Theology of Work: How and Why Our Work Matters to God

Whether you realize it or not, we all have a theology of work. You might think it’s something you’ve never thought about, and maybe you haven’t. But this theology influences many of the decisions we make and can affect the course of our lives, perhaps in ways we don’t even realize.

What is a theology of work?

At its simplest, a theology of work is our understanding of how and why our work matters to God. A theology of work undergirds the choices we make about what kind of work we do, why we do it, and how we do it. All of these things, of course, matter to God.

A theology of work undergirds the choices we make about what kind of work we do, why we do it, and how we do it.

They matter in ways that go far beyond which job we should take, what career we should pursue, or whether we think our salary indicates God’s blessings on our lives. It involves more than just what God doesn’t want us to do: He doesn’t want us to be lazy, he doesn’t want us to cheat our employer or customers, he doesn’t want us to do work that is immoral or illegal. Of course, these things are true.

But a robust theology of work offers so much more. It offers freedom to the believer—freedom to discover and use our gifts and talents, freedom to seek ways to serve our neighbors and glorify God through our work, and even freedom to be content when work is hard or unfulfilling and to rest in the assurance that God’s perfect economy uses it all. And when we consider what, why, and how God places work in our lives, we can better pursue the particular callings he invites us to in our particular circumstances.

What is work?

Often when we speak of work, we are thinking very narrowly of our jobs or occupations. For most of us, this context for work does occupy a considerable portion of life, so a theology of work will likewise do the same. But it is helpful to expand our ideas about work—and our theology of work—to include the many ways in which we work.

Work fills our days, whether that work is in the home, in the office, on the laptop, in the yard, on the field, in the factory, or in our relationships. We work in our jobs, but we also work at the things we do for sheer pleasure, like craft, paint, garden, or golf.

Sometimes work is pleasant. Sometimes it’s even fun. Often it is arduous and vexing. And for many people in various times, places, and circumstances, work can be extremely difficult and lack ample reward—especially the work that is necessary to make a living and provide for ourselves and our families, as the Bible tells us we must do in 1 Timothy 5:8. Indeed, many (perhaps most) jobs performed by the majority of people across the globe and throughout time are not easy or enjoyable.

Yet many of us in the modern world have been encouraged by our surrounding culture to assume that our occupations should fulfill our passions, spark joy, and affirm our sense of meaning and significance. I certainly want a job like that! And I’ve been blessed to have had such work for most of my life. However, I know that even work that doesn’t fit that description is also a gift of God—and a calling from him—because God created us to glorify him even in our work.

Why do we work?

Whether our work is pleasant, productive, or meaningful—or not—in the beginning when God created humans, he put us in the role of stewarding this world he created. Genesis 2:15 says, “God took the man and put him in the Garden of Eden to work it and take care of it.” Genesis 1:26 says that when God made humankind in his image, he did so with the purpose of giving humans dominion over the earth. God made us with work in mind. Work is good. God wanted us to be co-laborers with him in caring for his glorious creation.

God wanted us to be co-laborers with him in caring for his glorious creation.

Some of the meaning of work is simply this: To reflect the image of our Creator as we work and to honor him by fulfilling the role for which he created us.

Why is work difficult now?

Our work was made more difficult, however, by the curse that came as a result of Adam and Eve’s disobedience. After the fall, labor was accompanied by the impediments of thorns and pain.

To Adam he said, “Because you listened to your wife and ate fruit from the tree about which I commanded you, ‘You must not eat from it,’ cursed is the ground because of you; through painful toil you will eat food from 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.” (Gen 3:17–19)

This curse was a foreshadowing of the work Christ would do for us on the cross. On the cross, Christ bore pain and a crown of thorns (Mark 15:17). He bore our very curse (Gal 3:13). This was his work on our behalf: “For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many” (Mark 10:45). If the meaning of Christ’s work is the salvation and redemption of humanity, then the meaning of our work is, in part, to point to his ultimate work.

To what end do we work?

Work was a significant topic for the Protestant Reformers. The theology of work laid out by the Reformers, particularly Martin Luther, sought to eliminate an unbiblical distinction between “sacred” work and “secular” work, categories that counted work in the church or in monastic orders as a higher or holier calling than work in the world, such as that done in the home, the field, or the marketplace.

This thinking is often referred to as the doctrine of vocation. Vocation comes from a word that means “calling.” A calling is a role that someone invites us—or calls us—to fulfill. A theology of work understands that even though he uses human agents and circumstances to do it, God is ultimately the one who calls us to our labor.

The doctrine of vocation was the outgrowth of larger doctrinal questions. The understanding that spiritual and salvific work is fulfilled by Christ alone and not human works results in a different understanding of work itself. As one writer explains,

To Luther, the cobbler’s work was just as valuable as the priest’s precisely because justification was received by faith alone. A sinner did not come into union with Christ or earn his right standing with God on the basis of mystical contemplation or religious activity. Saving righteousness was received immediately—not as a process—by faith.

Work is not for our salvation but for our neighbor and ourselves. God could have chosen to provide for us himself without the help of human hands. He could have (as he once did!) ordained the world so that our daily sustenance came directly from him like manna from heaven (John 6:31). But instead, God chooses to meet human needs indirectly through human toil. God calls us to farm, plow, reap, bake, weave, knit, sew, clean, count, type, birth, and clothe ourselves and each other.

Does our ordinary work matter?

We don’t work to gain eternal life. But we do need to work to maintain ourselves in this life.

My grandfather worked literally to put a roof over his family’s head (he built their home by hand) and to put food on the table (he and my grandmother raised their own vegetables and meat). There was little money given or received in my grandparents’ subsistence-level farm life.

Today, most of us don’t build our homes ourselves (although someone builds them) or produce the food we eat (although many workers are required to do that). Most of us work to pay for those necessary resources (and hopefully, perhaps, some unnecessary ones). This is the primary reason we work: simply to live.

This understanding of work leads to “a theology of ordinary life,” according to Gene Edward Veith in God at Work. Veith explains,

Christians do not have to be called to the mission field or the ministry or the work of evangelism to serve God, though many are; nor does the Christian life necessarily involve some kind of constant mystical experience. Rather, the Christian life is to be lived in vocation, in the seemingly ordinary walks of life that take up nearly all of the hours of our day. The Christian life is to be lived out in our family, our work, our community, and our church. Such things seem mundane, but this is because of our blindness. Actually, God is present in them—and in us—in a mighty, hidden, way.

Not only do Christians not need to work in the mission field, ministry, or the church (although such is good, noble work) in order to fulfill godly callings, but we also don’t need to do glamorous, exciting, dramatic work (although that can be God-honoring, as well). Indeed, 1 Thessalonians 4:11–12 encourages believers 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.”

We work not only to provide for ourselves but also to be able to bless others. Paul instructs the Ephesians to work so that “they may have something to share with those in need” (Eph 4:28). Ordinary, everyday roles—such as those filled by mothers, fathers, clerks, cashiers, truck drivers, teachers, laborers, and accountants—are roles that can fulfill the purpose of all work: to steward God’s creation, serve our neighbors, and glorify God. As Matthew 5:16, says, “In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven.”

How should we work?

Certainly, not only the work we do matters to God, but the way we do it matters, too. As Ecclesiastes 9:10 exhorts, “Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with all your might.” Similarly, Colossians 3:23 says, “Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord” (ESV). And certainly, God wants our work to be honest and conform to standards of justice. As Proverbs 13:11 says, “Wealth obtained by fraud will dwindle, but whoever earns it through labor will multiply it” (CSB).

Admonitions such as these might seem easier to apply within the context of the ancient world, when people had far fewer options and distractions. A man who farmed, fished, or made tents went home at the end of a long day to eat and rest before returning to his labor the following day. A woman such as the one described in Proverbs 31 might have surveyed real estate, planted a vineyard, and spun cloth that she made into garments, cared for her children and the needy—then risen early to do it all again. Most people in the world of the Bible didn’t have the countless array of career choices many of us take for granted today. Nor did they have as much leisure time and as many endless options to fill it. Yet all the Proverbs (and a good number of Jesus’s parables) that caution against slothful and unwise ways are evidence of the fact that working hard and stewarding our time and talents well is a challenge for all people in every time and place.

What work are we called to?

But which work should we do? How do we know what God is calling us to do? For modern Christians living in in the modern world with its endless possibilities, this is the area in which a theology of work is most needed and can be most helpful.

Our culture today has lots of things to say about work: Your work should fulfill a passion. It should change the world. You should get paid to do what you love. If you do what you love, you will never work a day in your life.

If these things are true for you in your life, good for you! But how realistic are these as expectations for the believer who is called to honor God in every area of life?

A sound theology of work recognizes that God places multiple callings on our life.

A sound theology of work recognizes that God places multiple callings on our life. With each calling comes the responsibility to steward that role well. God calls us to places in families: mother, father, child, sibling, spouse. God calls us to places in communities, too: the church body, our geographical region, and our other communities—and we will have work to do among these people. We have roles as citizens and friends. And then, of course, we have the work to do that we associate with provision or preparation for provision: education, apprenticeship, being an employee and someday perhaps an employer. Each of these roles requires a certain amount of time and attention which will vary and change over a lifetime. Each of these roles—some of which will exist simultaneously or overlap to some degree throughout our lives—must be fulfilled well, each in balance with the others, each in ways that honor the Lord and serve our neighbors.

And this brings us back to insights the Reformers brought to their theology of work. When the word “vocation” was used strictly to refer to those who were called to “vocational ministry” (or full-time church work), it carried the idea that “vocation” was a singular, all-encompassing calling for one’s entire life, and that one either has a vocation or one does not. But a more biblical theology of work recognizes that we have multiple vocations over the course of our lives.

When the Lord called me to himself, I became a Christian. When my husband asked me to marry him, that was an invitation to take on the role of being his wife. (I said yes! And when I did, he answered the call to be my husband.) When I accepted a position to teach at a university years ago, I began a decades-long calling as a professor.

How do we discern these vocations?

Not every invitation or opportunity constitutes a calling or vocation, of course. That’s where discernment can get tricky and where wisdom is needed. Sometimes we take a certain job for a season because it fills a current need in our life. Or we accept an invitation to join a short-term committee assignment. We might help a sick neighbor with lawn care not because we have a green thumb, but because there is no one else to do it. These are all things we do as needed and do as unto the Lord—but they don’t necessarily constitute our vocation.

God’s sovereignty has placed each of us within a certain time, place, and circumstance (in this century, for example, in this family, and on this continent). Some circumstances can be changed—we might move from one country to another, for example, but we can’t change the time or family into which we were born. God’s sovereignty has also provided each of us with particular gifts, even particular personalities and passions. While none of these individual details about our lives is all-determining, they can guide you into an understanding of how the way God created you uniquely might help you better discern a vocational call.

To hear a vocational call requires attentiveness, discernment, and sometimes even a good dose of hindsight. Some of us are blessed to have particular gifts and a passion that matches—and find early in our lives an avenue where all those can be used. But for many of us, it’s not so easy.

I spent my childhood years determined (for some reason) that I would never be a teacher. But when I started my PhD studies and was invited to teach my first college class, I discovered that I was created to teach. Even outside the classroom, through writing and speaking, I know I am answering a calling from God to teach others. I discovered that call relatively early in life, but I can think of numerous people who did not understand their role was in fact their calling until many years later when they were looking back.

How can we reflect God in our work?

Understanding God’s nature and character also contributes to a biblical understanding of work. Since we bear God’s image and are made to imitate him (Gen 1:26–27), we can consider all the ways he works in order to see what our work might look like. In his book, Faith Goes to Work, Robert Banks identifies the various categories of God’s work as including:

• Redemptive work
• Creative work
• Providential work
• Justice work
• Compassionate work
• Revelatory work

Our work can look like God’s work, Banks writes, in doing any of these things (and more): pointing others to him, creating, providing, advancing justice, offering help and care, revealing truth.

Conclusion

A theological understanding of work helps us to see that God has much work for us to do, in and out of our various callings, with or without pay, with or without grandiose applause and acclaim, but always in recognition that God made us to steward his creation through our work (Ps 8:5–8). We steward well when we glorify him (1 Cor 10:31) and serve our neighbors by doing good work well (Matt 22:39), employing as best we can the gifts and talents he has given us.

Whether our work is easy or difficult, fulfilling or frustrating, we can find contentment and even joy in recognizing that he establishes that work (Prov 16:3; Ps 90:17). And we can take delight in our work—once again, in imitation of God who took delight in his own work (Gen 2:2–3): “Here is what I have seen to be good and fitting: to eat, to drink and enjoy oneself in all one’s labor in which he toils under the sun during the few years of his life which God has given him; for this is his reward” (Eccl 5:18).

Recommended resources from Karen Swallow Prior

• Karen Swallow Prior: You Have a Calling: Finding Your Vocation in the True, Good, and Beautiful (Brazos, 2025).
• Gene Edward Veith, God at Work: Your Christian Vocation in All of Life (Crossway, 2011).
• Garry Friesen and Robin Maxon, Decision Making and the Will of God: A Biblical Alternative to the Traditional View (Multnomah, 2004).

Related articles

• J. I. Packer on Calling: ‘We Glorify God by Doing Honest Work’
• Abraham Kuyper’s Theology of Everyday Life
• Biblical Productivity: What Does the Bible Say about Work?