Fallen and Redeemed Work

By Alex Florez

“Thorns and thistles, bro. Thorns and thistles.” My bandmates and I used this phrase from Genesis 3 often during our time on the road. As a touring rock band, unexpected nonsense was constantly on the verge of popping off. Flat tires, broken instrument cables, shady club owners, idiots in the crowd, and lots of other things not fit for print. Whenever something went wrong, we learned to smile, shake our heads, and remind each other, “Thorns and thistles.”

We concluded in those exasperating situations that we weren’t necessarily doing anything wrong. There was no impersonal karmic balance in the universe hanging on the goodness or not-so-goodness of our actions, nor was God keeping score to determine whether to smile upon us or smite us into oblivion. We were simply learning what every working person from Adam right on down the line has to learn eventually: Work is hard. Sometimes, in fact, it can sting, cut, and bruise.

It was tempting then and even now in my mid-40s to think that life is supposed to be soft and easy, especially as followers of a good and loving Savior. Sometimes we subscribe to the myth that if we’re not sitting poolside with a drink in our hands and the sun gently warming our skin that something’s wrong. It seems we’re slipping into a world that wants us to believe that “the good life” involves doing as little as possible in exchange for the maximum amount of pleasure and comfort. We extrapolate that notion to our vision of heaven, where we fantasize that there shall be no more work, no more sweat.

But Scripture makes it clear that working is part of the plan. From the jump, God gives Adam the important task of caring for creation. And while the result of humankind’s disobedience includes the thorny and thistly nature of work, it never teaches us to expect it to be easy. The assurance of a life marked by sedentary indulgence is conspicuously absent from the Bible.

Work is a gift; work alongside God is a privilege. God doesn’t need us to manage His kingdom, but He has enlisted us to participate. Just like a dad doesn’t need his young son to rake leaves in the fall yet invites him into the crisp air and technicolor crunch of fallen foliage, so God doesn’t actually depend on our help. He simply wants us to enjoy His creation and, more than anything, to enjoy simply being with Him.

As we await the new creation, we have a lot of work to do, and we know that there will always be thorns and thistles. Paul’s admonition about the perspective we ought to have about our work is a liberating comfort and consolation: “Whatever you do, do it from the heart, as something done for the Lord and not for people” (Colossians 3:23). However sharp the thorns, however jagged the thistles, let’s take heart and get to work!