William Taylor. Revolutionary Work – What’s the Point of the 9 to 5?
Leyland: 10Publishing, 2016.
‘We do not need to be enslaved by our work or totally
depressed by it. As we put our work in its rightful, God-given place, we will
find real joy and lasting purpose as we work for God.’
So writes British clergyman William Taylor in his recent
book Revolutionary Work – What’s the Point of the 9 to 5? Developed from four sermons preached at St Helen’s
Bishopsgate, London in January 2016, Taylor promises that a biblical account of
work is liberating, exhilarating, and refreshingly realistic. At 119 pages, including
three appendices and a FAQ section, Revolutionary Work is a relatively
brisk overview of the Bible’s teaching regarding work. This may be the books
greatest strength and weakness; amidst the sudden growth in books produced on
faith and work, Revolutionary Work is accessible and quick to read.
Anyone who has the time and compulsion would able to read this book in an
afternoon (and also download the original talks). However, in not being an
exhaustive piece of writing, there are many theological and biblical concepts and
ideas which are neither explored nor considered, or either assumed or dismissed
out of hand. For instance, the lack of a definition of work is a striking omission
from the book. Whilst Revolutionary Work helpfully interrogates several
trends at play in work today, and offers sage advice for church ministers on
how to care for their parishioners who work far outside their parish bounds, the
problem with Revolutionary Work lies in what it doesn’t say.
Overview
Taylor begins by asking ‘What is the Point of Work?’ Chapter
one offers three answers to this question. Firstly, as originally given in
creation, work was good and dignified, for God himself is a worker. There is
thus no place for a type of snobbery which regards some types of work as more
dignified than others. Secondly, this original goodness of work is matched by a
responsibility to work in the world in a manner which is accountable, caring
for what God has entrusted to us. This responsibility is both a vertical
responsibility between us and God, and a horizontal responsibility between us
and others. This latter point remains largely undeveloped in
Revolutionary
Work beyond an encouragement towards generosity. Taylor also flags that
this responsibility has been fundamentally altered by sins entry into the
world. Thirdly, work is necessary to provide for ourselves and others – to ‘feed
our faces’. In making these three points, Taylor also pushes back:
- on the view that there is a
specific, personal, vocation for each person to find; and
- on the view that work exists
to help us find personal fulfillment in life. Such a view is, in the words of
New York Times columnist David Brooks, ‘completely garbage advice’.
Chapter two sets the scene for why we will never fulfil our
potential in work by asking ‘What is the matter with work?’ Following Genesis 3–4,
although given to us a good, work is now grim, and will
always be grim.
Work is ‘frustrating, painful, and ultimately futile’
;
our place of work has been cursed by God, and the work of our hands will not
last. Alongside the goodness of work is much damage wrecked through our
cultural and technological advancements. Accordingly, Taylor rejects the
existence of a cultural mandate; sin has radically altered our place in the
world. Taylor points to God’s commissioning of Noah in Genesis 9 and the
conclusion reached by Kevin DeYoung and Greg Gilbert to argue that the
commission of Genesis 1.27–30 is now beyond us, and humans exercise a frightful
dominion over the creatures of the world. Therefore, we must be prepared to
work, but approach work without any sentimental notion of finding satisfaction or
fulfilment in what we do.
Given that the picture painted by Taylor is quite grim, chapter
three asks ‘Is there any hope for work?’ Taylor’s answer is that whilst work
may look very much the same, the Christian will be governed by the gospel in
their work. The gospel offers us a new boss, a new goal, and a new reward. We ultimately
work for Jesus in our work, which enables us to work hard, and adorn the gospel
in the way that we work (being kind, considerate, etc.), because we are seeking
to serve Jesus. When we grasp this, Taylor argues that this will enable us to
fix our eyes on Jesus, even when we are manipulated or bullied in the
workplace, and therefore seek to please God in our work.
Taylor then asks ‘What now matters at work?’, and answers by
pointing to our identity and attitude we hold as we go about our work. Taylor
follows this up with a second question ‘What will last at work?’, and warns
against firstly throwing ourselves into careerism, and secondly investing too
much into the creation and the works of our hands in the hope that our work
will last into eternity. Taylor argues that a tangible and specific connection
between creation and new creation cannot be drawn; all that will last into the
new creation are redeemed people and their godly characters. This section contains
a brief interaction with Tim Keller’s use of Tolkien’s story
Leaf by Niggle in
Every Good Endeavour, including the reproduction of email correspondence
with Keller on this issue. The reproduced section of Keller’s answer indicates
that Keller does not draw the specific and tangible connection between creation
and new creation that Taylor warns against. Taylor concludes this section with
some brief reference to passages such as Revelation 21, 2 Peter 3, and Matthew
24 to warn against investing in work which is ultimately futile and frustrated.
The fourth and final chapter looks at John 4 to ask ‘What is
the work of God’. In the original sermons from January 2016, Taylor considered
this section as a continuation to ‘What now matters at work?’ question, a 3.b
if you will. Taylor’s intention is ‘I do not want any of us to spend our whole lives
labouring at something that ultimately is pure vanity.’
God’s work is to gather his harvest, and his will is that we are involved in
the harvesting, using Jesus’ words to advance the gospel and establish new
believers. For Taylor pursing this line of work is evidently possible in the
banks and law firms of the City of London. This is what we are to do in our
workplaces – to advance the work of God through reaping the harvest whilst also
living godly lives in our occupations. Yet for some of us, our specific gifting
in Bible teaching will lead us to leave aside the work of ‘selling sugared
water’, and engage in God’s life transforming work. God’s harvesting is the
priority of our lives in work, for this is the only type of work which will
last.
Assessment
The reader of Revolutionary Work will find a call to
action for Christians to grow up in their work; to neither underestimate the
impact of sin on their work nor to lose sight of the opportunity work provides
to live for and speak of Christ. Taylor helpfully seeks to uphold the original
dignity and goodness of work, and resist the sentimentality ascribed to work’s
potential to fulfil our dreams and desires. There is no room for Christians to
hold bourgeois attitudes which elevate more creative or conceptual types of
work above manual labour or service orientated work. Nor can Christians fool
themselves with the message that their work will change the world. As James
Hunter Davidson has argued elsewhere, whilst possible, cultural change is
exceedingly hard, and exquisitely rare. The persuasiveness of that message is
evident to me every day on campus where I walk past large posters proclaiming
to university students their potential to shape and change the world. Taylor’s
call for an attitude to work orientated by the gospel provides a realism to our
work and the world which may well guard our hearts and minds from this
pervasive cultural stream.
Perhaps the thing I appreciated most about Revolutionary
Work was the third appendix: ‘How Can Churches be Revolutionary About Work?’I
have no doubt that this appendix flows from the distilled wisdom of Taylor's
many years at St Helen’s and the unique opportunity that church finds itself in
by being located in the centre of the City of London. This appendix is a must
read for people in ministry to consider how they can support and minister to
their congregants who work in a place different to where they live. The
possibility that churches would seek to encourage and effectively send people
to work and minister in their own workplaces might be truly revolutionary, and
potentially reap a great dividend for the cause of Christ.
There are a few small things throughout the book that grated
against me. In a few places in the book and the original talks Taylor compares
working in a law firm or a bank to slavery. Undoubtedly working in a City of
London bank or law firm is rigorous and entails great expectations. However,
such comments seem to be unduly naive; not only are there an increasing number
of people enthralled around the world, but making such statement is either
exceedingly foolish or grossly unaware of history. The prosperity of the London’s
financial centre can be traced to Britain’s colonialism and involvement in the
slave trade.
In addition, Revolutionary Work can’t help but come
across as being written for urban professionals. Taylor admirably tries to
resist this at several points, not least of all through his rejection of
vocational snobbery. But the focus is largely on paid work, and a definition of
work within the book would have increased its usefulness for people whose work
is unpaid.
However, Revolutionary Work is far too brief a
treatment of work, which lacks theological rigour. Because of these weaknesses,
Revolutionary Work is regrettably a flawed book. This comes through
typically not so much in what it says, but in what it fails to say. Often this
comes from a surprising lack of theological reflection, coupled with an
exegesis of passages that is sometimes sloppy, and other times inattention to
where they fit into overall scheme of Scripture. The brief mention of 2 Peter
3.10 in chapter 3 is a case in point of the former, where Taylor follows the relatively
novel but ultimately exegetically unsatisfactory interpretation that Peter has
in view the dissolution of the cosmos. Taylor’s handling of the cultural
mandate in Genesis 1 and 9 is a case in point of the latter. Yes, the Noahic
mandate appears to be different to the Adamic mandate. Yes, for all of our
cultural and technological sophistication, humanity has a great propensity to
find more sophisticated ways to harm and kill each other. But just as Taylor
complains that we need to read beyond Genesis 1–2 to understand work, so do we
need to read beyond Genesis 9 to understand the place of the cultural mandate
in Scripture. Whereas Revolutionary Work argues that the cultural
mandate was so fundamentally altered by sin to essentially no longer exist, one
cannot help but be struck by the echoes of Genesis 1.28 in God’s commission to
Israel, such as in Numbers 32.22 and Joshua 18.1. Likewise the technological
development pioneered by the line of Cain is taken up by God in the
Spirit-endowed craftsmanship of the Tabernacle by Bezalel in Exodus 31–38.
Ultimately this is an under-developed conception of the
nature of redemption. Taylor is
undoubtedly right to highlight the ongoing affect of sin on our work and
agency. The mandate given to Adam is no longer achievable by him. However, the depiction
of redemption in the New and Old Testaments (i.e. Isaiah 65–66,
Colossians 1, etc.), and reflected upon by the Fathers and Reformers, considers
redemption to be not only the undoing of the curse, but the enabling of God’s creation projection to be put back on track and ultimately reach the
purpose for which it had been originally made. In Adam, this is no longer
possible. But now in Christ, and through the power of the Spirit, God will perfect his creation. Unsurprisingly, this was prefigured in the early depictions of Solomon’s
reign in 1 Kings 4, who appears as a second Adam enjoying the garden and naming
the animals. The cultural mandate will be achieved in and through great King
David’s greater Son.
Noticeable absent from Revolutionary Work is a
definition of work. Whilst such a definition is notoriously difficult, the
absence of such a definition skewers the trajectory of the book. This again
reflects a lack of theological development. Firstly, Revolutionary Work
exposes itself to the charge of reducing the doctrine of creation to merely
Genesis 1–2. However, marriage, society, and government are all parts of the
created order which gain further elucidation throughout the Scriptures. As to
does the doctrine of providence, God’s sustaining of the world, which is
rightly belongs to a consideration of creation. That God not only made but
continues to sustain his creation, and in fact holds it together in Christ, is
an indication that participating in the creation order is not antithetical to
God’s will. Moreover, it suggests that there is such a thing as common grace,
and that therefore there are good reasons to work in God’s world besides
evangelistic opportunities. The Christian who works for the government may do
so both for the opportunities it provides to reach out to people, but also with
an awareness of passages such as 1 Timothy 2 and Romans 13 that God uses
governments to order his world and provide for peaceful society’s to exist. In
fact, the functioning of good government which maintains justice seems, at
least in Paul’s mind, to facilitate the flourishing of Christian ministry and
mission.
Secondly, there is a coherence between creation and new
creation which Revolutionary Work pays scant attention to. Whereas
Taylor resists drawing a connection between this creation and the world to
come, classical theologians have held to a nexus between protology and
eschatology. Where this would have aided Revolutionary Work would have been
in the articulation not only of the generic usefulness of work such as ‘feeding
your face’, but the telic purposes of work. I take it (following Andrew Cameron) that there are three
purposes to work: to exercise dominion over the natural work, to contribute to
the flourishing and good ordering of society, and to participate in the ‘work
of God’. These three ends are present, sometimes in embryonic form, in the
creation account. Throughout Israel’s history, and within the New Testament,
the three purposes of work are evident and good. Reformed theology resisted a
sacred/secular divide of vocations by insisting that all people are called to participate
in all three ends of work. By holding the three ends together, the reformers
were able to resist a facile prioritization of work based upon what will last
or not. I take it that marriage, which is under the Genesis 3 curse much like work, and won’t
last beyond death, is still a good thing to engage in. I doubt that we would characterize
marriage (or, for that matter, child-rearing) in itself as futile and grim.
The inclusion of the teleology of work would have significantly
altered the tone of Revolutionary Work. Taylor argues in the opening
chapter that work, as originally given, was good and dignified, entailing
responsibilities towards our fellow image bearers. However, one is left with
the overwhelming sense that work is more futile than good, and will only ever
be grim. Our work in a world groaning for its redemption will always be
frustrated by the ravages of time, sin, and death. However, there are good
reasons to do work in and of itself, not least of all for the opportunities it
provides to love others. The teacher is able to invest in her work, seeking
professional development and a high level of care for her students because she
serves Jesus and out of a love for her students to grow in their knowledge of
the world. The sewage worker or garbage collector’s work is an act of love for
the society who is only able to flourish and stay healthy because of their
work. Work is a means for loving a lot of people in a few specific ways. Work
as an opportunity to love offers an approach to work which goes beyond ‘work is
grim, so just grin and bear it’.
Taylor’s discussion of the Christological impact on our work
in chapter 3 might therefore be considerably expanded. Beyond a brief
discussion at the beginning of the third chapter concerning the nature of the
gospel via Ephesians 1.9–10, Revolutionary Work largely assumes the
gospel. The inclusion of the gospel in Revolutionary Work would have
provided a context for the consideration of how Jesus changes our work. Whereas
in Isaiah 2 the work of our hands is directed towards idolatry, in 1
Thessalonians 4.9–11 the work of our hands are directed towards love of our
neighbour. Indeed, according to Ephesians 2 and Titus 3, we have been saved by
Jesus in order to do good work. Not only do we have a new master in our work,
and a new opportunity to display the virtues of the age to come, but a new
reason to work well in our work, contributing to a world which is lost and
without hope. This was Augustine of Hippo’s conclusion in City of God,
that the citizens of the heavenly city are able in Christ to appropriate and
superimpose a new meaning on their work, participating in God’s providential
sustaining of the world. Such participation is only ever partial – there is no
sense in which we send the rain and the sun on the world. But in God’s
kindness, participate we do, embodying in our speech, behaviour, and very lives
the virtues and characteristics of the life of the world to come when God makes
all things new.
Finally, Revolutionary Work’s refusal to endorse the ‘reach
your full potential in your work’ narrative is a much welcomed corrective to a
prevailing cultural norm. The responsibility of those who would enter into the realm
of faith and work is not only resist this narrative, but supply our churches
with an alternative narrative. The fact remains that the work place is a significant
area of people’s discipleship and formation. We need to expect and encourage
people that their work is a place for bearing fruit for Jesus. That will
absolutely include our gracious witness. But bearing fruit in the New Testament
is so much more for that, as the gospel of faith leads to love as we submit
every aspect of our lives under the all encompassing Lordship of Jesus Christ.
I appreciate much of what Taylor has attempted to do in Revolutionary
Work. This is a book which argues that being a Christian makes a difference to how you work. But it doesn't quite manage to fully spell out what that means. It turns out that 119 pages (81 not counting the appendices, FAQ,
and references) is far too brief to fulfil the job required. Instead of revolutionary,
the result is the same old quietist approach to work which leaves the nine-to-five largely disengaged from the scope of the Christian life.
