Work as if it all depends on God?

January 24, 2025

After another round with Covid in the last year, God has been teaching me a few things about work/life balance, being realistic about my limits and trusting Him in the process of it all (which is much easier to write about than learn!).

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"Work as if it all depends on God"?


Yes, I realise that’s not how the saying goes. But no, it’s not a typo.


Pray as if it all depends on God, work as if it all depends on you.”


That is the version we might be more familiar with. In other words: when you pray, pray hard! When you work, work hard! It’s some serious pull-yourself-up-by-the-bootstraps wisdom. My adrenaline spikes just thinking about it.


But is this ‘wisdom’ really that wise? I think not.


The issue(s) with “pray as if it all depends on God”


  1. Our prayer does not need to be a feat of strength to convince God to help us. Yes, there is a place for continuing, ongoing prayer and petition. Take the parable of the unjust judge and the widow in Luke 18. She pesters him until he gives her what she wants. But the point Jesus makes is that God is not like the unjust judge—he doesn’t delay in granting justice. Yes, we have to exercise patience and perhaps pray for things over extended periods of time, but that doesn’t mean God needs convincing to hear our prayers. He is at work. He is on His way. Consider the reassurance of James 1:7: “Every generous act of giving, with every perfect gift, is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change.”
  2. Prayer is as natural as everyday conversation: it is not a sales pitch. Talking to another person, most of the time, is a natural flowing process. Unless we’re nervous, stressed or angry, we just talk. Say what we want to say. Prayer is as ordinary as asking your spouse to pick up a pint of milk from the store. This is where I’m at, God. Yes, there are times where our prayers may have us on our knees because we’re praying about something that really hurts or scares us. Prayer has range. It doesn’t need urgency. It needs honesty. And God is in the pause.
  3. Yes, everything depends on God. But that was true before you started praying. (And God is aware.) Luke 12:22-31 reminds us not to worry because God has all things in his hands. Consider the lilies, the ravens, or the grass in the field. God was at work long before you existed and will be long after we’ve returned to the dust. Remember what Colossians 1 says about Christ as the image of God: “He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation; for in him all things in heaven and on earth were created, things visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or powers—all things have been created through him and for him. He himself is before all things, and in him all things hold together.” However dark or confusing the world might be, however it might seem as if God were not present: His work is not finished. The end of the story has not come.


I prefer “pray as if it all depends on you” rather than “on God.” Why? Because if it does all depend on me, I quite quickly realise I need help. It brings me to my knees. It humbles me. If I am called to loving action within this world, then I know I’m not qualified and need help. I can’t remember who it is or where this comes from (and I’ll probably get the details wrong), but it’s the story of the guy who on his busiest days would have to get up extra early to pray for 2 hours to be able to survive the day. To do the work of doing justice, loving kindness and walking in humility (Mic 6:8) demands that I pray and do so in earnest, because on my own my actions are anything but.


In short, pray as it all depends on me reminds me that in prayer I approach a God who loves me, a God has it all in His hands, a God I come to in desperate need of His help to play my part.


But what about “work as if it all depends on me”?


I have a beef with this one too. It seems like a holy sanction of pushing ourselves to the limit. I don’t see much grace in such a pattern and it chafes against the picture of work and rest we see in Scripture.


Take the commandment to keep Sabbath. In Deuteronomy it is tied to what God has done in liberating his people from slavery in Egypt and making them into His own people:


“Remember that you were a slave in the land of Egypt, and the Lord your God brought you out from there with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm; therefore the Lord your God commanded you to keep the sabbath day.”


The Israelites had been delivered from forced, heavy labour and provided with a promised land to till and inhabit. Everything they'd been given was grace: freedom to work, a land to farm and fruitful trees they did not plant. Stepping away from their work in the midst of all this grace kept their focus and reminded them it all depended on what God had brought about. It was an act of continued trust of that God's grace was enough in their life and livelihoods. And all were to rest from work on the Sabbath, not just those in charge but their slaves, immigrants and even the livestock. This was a gift for all not for those that deluded themselves into thinking they deserved it.


Work as if it all depends on God” makes much more sense.


Why? Because:


  1. It reminds me I’m not responsible for the outcome. I am called to diligent, faithful work today, which contributes to the outcome. But I cannot control tomorrow. Disaster could strike. Sickness. The economy could crash. An ancient Israelite had no power over the sun, rain or harvest other than faithfully tending to their crops. We are subject to so many and changing dynamics in the world that are far above our paygrade. Thinking the outcome all depends on us is fantasy.
  2. It reminds me of the God who holds all things in His hands. Work is part of life, but it’s not to be idolized. The salvation we have is about eternal salvation from sin, but also safe passage through this life. That’s not to say life is free from suffering (quite the opposite), but that life under God is to be lived by active trust in God. Work is part of the things that God gives us along the way, but it’s just work. Part of a much bigger, divinely-held, whole.
  3. It lets me be human. I do the work I can do. I work within my limits and not even right at them. God is opposed to slavery in all forms, and that includes the kind that is self-imposed and self-driven. As an antedote to this, I heard of a great word recently: underscheduling. This is the idea that we ought to give ourselves space between appointments rather than cramming as much as possible into it all. It means leaving wiggle room for yourself: allowing more time than you need to drive to the store, do that project or to make that meeting. Rather than running our reserves down to almost empty and doing the most we can with as little as possible, underscheduling doesn't let the tank get below ¼ full. Life is a marathon not a sprint—and underscheduling is a way to pace oneself and (I suspect) trust God in the process, acknowledging we are embodied human beings, part of God's Creation and in need of breath, rest, and living within our limits.


Working as if it all depends on God invites me in to remember God is the one who brought me here, sustains me here and will take care of tomorrow. I do my part, but like all things: it’s ultimately in his hands. What grace!


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Photo by Spencer Scott Pugh on Unsplash

By Suse McBay May 29, 2025
****** “A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away.” I’m not sure if it’s true, but George Lucas, the creator of Star Wars, is credited as popularizing a big change in film production: not having opening credits. Instead of old Westerns and black and white films that began by naming the director, producer, key stars and so on, Lucas began the Star Wars films with the very famous line: “ A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away .” And then came the opening “crawl” that sets up the viewer for the story to come: "It is a period of civil war. Rebel spaceships, striking from a hidden base, have won their first victory against the evil Galactic Empire..." And so it sets up the story of Luke, Leia and Han Solo. Well, I want to suggest this morning that here in Acts 1 we have the opening words and “crawl” to the Book as a whole. And what sets the scene? Jesus’ ascension. *** In Acts 1, Luke recaps from where his gospel left off in Luke 24, with similar talk of the spread of gospel to the ends of the earth, that his disciples will be his witnesses, and his instruction to wait for the promise of God to come that is His Spirit, as well as, of course, Jesus’ ascent into heaven. But the Acts version has a specific focus: repeatedly mention the watching and looking of the disciples, the taking and lifting up of Jesus and the repeated mention of his destination: heaven. So why this attention in Acts' “opening crawl”? How does this set the scene for the story of the church that is told in Acts and continues today? Well, in contrast to the first victory in the opening of Star Wars, perhaps preparing for more victories to come, the Ascension grounds us in the defining, cosmic-shaping victory of Jesus that began with his resurrection and conlcudes with his exaltation in the spiritual world. Echoing Daniel 7, Jesus is taken up on a cloud, the chariot of the warrior-God, and is now enthroned to rule in heaven. The work of the church is done in light of this all-encompassing victory that has already been won. Christ is already King. But it’s not only that. Often we talk about Jesus’ ascension from a human perspective: his physical departure from earth. Here the disciples see for themselves Jesus’ exaltation and the opening of heaven: they are gripped by it. Through Christ’s entrance into and rule in heaven, he is made more readily available to us on earth. T he work of the church is done by living in a new space that recognises this opening of heaven: consider God’s promised Holy Spirit who comes in Acts 2, how angels appear here and throughout Acts, as well as people being healed, delivered from evil spirits, miracles taking place and people coming to faith . The spiritual realm is breaking in. So, this Thursday of 5th week, with deadlines, looming exams and soon-to-come ordinations: where will we look? Will we stare upwards and wonder where Jesus went? Or will we look outwards, and live in the light of the one who rules the heavens and has opened heaven to us, and for whom we wait to rule the earth as well? ******
By Suse McBay May 13, 2025
*** True Colours I was in a situation a few years ago where someone I trusted and expected to act in a certain way didn’t do so. In fact, they did they did the opposite. It hurt. It hurt because there were consequences that affected me, but it also hurt because I thought I knew the person, that I knew how’d they’d respond to pressure. When the rubber hits the road and things get real. Instead, their true colours emerged, and I was wrong. Who I thought this person was, and who they told me they were, was in reality quite different from who they actually proved themselves to be . The specifics aren’t for posting online, but I’m sure you can relate. Most of us can recall some kind of experience of someone we love, someone whose character we trust, letting us down. Someone who you might have believed in—maybe even defended to other people—choosing to do something that shows they weren’t worthy of that trust. Showing that your assessment of them was, essentially, quite different from the reality of who they are. They lacked integrity. Esther’s Example This term at Wycliffe, my colleague John is teaching his way through the book of Esther for the Bible expositions in chapel. Now the book of Esther famously doesn’t even mention God: so what is its purpose? Well, in part (as my colleague has been discussing), it’s a book about wisdom. Will we learn from the wise in the story: Esther (and Mordecai)? Will learn from the foolish: King Ahasuerus? The wicked: Haman? At the start of the book, Esther is a young, timid woman, who’d been through a lot. She was orphan and had been raised by her uncle. But she shows willingness and some social savviness and does what Mordecai tells her to do. By the end of the book she’s bold and courageous. Yes, she knows how to play the political game, but she does so in order to stand up for her people who are being persecuted by Persian imperial policy. She exposes Haman’s duplicitousness. Esther has a remarkable integrity and commitment to who she is and what she values. She is willing to risk her life to stand up for what is right, even knowing the cost. She has integrity. Her insides match her outsides as her character develops through the book. When We Fail Stephen and I go to a large Anglican church in the centre of Oxford. A couple of weeks ago, we had a visiting preacher (who is also a poet and philosopher) preaching about baptism. In the course of his sermon, he reminded us that who we really are is who we are when no-one is watching. And that Jesus died for us, knowing exactly what we do when the curtains are closed and no-one can see us. Again, it speaks to integrity—and that Jesus has come to deal with it. If everyone else thinks I’m a model Christian, but at home, by myself, I’m angry, compulsive, critical, selfish or greedy, the latter is a far more honest assessment of who I am and needs some spiritual help. It exposes a lack of integrity: I have an exterior self who looks one way, but an interior self (that I hide away) that looks quite another. What will happen when the pressure is on? That interior self will come out, one way or another. The good news is Jesus went to the Cross, even for that interior self. And with his help I can be forgiven, heal and become whole. That’s in part what baptism symbolises: me dying to all that ugliness and ungodliness. Naming it, owing it and leaving it with Jesus at the Cross, and then rising to a new life that where my insides match my outsides. A person of integrity. Learn from the Wise: Daniel 11-12 But what of the original situation: when others we trusted in and believed in have let us down? I’ve been teaching my way through the book of Daniel and its been fascinating to muse on this topic. Daniel 7-12 describe a series of visionary experiences that give God’s perspective on the political problems and extreme religious oppression that led to the Maccabean revolt in the 160s BC. These were largely due to the decisions of the Antiochus IV who was on the throne of the Hellenistic empire, a Greek of Seleucid descent. You can read about Antiochus IV in 1 and 2 Maccabees, but the snapshot version is that he installed puppet high priests in the Temple at Jerusalem, looted it for money to fuel his military campaigns, outlawed the Torah (including Sabbath observance and circumcision) and, most egregiously, desecrated the Temple with pig sacrifices and an altar to Zeus. These orders resulted in many faithful Jews having to try and keep Torah secretly. When discovered, those who had done so were public shamed and then executed (e.g. 2 Macc 6:10). It was miserable existence (2 Macc 6:9). Antiochus IV’s diabolical political rule was one thing, but the book of Daniel also wrestles with this: what do we do when our religious leaders let us down? When their outsides don’t match their insides? When we discover they are white-washed tombs (Matt 23:27)? The high priest and many other religious establishment figures were swayed by Antiochus IV at the expense of their loyalty to the Lord Most High. Daniel 11 and 12 in particular speak to this situation. Daniel 11:32 says that Antiochus will “seduce with intrigue those who violate the covenant” in contrast to “the people who are loyal to their God.” A few verses later we learn why: “Those who acknowledge him [Antiochus] he shall make more wealthy, and shall appoint them as rulers over many, and shall distribute the land for a price” (v.39). Antiochus used his power and means to get what he wanted, and those who showed more fidelity to him than to the God of Israel, got to share in that wealth themselves. So, what is Daniel’s answer to when the stewards of God’s covenant and teachers of God’s law reveal their true colours? When their words and who they’ve said they are don’t match up with who they have shown themselves to be? When those around us lack integrity, what are we to do? Well, it’s not to keep hanging on and believing in religious leaders who have proven themselves to be corrupted by political power (they are destined for shame and contempt, Dan 12:2). Daniel’s suggestion is to fix our eyes elsewhere instead: “ The wise among the people shall give understanding to many; for some days, however, they shall fall by sword and flame, and suffer captivity and plunder. ” (Daniel 11:33) Look to the wise. Look to those with understanding. Come to understand for yourselves. But this is not an easy answer. For these are the folk that get into trouble. Who perish by the sword. They don’t look like winners. This is perhaps why Daniel’s own response to the visions is one of weakness, fear and trembling. To understand and see reality for what it is can be deeply disturbing. In Daniel, understanding revolves around knowing God is God of all and all kings should have limits to their power. Even when kings like Antiochus IV trample on what is sacred, and transgress into the holy of holies—divine space—God through his angels is contending with powers beyond human ones and will bring all to judgement. But the waiting in the meantime will not be easy or pain-free. That’s why the promise of resurrection is so important in Daniel 12: it’s reassurance for the faithful—for the wise—to keep going. It is they who will be raised and will be like angels: "Those who are wise shall shine like the brightness of the sky, and those who lead many to righteousness, like the stars forever and ever." (Dan. 12:3) When those we’ve trusted and believed in fail us, God is at work. There may not be easy answers, and sitting with the reality of betrayal is painful, but God is not done yet. Sometimes what is happening is part of a much bigger, cosmic picture and God will intervene. Others’ words and actions may not line up, but ours can. Our insides can match our outsides and our words match our actions. With God’s help we too can become “ people who are loyal to their God ,” those who “ shall stand firm and take action. ” (Dan. 11:32) ****** Cover picture: John Everett Millais, Esther, 1863–65, Oil on canvas, 77.4 x 106 cm, Private Collection

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