The good of work

One of my earliest childhood memories is of my father putting on work clothes in the wee hours of the morning, preparing to brave another long, cold day on the construction site. As a kid, I resolved never to have “that kind of job.” But as an adult, I respect it more than ever.

My father worked construction his entire adult life. It is how he provided for our family. But he often saw his work as inferior to other professions. He chalked up carpentry—almost embarrassed—as something he had to do because he did not go to college or “learn other things.” This ignored his vast set of skills, his aptitude with numbers, and the many people he helped with needs in their homes.

How did he arrive at such a low view of his labors? He—and many others like him—have absorbed an unbiblical view of work. In a world increasingly shaped by automation, AI advancements, and undervalued labor, we have forgotten that work is a sacred calling. All honest work and creative enterprise glorifies God by displaying truth, beauty, and goodness. Not just ministry. Pastors and churches must recover and teach a biblical vision of work.

The subject of work enters the biblical storyline early in Genesis. In Genesis 2:15, we read, “The LORD God took the man and put him in the garden of Eden to work it and keep it.” This is before sin entered the world. Work was not a curse. God assigned work to the man. Adam was to cultivate the garden so that it yielded fruit.

David Bahnsen argues that work is more than something God tells humans to do—it is intrinsic to who we are. As image-bearers of God, we are workers. Work is not only good—it is good for us. It gives us dignity, satisfies deep longings in our hearts, and provides us the means to fulfill other callings like marriage, parenthood, loving our neighbor, and supporting the work of the gospel.

The Apostle Paul condemned idleness, warning believers ought not to be allowed to eat if they do not work (2 Thessalonians 3:10-12). Proverbs repeatedly stresses working with diligence (12:24), taking action over mere talk (14:23), avoiding laziness (20:4), the reward of labor (12:11), and more.

The Protestant Reformation recovered a biblical theology of work by challenging the medieval belief that only religious vocations truly mattered. Luther and Calvin taught that all work—whether in the church or the field—had value to God. This encouraged believers to pursue their vocations with diligence and integrity, working with excellence as unto the Lord (Colossians 3:23). This became known as the Protestant work ethic.

But sometime in the late 19th century, continuing today, a subtle Gnosticism crept into Christian thinking. It divided life between the secular and the spiritual, ministry work and non-ministry work. The sacred and spiritual were deemed good, and the secular and non-ministry work were treated as necessary, but less noble.

Meanwhile, broader cultural ideas of work further complicate things. Americans have a growing disdain for manual labor and lower-paying hourly jobs. Consider current policy debates.: Some argue against deporting illegal aliens by asking, “who will pick our crops or build our homes?”—as if Americans would stoop to such work. Others critique tariffs and bringing back American manufacturing because “nobody wants factory jobs,” as if everyone should simply learn to create, code, or consult. The AI revolution amplifies the problem further. Bill Gates thinks “humans won’t be needed for most things.” Some wonder if we will even need to work at all.

How should Christians respond? We must teach the biblical mandate and goodness of work. Pastors must help congregants see God’s pleasure in their labors. He is glorified not only in Bible study and worship gatherings, but in planting gardens, tending cattle, starting schools, writing music, creating technology, inventing products, making scientific discoveries, exploring planets, leading families and raising children, starting restaurants, creating banks, reporting news, establishing governments, writing stories, and yes—cutting hair and swinging hammers.

The Christian barber needs to see his work rightly. Yes, cutting hair pays his bills and supports his family. But he also serves every person who sits in his chair. He can encourage, listen, and dispense wisdom, all while building friendships. By giving great haircuts and caring for his customers, he loves his neighbor and glorifies God. He gives people a barbershop experience they want to return to. His work matters.

We need to show people like my father that they did more than just provide for their families—they modeled godliness. They ordered society. They built beauty. They gave others a place to call home. That is nothing to be embarrassed about.