Our work can be our mission
Twila gave herself completely to her vocation as a teacher. She loved her work, her students and the deep-rooted feeling that teaching in a public school was exactly what God had called her to do. Well before she’d ever heard the word “missional” uttered on the lips of a preacher, she had joined God in mission at Valley Oaks Elementary in Houston.
This was her expression of faith and creative way of seeking the peace of our city. And she was good at it, too, for decades. She not only taught with excellence but cared for co-workers, was known for her nonanxious presence and prayed daily for her students.

This story helps us think about the way we think. For most of us, the teacher in this story has us pegged for what we are: compartmentalized thinkers.
For hundreds of years, the way we think about the work of Christ and the church has gone something like this: Special people do special things for God, and everybody else supports it financially. We call and ordain pastors to be these special people who do special things when they live at home, and we send and commission missionaries for the same work that happens to be “over there.” For the rest of us, “being Christian” and connecting to God’s story happens primarily through tithing and volunteerism.
Kristi was one of the many “special ones” in our congregation who had said yes to overseas missions. From early in college she was passionate about missions, and after several doors closed for her in other countries she embraced mission work in China. Her time in China was formative for her faith and worldview, changing her forever. But a curious thing happened while there: She realized she was called to a different mission field.
Her true mission field was the corporate world, in particular to live as a missionary at Exxon Mobile in Houston. She is now a missionary at Shell, giving the best of her life and energies where she works rather than by volunteering. She is one of our core leaders at Houston Mennonite, and we’re aware that in previous generations her new mission field, like Twila’s, would not have “counted.” We think that needs to change.
In his book Public Jesus, Tim Suttle says that we may spend up to 65 percent of our time at work. Yet, as the story illustrates, in the old model of being a Christian, this doesn’t count. The worth of “normal Christians” comes in their capacity to support financially the “special Christian” and in the amount and quality of time they can shave off their busy schedules to volunteer.
Work is something I do over there to allow me to participate with God over here. The “ethical version” of such a mental model is an invitation to do your job purely (after all, work is a necessary evil, isn’t it?): not gossip, keep your books right, not cheat, maybe start a Bible study.
Compartmentalized thinking assumes there is a place that God acts and a place God seemingly doesn’t. But how can we faithfully follow Christ in all of life if our mental model suggests that what matters happens only in my limited “Christian” time, such as going to church and volunteering? Such compartmentalizing of our lives is incompatible with Anabaptism, which insists we are to follow Jesus in all areas of life. Daily discipleship to Jesus is a call for all Christians in all areas of life, not just an elite few who perform special tasks.
Let’s look closer at the 65 percent of our time we spend at work. Work is not a necessary evil, drain on your time or boost to your bottom line. It connects you intimately with God’s work and mission in our world. It’s an invitation for you to catalyze your best energies of heart, mind and strength to seek shalom in our cities and the common good of neighbor and enemy alike.
In describing Mennonite faith and practice in his book Beliefs, John D. Roth says: “Mennonites believe that hard work—the disciplined skill of the artisan and professional, the creative expressions of poets and musicians and artists, the routine tasks of parent and farmer—is a reflection of God’s original act of creation. Work that is honest and constructive, that heals and reconciles, that makes the world more beautiful—all such work celebrates the goodness of God.”
Through both the form and the function of our jobs, we can glorify God. Formally, we can be Christian in our workplace by insistence on paying a living wage, practicing caregiving to co-workers, exercising concern for the environment or allowing our word to stand for itself.
Functionally, we can connect faith and work through the specific type of work we choose to do. We as a congregation build, engineer, teach, heal, nurture, organize and engage in work that genuinely furthers the common good. This work in and of itself should be brought under the lordship of Christ and given the appreciation it deserves. And when people like Twila and Kristi are doing just that, it should be the church that supports them in their mission, more than demanding them to support the church’s through volunteerism.
Your work matters. It doesn’t matter because it allows you to tithe or is flexible enough to permit you to volunteer. No, it matters, business matters, production matters, employment matters. It matters because it is part of God’s healing plan for our world. It’s a powerful way to participate in the reign of God with the 65 percent of your time too often ignored when we compartmentalize.
Do you see how big the gospel is? It completely obliterates the notion of “secular” and integrates work into our faith. As Paul says, “Whatever you do, in word and work, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus.” God is creating a beautiful new world right in our midst and invites us to join in through the work that we choose to perform. Thus Suttle says, “Our jobs, our work will have meaning for us only when it finds its proper place in God’s good creation.” Is your work part of the reign of Christ? Or is it dedicated to something other than Jesus?
Psalm 139 helps us answer those questions by moving us past the demand to incorporate God into all areas of life and into the promise of God’s presence in every area of our lives. A missional retelling might go something like this for my congregation:
Where can I go from your Spirit? Or where can I flee from your presence? If I ascend to NASA, you are there. If I spend all day engineering ditches, you are there. If I make my income in business or the corporate world, you are there. If I spend all day with patients, energetic students, clients or family, you are there. In all our workplaces your hand shall lead me, and your right hand shall hold me fast in pursuit of the common good.
Most Christian business people today have heard few sermons in their lives directed at their work. Sermon applications that target family, marriage, church or spiritual life are prevalent. But few have heard that Christianity calls us to move beyond volunteerism to vocation. If as a church we continue to embrace a missional identity, that must unequivocally change. I pray you have or find that meaning in your work. And I pray for wisdom in empowering you for your ministry there.
Marty Troyer is pastor of Houston Mennonite Church.

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