"Whatever you do, work heartily, as for the Lord and not for men." — Colossians 3:23
The modern world tells us that meaningful work is found by discovering the right job. Find the career that makes you jump out of bed in the morning, and you'll never work another day in your life. Or so it goes. But Paul is remarkably uninterested in making personal fulfillment the foundation of meaningful work.
When he tells these Christians to work "with all your heart," he is writing to bondservants, many of whom occupied some of the least desirable positions in the Roman economy. They were not living their dream or maximizing personal fulfillment. Yet Paul still expects them to work wholeheartedly. How is that possible?
Paul understands something we often forget; namely, work runs on story. Human beings can endure almost any task if they know what story they are participating in. Conversely, even exciting work becomes unbearable when it loses its meaning.
The philosopher Alasdair MacIntyre illustrates this with a famous example. Imagine a man walks up to you and repeatedly says, "The Latin name of a Harlequin Duck is histrionicus, histrionicus, histrionicus." The statement makes little sense until you place it within a story. Perhaps the man is mentally ill. Perhaps he is teaching ornithology and mistook you for a student. Perhaps he is a spy communicating a coded message. The exact same words take on entirely different meanings depending on the story surrounding them.
The same is true of work. The nurse working a twelve-hour shift; the teacher grading papers late at night; the manager handling employee complaints; the pastor preparing sermons while exhausted; the barista making coffee for the hundredth customer of the day—these activities matter not only because of the attitude we bring to them but because they contribute, in different ways, to the flourishing of God's world. In other words, their deepest significance becomes clear only when we understand the story in which they participate.
And this is precisely what Paul does in Colossians 3. He takes ordinary work and places it inside an extraordinary narrative. The key is found in four words: "As for the Lord." Those four words completely transform the meaning of work. The Christian does not work primarily for a paycheck, a promotion, a company, or even personal fulfillment. The Christian works for Christ and his kingdom.
That is why Paul can command wholehearted effort regardless of the task. He is not saying, "Love every part of your job." He is saying, "Love the God for whom you are doing your job."
This also reshapes how we think about calling. Many people live with what might be called a dead-end story: "I wanted to be an artist, musician, or writer, but instead I'm driving Uber, serving tables, or working behind a counter." But this misunderstands calling.
“Our primary calling is not to a career. It is to God himself. ”
Our primary calling is not to a career. It is to God himself. We are called first to know him, love him, and belong to him. A second primary calling is to seek first God's Kingdom, and his Righteousness (Matt. 6:33). After these primary callings come our temporary or circumstantial callings—to a particular job, family, church, or season of life. Of course, these temporary callings still matter. God places us in particular contexts with gifts and opportunities. But note their significance. These are not our ultimate calling—they merely offer a given set of circumstances by which we love God and seek first His Kingdom.
This dead-end narrative also misunderstands work. The Bible does not divide work into "important" and "unimportant" categories. God himself is a worker. In Genesis, he creates, forms, plants, builds, and cultivates. Scripture presents all legitimate work with dignity because it reflects the incredible variety of work we see exhibited in God's own activity. Some forms of work may align more closely with our gifts, opportunities, and sense of calling than others, but all honest work possesses dignity and the potential to serve God's kingdom purposes.
So, Paul is not dismissing the importance of what we do. The work itself matters. Christians should seek opportunities to use their gifts well, serve their neighbors faithfully, and participate in God's renewing work in the world (1 Cor. 15:58). Yet in Colossians 3, Paul's emphasis falls on something fundamental: the One for whom we work. After all, Paul made tents. I doubt tentmaking was his dream job. Nevertheless, he understood that all work could be done for Christ and His Kingdom purposes.
“In Christ, ordinary work becomes both an act of worship and a means of loving our neighbors.”
This doesn't mean we shouldn't pursue work we would enjoy. If we can earn a living doing something we love, praise God. Nor does it mean that vocational discernment is unimportant. But if we must do work we don't prefer, the good news is that no job is trapped in a meaningless story. In Christ, ordinary work becomes both an act of worship and a means of loving our neighbors.
So, if your work feels invisible, repetitive, or thankless, remember this: God sees it. He notices what others overlook. Make his pleasure, not public recognition, the driving story of your work.
In Christ, our work becomes more than a means of making a living—it becomes a way of loving God and neighbor as we anticipate the renewal of all things in Christ.
Mundane work included.
Robert Covolo is the Executive Director at the Center for Faith + Work Los Angeles.