Revival begins when individual believers take seriously their assigned roles as salt of the earth.

If work is so important, and every Christian is engaged in it, and we spend most of our waking hours doing it, then why is the Bible overwhelmingly focused on pastoral and church issues? There are detailed instructions for elders and deacons, for how to conduct the Lord’s Supper and how to care for the widow—and all of that is good and important. But if our work is such a big deal, why aren’t there more Scripture passages that directly address it? This (good) question seems to include a deeper question: How would God have me work out my faith in my day-to-day labor? As we turn to the Bible, one clear pattern I see is that there’s no playbook—do this, do that, and your work glorifies God. The absence of direct instruction is the instruction. Work isn’t the only domain that falls under this category. Whether you’re thinking about how to have a good marriage, how to parent, how to take care of your physical body, or how to make decisions, few places in Scripture give a specific word. But if you look at the whole of Scripture, you can see patterns and examples that answer these questions—including the question about work. With that lens, I want to highlight a few places where these patterns show up and explore how they’re more instructive than just instruction. Your Work Right Now You can’t get out of the first chapter of Genesis without seeing the glimmers of what God intends for our work: “God blessed them and said to them, ‘Be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it. Rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky and over every living creature that moves on the ground’” (1:28, NIV). As we look through the Old Testament, a theme emerges that follows this creation mandate: People use the gifts that God has given them at the place and time he’s put them in. People use the gifts that God has given them at the place and time he’s put them in. Abraham, Jacob, Joseph, Moses, Bezalel and Oholiab, and “every craftsman in whom the LORD has put skill” (Ex. 36:1) use their work in a specific place and time. Moses’s father-in-law, Jethro, is arguably the father of organizational design. Priests do all kinds of activities, from helping fight infectious disease to ensuring buildings are built to code. Of course, there is more to the priesthood than that, but not less. A pattern emerges: God gives people an opportunity to use their gifts for the furthering of his kingdom and service of his people. As they do the everyday tasks of tending sheep, running a prison, or sewing temple curtains, it doesn’t seem like much progress is being made. But from this distance, we can see they were (and we are) contributing to a much bigger work. Purpose of Work Further on in the Old Testament, we get more tactical patterns for how to think about work, its seasons, and its purpose. The Teacher (Kohelet) in Ecclesiastes gives an unflinching but ultimately redemptive look at the more painful quandaries of work and life—without God, it’s meaningless, a chasing after the wind. The seasons for everything in Ecclesiastes 3 paint a picture of rhythms of life and work essential for our effectiveness and thriving. The book of Proverbs also has many nuggets of wisdom, such as guidance on the benefits of being diligent (Prov. 21:15), smart with resources (Prov. 6:6-8), and purposeful in your work activities (Prov. 16:3). You could pluck a single thread out of Ecclesiastes and Proverbs for instruction about work, but their broader tapestry is about being a thoughtful steward of the many and varied experiences of work as a whole. Work for Christ Another pattern emerges in the New Testament. The early church is organizing, and the apostles are trying to give pastoral guidance to their fledgling churches. Inevitably, the topic of “How should we live?” comes up. Paul writes to the Colossians, “Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving” (Col. 3:23–24, NIV). Paul doesn’t say, “Whatever you do, except for nonchurch work . . .” The phrase “whatever you do” is sweeping. Your work is service to Christ, regardless of what it is. Elsewhere, Paul says to work hard, but don’t work for the sake of just working: “Make it your ambition to lead a quiet life: You should mind your own business and work with your hands, just as we told you, so that your daily life may win the respect of outsiders and so that you will not be dependent on anybody” (1 Thess. 4:11–12, NIV). Here is the answer to the questions of the Old Testament: Why are we doing this work? What does it matter if we do it well? The work that God gave us, that is meaningless without him, is meant to give glory to Christ. Glory to Christ Our work glorifies Christ because he’s our example of what it means to live out an ultimate work—the work of salvation by means of his death and resurrection. The author of Hebrews sums it up this way: “Let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God” (12:1–2, NIV). The phrase ‘whatever you do’ is sweeping. Your work is service to Christ, regardless of what it is. Jesus had work to do. Hard work. Ultimate work. Work we could never do ourselves. And he did it with perseverance, looking to the joy ahead and the reward of being at the right hand of God. Our work isn’t salvific. But as the “pioneer and perfecter,” Jesus set an example of fully and perfectly completed work. We can aspire to endurance and perseverance in whatever work we do if we have a Savior and paragon in Jesus’s saving work. New Work By God’s grace, he’s given us work to do. The absence of instruction—a playbook, a syllabus, a step-by-step guide—is our clue that the general sanctification the Bible calls for also applies to our work. Be self-controlled. Don’t lie or cheat. Give generously. Be gentle, peace-loving, joyful. As our souls look more like Jesus, our lives change. We become better spouses, better friends, better children, better parents—and better employers and employees. God loves you and cares about how you live your life. In your work, use your gifts, work your best, persevere, and give glory to God in all the vain days of your life (Eccl. 9:9).

In opening her 1923 novel, Whose Body?, which introduced the world to the crime-solving and monocle-wearing Lord Peter Wimsey, Dorothy L. Sayers tells of a respectable family who finds a body in their bathtub one morning. It has appeared there overnight by means unknown and for reasons unknown. Likewise unknown is the identity of the victim—or the murderer. Unknowns stacked on unknowns obscure the truth from view, necessitating careful detecting. As I was reading Denny Burk’s Mere Complementarianism: Male and Female in the Image of God, I reflected on Whose Body? and other theological whodunits. Complementarianism too has appeared in the world by means unknown to some, leading to charges that it’s a modern innovation, imposed by fiat by a few conservatives on a power trip. The complementarian-egalitarian debates in the 21st century, furthermore, have coincided with debates over whose body any body is—consider the debates over transgender ideology, which begin with the premise that every person’s body belongs to him or her alone, to be remade in accordance with the individual’s wishes. Amid this cultural noise, Burk’s aims are simple—as the title reflects. Conversations about complementarianism have become muddled over extras, distracting us from seeing clearly what it really means for both men and women to be made in the image of God. Depending on whose version of complementarianism we hear described, it looks different. According to Burk, professor of biblical studies at Boyce College, his aim for this book is to “explain and commend mere complementarianism—that is, what has been common to all complementarians at all times” (22). The rest, like a mystery unraveled at the end of a whodunit, readily falls into place. Definitions Matter Before we talk about complementarianism, we must define the term. At its core, this is a conversation about our bodies—male and female—and the extraordinary idea that both are made in the image of God: “Complementarianism is a biblical doctrine defining the identity of, and relationship between, man and woman. It presupposes that a man is an image-bearer whose body is organized for reproducing as a father and that a woman is an image-bearer whose body is organized for reproducing as a mother” (1). While in the ancient Near East and the Mediterranean world women were repeatedly presumed inferior to men, the Bible presents a different story of the creation of men and women, emphasizing the significance of both for the created order. This is one important part of what Scripture tells us. From this starting point, there are additional implications for men and women beyond merely their roles as parents. And these implications apply to those who never marry and those who never have children. Why Does This Matter? Burk makes a theological argument: It’s important to recognize that the offspring of the woman is literal offspring—meaning that the offspring will come from childbirth. . . . God’s redemptive plan for the world requires procreation between a man and a woman—not just one couple but between countless couples in an unbroken line until the chosen seed finally appears in fulfillment of prophecy. In this way, marriage has a central role in God’s plan to redeem the world. (96) These ideas, foundational to what we now refer to as complementarianism, have been part of the gospel from the beginning. Our bodies—and the differences between men’s and women’s bodies—have theological significance. Of course, we’re much more than our bodies. Burk writes, That “more than” has implications for how we define what a man is and what a woman is. Our bodily design is not separate from, but in an organic unity with, the invisible part of our human nature. The material ordering of our bodies is in an organic unity with the immaterial ordering of our souls. (55) But while these ideas are very old, the term “complementarianism” is new. Early in the book, Burk offers a helpful overview of the term’s history. For those who have heard of the Danvers Statement but are unfamiliar with how it came about, the brief overview is informative. The key, though, is to understand that the term describes in English something that’s embedded in the Bible in such an axiomatic way that it has no name in Greek (or in other ancient languages, for that matter). Complementarianism on Trial Complementarianism has been subject to many charges by its opponents. Among other claims, critics argue that the entire system is an innovation by a few patriarchs on a power trip, that it’s inherently abusive to women, and that the very concept of different roles for men and women in any sphere of life in the modern world is disrespectful and demeaning for women. Our bodies—and the differences between men’s and women’s bodies—have theological significance. Except, many of those who make the charges don’t even seem to know precisely what complementarianism is. The accusation that it’s inherently abusive, for instance, is untrue. As Burk argues, “In the Bible, there are at least three institutions that demonstrate an authority of command—parents, the state, and the church. God gives all three of these not only authority but also the right to enforce their will through coercive measures. . . . Yet when it comes to husbands and elders/pastors/overseers, God gives them no means to enforce their directives” (123). Church members who submit to the authority of their pastors and elders do so because they respect them and their authority. The same applies to the marriage relationship. Violence and abuse violate God’s commands for the use of power in these relationships—and it absolutely isn’t part of God’s design. Neither is it part of complementarianism. Real-Life Applications Burk dedicates the book’s later chapters to the various applications of the above ideas in particular spheres—especially in marriage and in the church. A concluding “catch-all” chapter provides applications in a wider variety of settings about which people often have questions as well—such as Sunday school and seminary. Throughout this chapter, Burk cautions against making distinctions between function (e.g., preaching) and office (e.g., pastor). Those who have proposed at times separating the two and allowing a woman to preach by stating that she expressly isn’t doing so in a pastoral role are undermining the pastoral office. Violence and abuse violate God’s commands for the use of power in these relationships—and it absolutely isn’t part of God’s design. Neither is it part of complementarianism. When it comes to women teaching in seminaries, Burk interviewed seminary presidents on their hiring practices, and they agreed they don’t have a blanket prohibition on women teaching in their institutions, but they don’t hire women to teach in positions that involve modeling the work of a pastor—especially theology and preaching. I would have liked to see Burk refer more to complementarians outside his tradition (the Southern Baptist Convention) in this section—the Presbyterian Church in America, the Evangelical Free Church, and the Churches of Christ, to name just a few, have a robust tradition of complementarianism as well. This is my one quibble with this book. The argument for “mere complementarianism” would have been strengthened with more references to other traditions than only Burk’s own. In this chapter, also, Burk notes a few areas where complementarians themselves disagree. For example, there are a few self-described complementarians, like Harold Hoehner and Sam Storms, who argue that “pastor is not an office in the New Testament but a gift” of the Holy Spirit, which can at times be bestowed on women as well (245). This perspective separates the roles of elder and pastor. Burk argues that it “presses against the created order and contradicts the mere complementarianism” he argues for (254). However, it’s helpful to recognize that there are still live debates among complementarians. This book is a helpful and readable resource for those who want to understand why complementarianism is important both theologically and practically—because (to answer the Whose Body? question one last time) this matters for the body of Christ that is the church. Mere Complementarianism delivers as promised: an overview of God’s vision for men and women in the church and beyond that’s straightforward and helpful.

Provides an accessible overview of Catholic history, worship, authority, sacraments, and key theological beliefs.

Your heavenly Father is near and is truly worthy of our adoration and praise.