book of Genesis. 

After God creates the world, he plants a garden where all kinds of trees grow, including the tree of life (Gen. 2:8-9). God puts the man he has formed in the Garden of Eden 'to work it and take care of it' (v. 15), telling Adam he can enjoy and eat of every tree except for one (vv.16-17). God then makes Eve to help him in this work (v. 18). 

This is the first kind of work, which I will call Life-work: caring for God's garden, enjoying its provision and being able to eat of the tree of life. 

However, as we know, Adam and Eve eat from the forbidden tree, which results in their expulsion from the garden; this also results in their eventual death, since they no longer have access to the tree of life (vv. 22-24). God curses the ground from which Adam came and from which he must now work for food, rather than depending on the trees of the garden:

'Cursed is the ground because of you;
through painful toil you will eat of it
all the days of your life.
It will produce thorns and thistles for you,

and you will eat the plants of the field.

By the sweat of your brow you will eat your food

until you return to the ground,

since from it you were taken;

for dust you are and to dust you will return' (vv. 17-19). 

This is the second kind of work, which I will call dust-work: struggling to survive until we return to the dust.

Adam and Eve expelled from paradise

Life-work is enjoyable and fulfilling compared to dust-work, which is cursed to be challenging and tiresome. Both kinds of work result in nourishment, but in Life-work the food (fruit from the garden, especially the tree of life) comes with joy, while in dust-work the food (field plants) comes with strain. 

Because humanity is exiled from the garden, we are also barred from participating in Life-work. Our work, even the most fulfilling or enjoyable, is still only dust-work because it remains under the curse.

I don't think I need to provide an example of dust-work. Most of us have had jobs that are physically, emotionally, mentally and spiritually challenging, whether paid or unpaid. Any job comes with stress, some more than others; if not, then we don't usually consider it 'work'. 

Or maybe Life-work is possible for us

These two kinds of work are picked up centuries later by Jesus when he tells a crowd, 'Do not work for food that spoils, but for food that endures to eternal life, which the Son of Man will give you' (John 6:27). 

By working for 'food that spoils,' he is referring to dust-working for material food; by working for 'food that endures to eternal life,' he is referring to Life-working for eternal food.

Thus, Jesus says that it is possible to do Life-work. But how?

This is similar to the question the crowd asks Jesus: 'What must we do to do the works God requires?' (v. 28).

Jesus answers, 'The work of God is this: to believe in the one he has sent' (v. 29). In other words, Life-work is believing in Jesus, which nourishes us not with food that perishes but with the food that is Jesus himself, the bread of God that comes down from heaven and gives life to the world (v. 33). 

Jesus develops this later when he says, 'Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, streams of living water will flow from within him' (John 7:38). The streams of living water are the Holy Spirit, given to those who believe in Jesus (v. 39).

In other words, when we do the Life-work of believing in Jesus, we open ourselves to the Holy Spirit, who then empowers us to do more Life-works that God requires (see John 14:12). 

Thus, whereas the curse had prevented humans from entering the Garden of Eden and so eating from the tree of life, Christ has opened a new way for us into paradise through believing in him, restoring to us our calling to do Life-work.

Then what does it mean to believe in Jesus?

Believing in Jesus is illustrated clearly at the end of the Gospel of John, when St Thomas encounters the risen Christ and says, 'My Lord and my God!' (John 20:28). 

For St Thomas, Jesus is not simply a Lord and a God, or even the Lord and the God, but 'My Lord and my God!' (italics added). St Thomas' knowledge of Jesus' authority and divinity, as important as that knowledge is, does not alone give him life. Even the demons believe that there is one God (James 2:19), but this does not result in their salvation.

Rather, St Thomas declares that Jesus is his Lord and his God. St Thomas enters a relationship with Christ in which he knows that his service and worship belong to Christ.

In response, Jesus tells him that he has believed because he has seen Jesus, but 'blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed' (John 20:29).

Thus, believing in Jesus means knowing him: both intellectually knowing that he is Lord and God, but especially relationally knowing that we belong to him (see also John 17:3).

When we know Jesus as our Lord and our God, we receive life in his name (see John 20:31) and begin the journey into paradise. We open ourselves for the Holy Spirit to live in us so that we may perform the Life-works God has for us to do.

St Thomas witnessing the risen Christ

Living to work or working to live?: Some final thoughts

As seen in the example of the Peach Blossom Spring, the art it has inspired and other similar works, it seems to be in humanity's DNA to seek paradise, not so much for relaxation as for purposeful work, minus the stress and decay that usually accompany it.

As meaningful as our work may be in this life (and I know some people fortunate enough to have had deeply meaningful jobs), I believe it never crosses over from dust-work to Life-work until we believe in Jesus. That is, only through believing in Jesus--knowing him as our Lord and our God--does our work, indeed everything we do, take on the deepest meaning by connecting it with Christ, who is the fruit of the tree of life. 

When we know him in this way, abiding in him as he abides in us (John 15:4) through eating his body and drinking his blood (6:53-56), we begin living as Adam and Eve were meant to live in the Garden of Eden, stepping into our roles as caretakers of God's world and tasting in advance the feast of the heavenly kingdom.

An example of someone who did both dust-work and Life-work is St Paul, whom I will look at in more detail in my next post. For now, I will close by saying that through believing in Jesus, St Paul not only supported himself through the dust-work of tentmaking, but he Life-worked as a witness of Christ to live eternally.

Transplanting vegetables and the Gospel

'Cos lettuce' among onions

Much of my gardening time lately has been spent transplanting.

For example, the 'cos lettuce' is now growing clustered together about three millimetres apart. They need more space to grow to a decent size (more like three inches apart), so I find gaps in the veg patch to relocate them, such as between the sets of antler-like onion blades. The tennis-ball green and sprawling shapes of the lettuce stand out nicely in a different area of the garden. 

Then there are the transplants given to us by other gardeners: Brussels sprouts, kale, flowers. Each one comes with its own social distancing requirements. I slowly remove them from their containers and gently place them in the earth to ease the shock of their transition. I make sure they are well-watered so that their roots can establish in the new soil.

Transplanting comes with the satisfaction of watching the garden slowly filling up. 

As I transplant, and as the garden fills up, I think of how God, as shown in the scriptures, desires his world to be filled, sometimes using transplanting to do that. I see two themes of this transplanting and filling in the Bible.

The first theme of transplanting and filling is that humanity must spread throughout the earth. In the book of Genesis, after creating the first people, God blesses them and tells them, 'Be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it' (1:28). 

As the book unfolds, people naturally increase and fill the earth. But in one settlement, the people decide to build a city and a high tower to make a name for themselves and 'not be scattered over the face of the earth' (11:4).

Here the people resist God's command to 'fill the earth'; instead, they want to glorify themselves and stay put.

When God learns about their plan, he decides to stop it to prevent them from doing great harm (v. 6). God confuses their language so that they cannot cooperate to complete the tower, and then '[scatters] them over the face of the whole earth' (v. 9), fulfilling God's original vision. In other words, God transplants them to fill his garden. 

The second theme of transplanting and filling is that the Gospel must spread throughout the world. 

In the short time after the execution of Jesus of Nazareth, something happened that transformed his defeated followers into a courageous community boldly proclaiming a message of hope and salvation accompanied by powerful signs. 

They claimed that God had raised Jesus from the dead, making him the champion over death and establishing him as Lord and Saviour. They explained that, because of Jesus' exaltation, God had now poured out the Holy Spirit on them, and that all who turned to Jesus through repentance and baptism would receive the forgiveness of sins and the gift of the Holy Spirit (Acts 2:22-41). 

These disciples understood that Jesus had commissioned them to be his witnesses 'in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth' (Acts 1:8).

So, the disciples transplanted themselves throughout Asia and Europe. Instead of seeking to build a tower to make a name for themselves, they built communities to worship God and bring the truth and healing to others in the name of Jesus Christ (Acts 9:34). 

Sometimes the disciples' movements were prompted from within, such as by a vision or communal discernment (Acts 16:6-10); sometimes they came from outside forces, such as persecution (Acts 8:1b-4). Sometimes they were transplanted into communities for years; sometimes months; sometimes only for the length of a conversation.

On one occasion, an angel tells Philip to travel down a certain road: the desert road 'that goes down from Jerusalem to Gaza', to be specific (Acts 8:26). He does, and there he finds an Ethiopian eunuch reading a prophecy from the scriptures but not understanding it. Beginning with that passage, Philip tells him 'the good news about Jesus' and then, as requested, baptizes him. Suddenly the Spirit takes Philip away -- God transplants him elsewhere to preach the Gospel -- leaving the Ethiopian eunuch alone but joyful at what he has received (vv. 27-40).

St Philip and the Ethiopian eunuch

Whatever the cause for the disciples' transplants, the result has been that, ever since those times, the Gospel has been spreading to every corner of the earth, which Jesus said must happen before the end of the world (Matt. 24:14).

This leaves me with three main thoughts I consider for myself. I hope they can be of use to you as well. 

1) What if God has transplanted me to where I am now? What if my being here is part of God's vision, not only for my life, but even beyond that (Acts 17:26)? 

I can trace many of the decisions, large and small, that my wife and I made, and the events surrounding them, that brought us here to this part of Cumbria. But what if, underneath those choices and circumstances, God's hand was mysteriously at work? 

2) If there is a divine reason for my being here, what if that reason is primarily to encounter Christ? What if my present circumstances are my own desert road between Jerusalem to Gaza, like the one the Ethiopian traveller was on, the location where I can hear and more deeply understand the good news of Jesus?

3) Having experienced Christ, how can I, like the disciples being transplanted to new places to share the gospel, be Christ's witness to people here in this place?

Like a good gardener, God looks after the wellbeing of the world, and has commanded humanity to spread throughout the earth to care for it in God's name.

God also looks after the wellbeing of humanity. The most important way has been through giving us his Son Jesus, in whom we find life and healing. This is the message that we are called to receive and then give to all people so that they may have life.

As the prophet Habakkuk writes, 'For the earth will be filled with the knowledge of the glory of the LORD, as the waters cover the sea' (2:14) -- or as the vegetable plants cover the garden!

Homemaking

Azaleas and rhododendrons in a garden

When my wife Miriam and I go out walking, we sometimes see neighbours working hard on their houses: painting, gardening or doing other decorating/maintenance. We ourselves have been doing some 'homemaking' during lockdown. 

It has struck me how important it is for people to transform their living spaces into homes by making them fit, clean and beautiful.

Whereas a house/flat meets our physical needs for shelter, a home meets our deeper needs for belonging.

I have recently been writing about how our true home is in Christ, and in my previous post, I asked how we can prepare to be with him after our resurrection.

One way we can prepare is through homemaking.

Just as people decorate and maintain their physical houses, we can beautify and prepare our lives to be homes in which Christ dwells.

In the Gospel of John, Jesus says, 'Anyone who loves me will obey my teaching. My Father will love them, and we will come to them and make our home with them' (14:23).

In other words, Christ wants to live and belong in us, building a home in us founded on the love of God. How? He makes his home in us when we obey his teaching. 

Christ taught many things, but they can, if necessary, be summed up in his commands to love. Jesus taught that the greatest commandment is this: 'Hear, O Israel: the Lord our God, the Lord is one. Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength' (Mark 28:29-30). The second greatest is like it: 'Love your neighbour as yourself' (v. 31). 

Thus, when we love God with all that we are and love our neighbour as ourselves, then God, who is love, makes his home in us.

This is quite abstract, so I'd like to offer Mary and Martha as examples of two people who obeyed Jesus' teaching and in whom Christ made a home. 

Mary and Martha were the sisters of Lazarus, whom Jesus raised from the dead. The Gospel of John says that after Jesus raised Lazarus, and soon before Jesus' crucifixion, a dinner was given in Jesus' honour, probably at Mary and Martha's house.

St Lazarus, Jesus, St Mary and St Martha

John writes that while they were at the table, Mary took a pint of expensive perfume, 'poured it on Jesus' feet and wiped his feet with her hair. And the house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume' (12:3). 

One disciple objects, saying the perfume could have been used for a better purpose, but Jesus says that it was important for Mary to honour him in this way, preparing him for his burial. 

Mary's humble devotion illustrates love for God. Through our prayers and worship, we too can honour God, filling our lives with spiritual fragrance the way the scent of azaleas and other flowers fills a garden. Some may object that such time and energy spent for God can serve a more useful function, but worship is not wasteful; rather, it is life-giving and fulfils our very purpose. 

On another occasion, when Mary is chided by Martha for spending time with the Lord rather than doing more useful things, Jesus says that Mary has chosen the one thing that is needed (Luke 10:42). 

Through Mary's worship, everyone at the table witnesses a sweet scent. Christ, in his love, makes his home in their midst. 

Regarding Martha, John simply writes that 'Martha served' (v. 2) -- but surely this is an understatement! From what we know of Martha, she probably spent all day preparing the meal, not even joining the others very long to eat because she needed to be in the kitchen checking on the pudding.

Martha's humble service illustrates love for neighbour. She welcomes Jesus and the other guests, creating an atmosphere that enables them all to feel at home, to more deeply trust each other and belong to God. We do something similar when we consider the needs of others and support them. Our relationship becomes a table at which we feast with them, in the presence of Jesus, providing security and nourishment.

Through Martha's hospitality, everyone at the table is satisfied, no longer hungry or alone. Christ, in his love, makes his home in their midst. 

Thus, through their worship and hospitality, Mary and Martha make room for Jesus, the true homemaker, to live in them. As a result, their lives emit the warm light and healing aroma of Christ. 

We, too, can invite Christ to make his home in us through loving God and other people. In so doing, we become more fit to join him in the great feast of his kingdom after our resurrection.

Song: Ubi caritas (Taizé Community)

Where charity and love are, there God is

Preparing to wake up

At the end of my previous post, I wrote about Christ and his people, both those who are alive and those who have 'fallen asleep.'

I want to unpack the last part about falling asleep, as I think many people, including myself, have lately been thinking about death and resurrection.

'Falling asleep' has been the Christian expression for physical death since the time of the apostles (1 Cor. 15:20). The phrase implies that death is not the end; that, just as we wake up in the morning after we sleep, we will live again after we die. 

This understanding comes from Jesus' own words to his disciples: 'For just as the Father raises the dead and gives them life, even so the Son gives life to whom he is pleased to give it. . . . I tell you the truth, a time is coming and has now come when the dead will hear the voice of the Son of God and those who hear will live. . . . Do not be amazed at this, for a time is coming when all who are in their graves will hear his voice and come out -- those who have done good will rise to live, and those who have done evil will rise to be condemned' (John 5:21, 25, 28-29).

In other words, a resurrection awaits us all, and after that, a reckoning of our lives: those who followed Christ will experience fullness of life, and those who did evil will face condemnation.

Reilig Oran and St Oran's Chapel

As I have mentioned before, the Iona Community has a weekly pilgrimage on the Isle of Iona, where pilgrims walk around the island in prayer and reflection.

The pilgrimage ends in Reilig Oran, a graveyard where, for centuries, people have been buried in the hope of the resurrection. There the pilgrimage group remembers how Christ's own tomb was not only the location of his burial, but more importantly, the location of his resurrection. 

Then the group remembers many Celtic Saints who have come before, who themselves embarked on pilgrimages seeking the 'place of their resurrection': the places where they would serve God until they died, trusting that there they would hear Christ's voice calling them out of their sleep on the morning of their resurrection. 

Such Saints recognised that this world was not their home; they were pilgrims journeying towards the kingdom of God. Like the Hebrews exiled in Babylon, although they sought the welfare of the lands in which they lived (Jer. 29:7), they strived for their true homeland of eternal life in God. They prepared themselves, body and soul, to meet Christ face to face.

Such a vision transformed everything they did. They experienced Christ's power in their lives, the influence of which continues to be recognised and remembered today.

We, too, are invited to be pilgrims journeying towards our true home. How can we, like the Saints, prepare ourselves now for waking up after we sleep?

I close with one of the Church's prayers for those who have fallen asleep, which can remind us of our home in Christ:

Remember, O Lord, those who have fallen asleep
in hope of resurrection to eternal life,
[our family members]
and all those who have died in piety and faith;
and pardon them every offence,
willing and unwilling, 
in word or deed or thought,
by which they have offended.

Settle them in places of light, 
places of green pasture,
places of rest,
from which all sorrow, grief, and sighing have fled,
where the presence of your face gives joy to all your Saints from every age.

Grant them and us your Kingdom,
and participation in your ineffable and eternal good things,
and the enjoyment of your infinite and blessed life.

For you are the life, the resurrection, and the repose
of your servants who have fallen asleep, Christ our God,
and to you we give glory,
together with your Father who is without beginning,
and your all-holy, good, and life-giving Spirit,
now and forever, and to the ages of ages. Amen.

Listen: In the Lord, Taizé Community (sometimes sung at the end of the Iona Communiy pilgrimage)

Morning on Iona