Thrones in Sandcastles
What motivates us toward good works? Is it to please God? Is it to help others? Is it for a sense of self (or self-worth)?
Certainly the answer—if there is one—lies in a complex sharing of multiple origins. One day a sense of service to God empowers nobility. Each day reveals another motivation, and what begins one way can certainly change and become another…even shifting hues along the way.
We spend our days working toward achievements that will please God, please others, please ourselves—but is work to be the focus of life? The Westminster Shorter Catechism posits according to the traditional question/answer structure:
“Q: What is the chief end of man?
A: Man’s chief end is to glorify God, and to enjoy him for ever.”
One will need to re-read Watchman Nee‘s Sit, Walk, Stand (63 pages) to have a deeper sense of my beliefs on man’s responsibility to God, but it certainly flavors this discussion. Do the words, “Well done, good and faithful servant” only refer to our labors? Are they a payment of sorts? Are these words to be the zenith of our earthly lives and the answer to the human condition… or does our focus on this represent the sin of pride and our need to repay back something freely given? Jars of Clay writes a line in their famous song Worlds Apart, “Did you really have to die for me?” and I’ve always read into this my own frustration with the indebtedness I feel when confronted with the Gospel—because it leaves me feeling helpless, unable to add anything. Of course, this is the entire point. I am those things.
Perhaps this is a male trait, but I want to work for my food. There is pleasure in the earning, and a healthy esteem to be taken in doing a thing well. The concern here (at least for me) is to not allow work to be my focus. Doing and earning often replace resting and thanking, and these are evils against which I am continually struggling. “See what I have done…for you” (when said to God) can never replace, “Thank you for this gift.” And “Here God, let me help you with that…” is a cosmic slap in the face, I suspect. With dinner on the table, the command is “Eat!”, and we want to reassure the Host how we will repay the gift.
The Christian action is always one of response in recognition of the work that God has accomplished. “It is finished” has been cried from atop the cross, and must affect my motivations and actions even in this, today and now. God has already done so much. My awareness of this empties the power of my works to earn me anything from God. It doesn’t mean I should stop working; it means I can forever let go of needing my works to earn value or merit rewards. It turns my selfishly built ramparts into mere sandcastles on the beach left overnight. Efforts borne in thankfulness affect how and why I labor, and swing the focus away from me to a) what God has done for me, and b) others in need and areas wanting help. It pushes me listen better and to build where God directs, how He directs, and when He directs. It puts Him back on the throne of my life.
