The Work of Love and the Love of Work

As much as we think of ourselves as self-made men and women, we are significantly shaped by forces outside of our control, both forces inside of us and forces outside of us. This is especially true when we begin to get into the practical things of life. For example, consider sex and sexuality. Most of us are acutely aware that the culture in which we live continually shapes us into certain kinds of people, people who think a certain way about our bodies and what sex is all about. Even as Christians, it takes a tremendous effort to keep the gospel and its statements about who we are in front of ourselves. We can quickly become misshapen in our sexual urges and actions unless we continually ponder what the gospel says about who we are and how God has made us.

The same dynamic is true about how we treat each other. We are largely shaped, whether we realize it or not, by forces outside of our control. Our culture forms us into certain patterns of behavior when others disagree with us, especially about politics. I was struck by a study a couple of years ago. Maybe you saw the same statistics. Political scientists studied the way in which we Americans have been shaped and formed to think about those who disagree with us politically.

Two questions stood out. First, when you think of those who disagree with you politically, do you think of them as wrong, disastrously wrong, or evil? 40% of Americans said evil. Second, have you ever caught yourself thinking from time to time that the country would be better off if a large number of people who disagreed with you politically died? 20% said, “I’ve had that thought before.” And do note that people on both the left and the right were responding in these ways.

You may be thinking to yourself, well, I wouldn’t answer that way. I’m not that extreme. I’m much more moderate in my opposition. Good. And yet, I think we all realize that we live in an environment that forms us to think and feel this way about people who disagree with us, even to say it would be better off if they just were no longer on this planet. Are we as immune to our cultural moment as we would like to think?

I hope we also know that as Christians, we can strongly disagree with those who we think are wrong, maybe even disastrously wrong, about any number of issues, and yet remember that there is no place in the Bible, at least as I understand it, for us to actively hate those people in our hearts. In fact, Jesus says just the opposite in Matthew 5, that we are to love our enemies. The world, he says, gives you full permission to hate. I tell you to love. As Christians, the gospel ought to fundamentally shape the way we treat other people. And this isn’t just true about the way that our political climate shapes us, whether we realize it or not.

The Apostle Paul writes something similar in his first letter to the Thessalonians:

Now concerning brotherly love you have no need for anyone to write to you, for you yourselves have been taught by God to love one another, for that indeed is what you are doing to all the brothers throughout Macedonia. But we urge you, brothers, to do this more and more, and to aspire to live quietly, and to mind your own affairs, and to work with your hands, as we instructed you, so that you may walk properly before outsiders and be dependent on no one. (1 Thessalonians 4:9–12)

While Paul obviously did not write this letter to 21^st-century believers struggling with the challenges of modern politics, he did write it to first-century believers struggling with issues just as huge. And surely he knew, just like we know, that forces outside of us are actively shaping the way we think about people who disagree with us in the political world.

When it comes to political antagonism, we need to recognize that our hearts live in this competitive environment. Forces both inside and outside of us shape how we treat one another. Many people, places, narratives, and even algorithms want to shape our affections and our reactions.  So, when we come to a verse like 1 Thessalonians 4:9, it may seem like a fastball right down the middle.  Love one another, of course. Of course. What else could a Christian possibly do? And yet, we don’t. Paul is saying that, as Christians, we need to keep putting the gospel at the top of the list. Otherwise, we will be formed by our world into something ugly.

Paul begins his discussion on the work of love in a rather interesting way. He says in verse 9, “Now concerning brotherly love…” Paul is writing to a group of people he knows. He was with them only a year before, and Timothy has now come back with a report of the past year. Paul, then, near the end of his letter is taking up topics, saying, essentially, “There’s this issue of brotherly love that we need to talk about.”

But notice how Paul introduces the issue. He says, “You have no need for anyone to write to you” about this. Which begs the question, why is Paul writing about it? Paul feels much like the person introducing a speaker, with the line, “This speaker needs no introduction.” Well, that should be the end of the introduction, but it never is—because this person is too important and and too impressive just to leave it at that.

In the same way, Paul is saying, love is central to the Christian life. I don’t really need to write to you about it because you’re doing it, but I’m still writing to you about it because you’re not doing it enough. And there’s always more to learn. So, Paul gives a reason this remains an active conversation, even though he says, “I don’t need to write to you.” He says, first of all, because whether we realize it or not, we are in Christ, an uncommon family.

The word Paul uses in verse 9, translated “brotherly love,” is familiar to many.  It’s the Greek word philadelphia—a word which would have been made the Thessalonians sit up and take notice. The church in Thessalonica was made up of two groups of people. The first group had grown up Jewish and then followed Jesus as their messiah.  The second group had grown up Greek pagans, then converted to Christianity. These were not people who would have chosen to engage with each other. They were different in almost every single way. Yet now those two groups were together in this uncommon little family; God had brought them together in Christ.

For those who had grown up in a Jewish background, that word philadelphia would have had a very, very specific meaning. In Jewish literature, philadelphia was used to describe one relationship and one relationship only, and that was the relationship between blood brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers. Philadelphia was the way one talked about family. Not a metaphorical family, but family, family. That was Philadelphia. And so, for Paul to apply that family, family word to the church, in that he was raising the bar, not just in terms of expectation, but in terms of reality. Paul was insisting that these Jews and Gentiles really were spiritual brothers and sisters.

For those who had grown up Greek, this would have been a different correction. They lived in a highly sexualized culture. Philadelphia was not eros. By using philadelphia, Paul insisted that the relationship between men and women in the church could not be reduced to sexual erotic love. Instead, the relationship is a real formative bond of brother and sister, an idea that would have been shocking to the Greeks. And so, with one word, Paul pushed back on the cultural narrative of both Jews and of the Greeks in order to make room for what the Bible says is true about all who follow Christ, that we are family.

In the heritage of the Reformation, one of the most beloved Christian doctrines is that of adoption, that in Christ, we have been adopted into God’s family. Adoption is a beautiful picture of the way that God, our Father, delights in us as his sons and daughters. But notice that doctrine of adoption has not only a vertical element—as we are reconciled to God—but also a horizontal element. Adoption means that Christians are brothers and sisters in a real, tangible sense. God has brought us together as an uncommon family.

This is the way that Paul talks to Timothy, a young pastor, in 1 Tim 5. Timothy, pastoring in Ephesus, was struggling with leadership and how to get people to talk to each other. In advising Timothy, Paul gives a very practical application of the fact that in Christ, we are this uncommon family joined together as brothers and sisters. Apparently, some of the older guys in the church were giving the young pastor a hard time. Paul instructs Timothy, “Do not rebuke an older man, but encourage him.” In other words, do not rebuke him in anger. He is your dad in the Lord. Talk to him like your father. Respect him like your father. Encourage him like a father. And then Paul goes on to say, “encourage…younger men as brothers.” The younger guys in the church who just think they have everything figured out, who are giving advice out of their own ignorance, love them like brothers.

Paul keeps going: “…older women as mothers, younger women as sisters in all purity.” Paul says the gospel creates something much more fundamental, than typical sexualized, romantic relationships. We are related, and we can relate to one another in all purity and honor because what the gospel says is true. Nor is the gospel reset just across the lines of gender; it also transforms how we relate across generations. We are an uncommon family, and therefore, we need to be engaged in the work of love.

Paul also says this work of love comes from an unlikely teacher, and I use the word unlikely because I expect Paul to continue his thought in verse 9 to say something like, “Don’t you remember those sermons I preached to you about love?” Instead, Paul basically makes up a word, something he does somewhat regularly. He cannot find a word in the language, so he makes one up. And he makes up a word that is translated as “you were taught by God.” Verse 9: “For you yourselves have been taught by God to love one another.” Paul creates a verb that literally means “to be God taught.”  We were “God taught” to love. This is how important it is to God that we as Christians love one another. That is how central love is to the Christian life.

Jesus himself said, “The world will know that you are my disciples when you show in every single case that you are right.” No. Jesus said, “They will know you are my disciples by your love, your love for one another.” That is to say, the world has permission to look at the church and judge whether or not the gospel is true based on how we love each other. And Paul says this lesson of love is not some lesson we have to stretch our minds remember; it is the Holy Spirit who continues to teach us this lesson of love.

Do we recognize how much this matters to God that we love one another? Or have we become casual? Or calloused? Have we invented exceptions to the rule of who qualifies for our love and who doesn’t? Well, let me ask this in a different way. If this is true, that the work of love is the primary assignment that the Christian is given, where is God pressing in on your heart to love? Maybe a person who is hard to love, maybe a person you’ve been given to love and if you’re honest, you’ve been selfish in that relationship, and you need to give yourself away in love.

How do we do that? In many ways, of course—many of them individually and interpersonal. Maybe there are practical ways that we need to love, so it is not simply a vague, squishy idea. For the Thessalonians, Paul says in verse 10, “you have been loving your brothers all throughout Macedonia.” While we do not know exactly how that was happening, but most likely, because Thessalonica was a port city, many people came through, and the best guess is that Paul is referencing the way that the Thessalonians opened their homes and shared meals with people who were at one time strangers, people they welcomed into their lives as brothers and sisters. Or maybe we should think about how we act intentionally toward those who live next door or down the street, how they might come into our homes and into our lives? The work of hospitality is a work of love.

Much of Paul’s list in verse 11 makes sense: “But we urge you, brothers, to do this more and more, and to aspire to live quietly, and to mind your own affairs…” Yet, notice the odd juxtaposition that comes next: “and to work with your hands.”

Included in love, then, Paul reminds us of the love of work. By love of work, I do not mean, “Do you love your job?” That’s not the question I am asking. The question I am asking, the one I think Paul is asking, is, “Is your work an expression of love?” Love toward God, love toward neighbor. Yet again, Paul has opposed our cultural expectations, just as he did with the Thessalonians. This is a very different way that our culture shapes us to think about our work. Our culture shapes us to think about our work as an expression of ourselves, as self-actualization, as a way of promoting ourselves, as a way of caring for ourselves, as a way of saying to others, this is what I am, and this is what I do. We are what we do.

And yet, historically, Christianity has understood work as an expression, as a demonstration of love toward God and love toward neighbor. Martin Luther, the great German reformer, talked much about vocation, and included work under that banner. One of his revolutionary ideas, an idea he recovered for the church, is the idea that all of work done as an act of worship to God and love to neighbors is good and dignified work. The measure of our work really ought to be the way in which our work seeks to love God and love others.

The example that is often given is that of Luther and the cobbler, a story that may or may not have happened in real life, but still a good story, and illustrative of Luther’s thought. The story goes like this: Luther is walking through the marketplace and he runs across a cobbler. And so, this cobbler sees the great theologian Luther coming down to his shop, and he stops him and says, “Pastor Luther, how should I serve God?” Now you can imagine the sorts of options this cobbler is expecting. Maybe Luther will say, “Sell everything and give it to the poor.” Maybe he will say, “Come to church more often. I haven’t seen you for a couple weeks.” Maybe he will say, “Go to seminary; become a pastor.” But instead, Luther says to him, “The way you serve God, mister cobbler, is to make good shoes and sell them at a fair price.” Make good shoes and sell them at a fair price.

Maybe not what he was expecting, maybe not what we are expecting. But Luther was only reflecting what Paul does in 1 Thessalonians. Paul is connecting the work of love with the love of work. Notice, Paul hardly takes a breath between talking about abounding in love more and more and working with your hands. They are on the same list! Because these two things are connected in his mind. To love is to do your work well unto God, and to love your neighbor as yourself.

Why does Paul say this here? It seems a small group of people in the Thessalonian church were failing to love through their work. Later in the letter, in 5:14, Paul gives an admonition, a warning to the idle. It comes up again in 2 Thessalonians where Paul has a lot more to say, as just among other things that he says to this group, anyone who is not willing to work, let him not eat.

So, the category of folks he has in mind here are not people who cannot work. It is not people who want to work but cannot because of the job market and because of their physical health. It is people who can work, but will not, people who could work, but choose not to. And what makes it even worse is they’re choosing not to, partly because the church is supporting them. So, this is not a criticism of those who are looking for a job, or between jobs, or those who have come to their church for financial support; that is part of what a church does.

None of that is what Paul is criticizing. He is criticizing those who come to the church just to take advantage of other people’s generosity, because they are unwilling to work. Those are the folks he has in mind. And again, there are theological reasons that this small group of people may be doing this, but Paul takes direct aim at them.

And notice his criticism. His criticism is not laziness. Laziness is not great, but that is not Paul’s primary criticism. His primary criticism is that they are failing to love. They are taking advantage in a selfish way of the generosity of others.

And then Paul contrasts this with work which demonstrates love for others. In verse 11, he gives three ways to think about work which demonstrates love. Do this more and more, he says, to aspire to live quietly, to mind your own affairs and to work with your hands as we instructed you. That first phrase is interesting: “to aspire to live a quiet life.”

I live and minister in an ambitious town. Our kindergarteners are not just in T-ball, they’re in advanced T-ball. Because she’s going pro, didn’t you know? Our students feel the pressure of being competitive from the very beginning. And why are we competitive from there? So we can get into the best schools, get into the best programs, get the best jobs, advance in our careers, so we can make a difference in the world.

Now, Paul is not criticizing ambition. Remember Luther. His answer was not, “Just make crummy shoes, and rip people off.” Make good shoes, sell them at a fair price. So ambition itself is not bad. Being promoted is not bad. Being in places of influence is not evil, and yet, Paul very much wants to get at the heart of what is behind our ambition. Is it love for self and self promotion and making comfortable lives for ourselves, or has the gospel so shaped our hearts that even our work is fueled by a love for God, who has given us the gifts he has given us, and a love for others?

Dorothy Sayers, the 20th century writer, in her essay Why Work notes this: the thought of working for the sake of making money is so ingrained in us that we can scarcely imagine what a revolutionary change it would be, psychologically and socially, to think otherwise. She says, in the modern view, people take a certain job in order to advance themselves financially and in society. And then she comments on this, noting that during World War II, one of the greatest surprises for many English men who had served in the army is that they found themselves, for the very first time in their lives, happy and satisfied. Why? For the first time in their lives, they found themselves doing something, not for the pay, but for the sake of getting something done for all.

And here we might back up one phrase and note “aspire to live quietly.” For Paul to say “aspire to live quietly, mind your own affairs, to work with your hands” dignifies all work, even and maybe especially work that is done in obscurity. For most of us, this is the work that we actually do. Work done in obscurity. You work for a company, and you tell people the company you work for. And people think to themselves, “Never heard of it.” You don’t get invited to career day at the kids’ school. And maybe you’ll do it for the next five years. Maybe you’ll do it for the next 25 years, maybe for the rest of your life.

And what Paul is saying is something, again, so counter cultural. He says that when we do our work faithfully, out of love for God, and out of service for neighbor, God is pleased with us. That even life, even work that feels very ordinary, is extraordinary surface in the hands of God. Work which demonstrates love demonstrates love for others.

A pastor and friend, Chuck Jacob, wrote an article years ago called, Did Jesus Waste Most of His Life? Provocative title. He is referring to the first 30 years of Jesus’ life. What did he do? Our Lord made good tables and sold them at a reasonable price. That’s what he did. Do you think Jesus made crummy chairs and ripped people off in Nazareth? No. He did his work well, and he did it in obscurity. Did he waste those years? No.

What did he do? He gave us a model of what it looks like to do work out of love for God and love for neighbor. And then even when he moved into public ministry, what is even maybe more remarkable to us and even more countercultural to us is this: when he was at his peak of popularity and fame, when people wanted to make him a king and give him power, he gave it all away for your sake and my sake. Because he was never about promoting himself, he was about loving us even to the point of death.

This is why Martin Luther began his little book on the freedom of a Christian with two remarkable sentences, two sentences that that really make no sense apart from the gospel. Sentence number one: “A Christian is Lord of all, completely free of everything.” We like that. Sentence number two: “A Christian is servant of all, completely attendant to the needs of everyone.” We don’t like that.

Because these things do not seem to fit together. In the cultural narrative, these things contradict. We want freedom without actually being bound in love, or we feel like being bound in love takes away our freedom. But in the gospel, when our hearts are shaped by the gospel that Jesus gave himself to us in love, the response is one that says, I am completely free of shame and guilt and even the opinion of others because I have the only opinion that matters. And so, I can give myself away in my work and in my relationships because I am bound by the love that Christ has shown me.

The work of love, the love of work—Jesus shapes our hearts with the good news of the gospel.