To Each One His Work

Ome people do not like to work. Perhaps it is true that the disinclination is natural and universal, and that we all have to learn to like to work. There is an impression prevalent that work was part of the curse of the fall, that if our first parents had kept their holy estate in Eden, work would not have been necessary. But this impression is incorrect. When man was created he was put into the Garden of Eden to dress it and keep it. Work, therefore, was part of the blessing of Eden and is part of the blessing of all life. It is a means of grace. No one can be a good Christian and not do anything, unless he is incapacitated in some way. Idleness is sin and there is always a curse on it.

Work is part of the plan of God for our 133 finntns tie Wm

lives. The affairs of the world go on well only when everyone is doing his part. To each one his particular work is assigned. Whether our part is great or small, conspicuous or obscure, if it is the divine allotment for us, it is noble and worthy. The Koran tells of Gabriel being sent to earth to do two things. One was to keep King Solomon in his exultation over his royal steeds from forgetting the hour of prayer; the other was to help a little yellow ant on the slope of Ararat, which had grown weary in getting home the food it was bearing. To Gabriel the one command seemed as important as the other, and the one task as worthy, since God had ordained both.

“Silently he left The Presence and prevented the king’s sin And holp the little ant at entering in.”

If our work is divinely allotted nothing is unfit for kingliest hands. That which God assigns is most worthy. If blacking shoes is a man’s duty, is the task allotted to him [134]

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for the time, there is no other work in all the world that would be so noble and worthy for him that particular day or hour. To each one his work is given. None are omitted or overlooked in the assignment — no one is left without some task. Duties are not given to some while others are sent out with nothing to do. We are all put into this world to work until our days for service here are closed.

“What are we set on earth for? Say, to toil; Nor seek to leave thy tending of the vines, For all the heat o’ the day, till it declines, And death’s mild curfew shall from work assoil.”

To each his own particular work is given. Not all have the same task, nor is the distribution of duties a haphazard one. People differ in abilities, and the tasks are suited to the hands. If, then, we do not do our own allotted work it will not be done, and there will be a blank in God’s universe where there ought to have been a piece of work well done. It matters not how small our part is, the [135] fintJing tle Wav

doing of it perfectly is essential to the completeness of the divine plan, and the failure to do it well will leave a flaw.

‘’One small life in God’s great plan!

How futile it seems as the ages roll Do what it may or strive how it can,

To alter the sweep of the infinite whole! A single stitch in an endless web, A drop in the ocean’s flow and ebb! But the pattern is rent where the stitch is lost. Or marred where the tangled threads have crossed; And each life that fails of its true intent Mars the perfect plan that the Master meant.”

What is true of work in general is true of Christian work as well. In a sense all work is religious. Everything is to be done in the name of Christ and for him, and all duty is part of God’s will for us. Every piece of work has a moral value. Either we do it right and please God, or we do it indifierently and imperfectly, and so sin against God. The commonest tasks are as sacred in their way as are our prayers and songs of praise. Jesus himself was engaged in his [136]

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Father’s business quite as truly and as acceptably when he was working in the carpenter shop, as when afterwards he was teaching and healing the people.

Yet we all have duties besides those which belong to our week-day callings. It is not enough for any man to be a carpenter or a builder or a merchant or a physician or a farmer. Everyone must be, first of all, a Christian — Christ’s man. We should do our secular work for Christ and do it well, but we should be a great deal larger than the little measure of our week-day occupation, and should do far more every day than our little stint of common taskwork in the shop or in the field. We represent our Master in this world and must not slack our diligence in the things that he would do for people if he were here.

In our Christian work, then, we should be as enthusiastic and as earnest as we are in our secular pursuits. If we are conspicuous in the world’s work we should certainly be no less conspicuous in our work for the Master’s [137] ifiuDing tle Wat

kingdom. Few even of the best Christians do their best for their Master. Saint Paul exhorted his young friend Timothy to stir up the gift that was in him. The fire was banked up and smoldering when it should have been burning brightly. In not many of us is the passion for Christian service doing its best.

On all sides the motive of earnestness and diligence presses. The natural world teaches us the lesson. Every flower that blooms has its inspiration for us — we should put beauty into everything we do. Every bird that sings calls us to live more songfully and cheerfully. Every wind that blows whispers to us of the breath of God and urges us to open all our being to its blessed influence.

“/ would give up all the mind
In the prim city’s hoard can find — House with its scrap-art bed light,
Straightened manners of the street,
Smooth-voiced society — // so the swiftness of the wind
Might pass into my feet;
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If so the sweetness of the wheat
Into my soul might pass,
And the clear courage of the grass;
If the lark carolled in my song;
If one tithe of the faithfulness
Of the bird-mother with her brood
Into my selfish heart might press,
And make me also instinct good.”

It is true also in the realm of spiritual life that everyone has his own work allotted to him. There is something for everyone. In the building of the wall in Nehemiah’s time, each man built over against his own house, and thus the entire wall was soon repaired. We will easily find our work for Christ if we will look for it right opposite our own door. We never need to journey far away to come upon it. The trouble with too many is that they pass by the work which is at their hand, not dreaming that it is the thing given to them to do, and expect to find something unusual in some unwonted place. The artist who had sought everywhere for some fit material for his Madonna found it at last [139] ifmDing tle Wa

in a common firelog in the wood-yard. Our holiest duties are always near at hand, not far off.

Then our work is not what some other one is doing, but something which is all our own. Paul illustrates this by comparing the church to a human body. There are many members in a body and each has its own distinct function. If we had only hands, or if our body were all feet or all hands, we would be only monstrosities. So if all men were fishermen or all were farmers or all were lawyers, there would be no society. In the line of spiritual work there is also the widest diversity of things to be done, and if we all had the same gift, with ability for doing just one thing, how could the great field of duty be covered.’^ But there are diversities of gifts, so that no place shall be left unfilled, so that for no task there shall be a hand lacking. “To each one his work.”

A man may not have the gift of eloquence

and may almost envy another whose speech

is winning. But the man of slow speech may

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have power in prayer. Adelaide Procter gives a legend of a monk who preached with great power. In those who heard, sorrow and love and good resolve awoke. A poor lay brother, sitting on the pulpit stairs, rejoiced as he saw how the eloquent words of the monk moved men. The monk himself praised God that his words were used, that hearts were melted, and lives led up to heights of loving sacrifice.

“So prayed the monk: when suddenly he heard An angel speaking thus: * Know, 0 my son, Thy words had all been vain; but hearts were stirred,

And sai7its were edified, and sinners won, By his, the poor lay brother’s humble aid,

Who sat upon the pulpit stairs and prayed.’”

We need never envy anyone the gift he possesses. That is his gift, and we have our own. Ours may not seem as great or as important as his, but that need not concern us. We are responsible only for what God has given us, and all we have to do is to make the fullest possible use of it. If another’s [141] finning tle Waig

gift is more brilliant than ours, the other has a greater responsibility than we have, and we need not envy him. Besides, we dq not know what particular gift is most important, what kind of work ranks highest with God or does most for the upbuilding of Christ’s kingdom. Perhaps it means more to be able to pray well than to speak well. Power with God may be a mightier factor in doing good than power over men. It may be that the quietest people, who are not often heard of, who work obscurely and without fame, are quite as well known in heaven and as highly honored as those who are in conspicuous positions and receive praise from men.

We please God best and do the best work in the world when we cheerfully accept our place, however lowly, and do sweetly and as well as we can the work which God gives us to do. It ought to impart zest to the humblest calling to know that it is the will of God for us and that that and not something else is our part in the divine allotment of [ 142]

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duty. There can be nothing greater in this world for anyone than the doing of God’s will. We make the most of our life when we accept our own place and do well our own work. We work then with God and we shall not fail either of his help or of his reward.

“// there be good in that I wrought,

Thy hand compelled it, Master — thine. Where I have failed to meet thy thought, I know, through thee, the blame is mine.

“One instant’s toil to thee denied
Stands all eternity’s offense;
Of what I did with thee to guide,
To thee, through thee, be excellence.

“One stone the more swings to her place
In that dread temple of thy worth;
It is enough that through thy grace
I saw naught common on thy earth.”

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“Her prayer-books had repose,
One word her heart sufficed,
Scent of a hidden rose:
Christ!

“To creeds her soul was shut,
For her confession of
The Christian faith was but
Love,

“She craved no temple-wall.
Between the sky and sod
Her happy world was all
God:’