On the Holiness of Labor
A Sermon by Seminarian Paddy Cavanaugh on the Twenty-Third Sunday after Pentecost (C), November 13, 2022.
2 Thessalonians 3:6-13
There are many times when I am grateful that our tradition has a lectionary, which is our multiyear cycle of scripture readings that are prescribed for us each Sunday. Having a lectionary spares the preacher of having to select and thematically organize their own readings, as is the burden in certain other denominations. There are some occasions, however, when the lectionary causes the preacher great strife, and may lead them to envy these other denominations. This is one such Sunday for this preacher. Let’s review the good Word given to us this week.
From the prophet Malachi, we are reminded that “the day is coming, burning like an oven, when all the arrogant and all evildoers will be stubble” (Mal. 4:1). Now, this may be good or bad news for you, depending on your degree of confidence about your level of evildoing. Next we have Paul, who in his letter to the Thessalonians, takes the occasion to share with us that “anyone unwilling to work should not eat” (2 Thess. 3:10). This is also mixed news for those of us who have grown accustomed to eating, but are at times weary of working. And finally, in case we hoped that Jesus might throw us a lifeline; something uplifting and agreeable, instead he tells the disciples that the temple in Jerusalem will be destroyed, nation will rise against nation, and the land will be plagued by natural disaster, but before this the authorities will arrest you, persecute you, and put some of you to death.
Before we begin to look for the good news in this, please pray the Kyrie with me. Lord have mercy, Christ Have Mercy, Lord have mercy. Amen.
Now of all of these difficult words, there is one passage in particular that I’d like to focus on; one that I just can’t shake, and that is the words of Paul in his letter to the Thessalonians.
“Now we command you, beloved [says Paul], in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, to keep away from believers who are living in idleness… when we were with you we did not eat anyone's bread without paying for it… when we were with you, we gave you this command: Anyone unwilling to work should not eat. For we hear that some of you are living in idleness, mere busybodies, not doing any work. (2 Thess. 3:6-13).
Of all the readings this is the one that troubled me greatest, perhaps because in my previous life before seminary I was a social worker for the chronically homeless on the streets of Boston. In this work I encountered innumerable people, down on their luck, who would give anything to be able to work for a living. In fact, I’m willing to wager that contrary to the myth that we sometimes hear about people living well on welfare, every single one of my former clients would trade their shabby public housing and their paltry social security checks for the opportunity to earn a living in a community like ours, which for various reasons of mental illness, criminal background, or incurable addiction, they were unable to do. What does Paul have to say about them? Should their bellies go empty for their idleness? The bellies of those in our community who rely on our food pantry? What does Christ have to say? Well Christ is very clear. From turning water into wine at the wedding at Cana to multiple feedings of the multitudes with miraculous portions of fishes and loaves, it seems that at every turn in his ministry, Jesus is lavishly wining and dining those who did absolutely nothing to merit it. In fact, in the Gospel of Luke he makes his position abundantly clear, saying:
“When you give a luncheon or a dinner, do not invite your friends or your brothers and sisters or your relatives or rich neighbors, in case they may invite you in return, and you would be repaid. But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind. And you will be blessed because they cannot repay you, for you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous.” (Luke 14:12-14)
As difficult as it sounds, I have come to believe that Paul does not contradict Christ by advocating that we turn our backs on those in need, but is instead speaking to a much different issue, and that is the necessity, dignity, and even holiness of labor in the life of Christian community. But why?
Well, clearly some in the community at Thessalonica had, for various reasons, been slacking off on their duties. Some scholars suggest this was because they had taken the apocalyptic pronouncements of Jesus that we heard in the Gospel very seriously, and believed that the end of the world was upon them, so why work? Others suggest that they were simply suffering from the normal human malaise of laziness. In reality both are likely true. In either case, Paul is speaking to a community of believers who have been entrusted as inheritors of the kingdom of God and are now held to a different standard of life and labor together as they work towards the building of that kingdom as Christ’s hands and feet on earth. Moreover, this work is holy. It can even be sanctifying. We are made in the image of a creative God who labored so hard in the creation of the cosmos that he decided to to institute a day for rest and appreciation of this work that is right, good, and holy. Who has ever poured their effort into something so wholeheartedly that you could not help yourself but look upon the fruit of your labor and think: this is good. Maybe it was a hobby, maybe it was something you did at your school or job, maybe it was your child, and maybe it was simply doing whatever you had to do to make it through the day. This work that you have done is holy. This. This church, these windows, this organ, this altar, these children, this community, this worship, this work that you have done by the grace of God, St. George’s, is holy, and it is your prayer. It is your work in faithful response to the work that God has wrought for us in salvation.
This work is also your worship. Liturgy, from the Greek word leitourgia, literally means ‘work for the people,’ as in a public building project, like a road or park, given by the work of a benefactor for the good of the entire community. Christ, my friends, is God’s liturgy for us. Christ is God’s work for the people, work that liberated us from the bondage of sin and death. Our liturgy, then, is work in response to God’s redeeming work in Christ. Our liturgy is our labor of faith and good works, our sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving before God. Our work meets God’s work at this altar and it continues when you walk out those doors.
The Benedictine order of monks has a saying in Latin – laborare est orare; to work is to pray. Our work in the world is our prayer and our prayer is our work in the world. This is the holy work of God’s people and Paul knew that lest we put in the spiritual and physical effort to seek and work for God in community, we would not taste the fruits of the Spirit in our lives, and this is nourishment Paul could not bear to see us deprived of. Paul instructs us to work for God’s kingdom not because of some capitalist formula whereby our personal worth is determined by our productive output. We know that our worth is determined solely by our status as redeemed children of God, and there is nothing we can do on our own to elevate or diminish that worth. Rather, Paul calls us to a holy labor in community that, like prayer, sanctifies the world as much as it sanctifies those who undertake it. To work for the beauty of God’s kingdom is our vocation, our identity, and what molds the character of our lives into the character of Christ.
Our work of gathering week in and week out for prayer and worship also forms us through repetition, more and more into the image of Christ, so that when we go into the world as disciples, we might be icons of Christ to others. Conversely, when, for lack of imagination, we are unable to accept or make room for the labor, for the offerings, of people in our midst who seemingly have nothing to offer, then we deprive them of this formation, and deprive ourselves of the Christlike gifts which God is offering us through their very presence. Paul exhorts us to make room for all of the gifts and offerings of holy work and holy presence which each of us have been endowed with. The oft misunderstood Paul offers us this theology of labor which runs contrary to the utilitarian purpose of work we tend to hear in the world. So whether you are swinging a hammer, crunching numbers on spreadsheets, or kneeling before the Lord your God, be reminded that your work is your prayer. Let us pray.
O God, your unfailing providence sustains the world we live
in and the life we live: Watch over those, both night and day,
who work while others sleep, and grant that we may never
forget that our common life depends upon each other's toil;
through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. (BCP, 134).