Among the most conservative branches of the Christian
tradition in which I was raised, a utilitarian philosophy surrounding vocational
choices is somewhat popular. This philosophy is grounded in an admirable effort
to remove distraction so that more time is free for service to God and to His
people. It is my contention, however that this position is dangerous. In 2012,
I chose to pursue a graduate degree in biology against the advice of friends
operating from this utilitarian paradigm. One year ago today, I finished that
degree. Today, on the anniversary of my dissertation defense, I am enjoying
some extra free time during my first summer break as a professor at a Christian
liberal arts university in central Arkansas and reflecting on the choice to
pursue a vocation that demands so much of my time and attention. It has not
been without its difficulties, but I am convinced that it was the right choice.
Here’s why:
Utilitarianism Promotes a Divided Life
In the utilitarian view, a secular vocation is seen as a
necessary evil – something to be given minimal effort in order to conserve
energy for that which is of utmost importance. By doing so, many with this
philosophy find themselves living a divided life – one part secular and the
other part spiritual. The man or woman who successfully minimizes the secular
compartment to a size which meets only necessity’s demands is the successful
Christian. However, do you see the problem? There
are still two compartments. By rejecting the notion that a secular vocation
is merely a necessary evil and instead choosing it as an extension of a single
life that is wholly devoted to the
work of God, I have been blessed with a fullness that I could not experience
while operating under the utilitarian paradigm. The psalmist writes in Psalm
86:11: Teach me Your way, O Lord; I will
walk in Your truth; Unite my heart to fear Your name. Isn’t that beautiful?
Unite my heart. Fullness of devotion
to Christ requires a united heart, not a divided one. Every part of my heart
must have the same direction. That leaves no room for a separation between the
secular and the spiritual, even if the secular compartment is small. If we are
to pursue Christ single-mindedly, that precludes the option of simply
minimizing the compartment devoted to secular things. The secular compartment
must go away. One option, I suppose, would be to eliminate a secular vocation
altogether. However, refusing to work at all is not only impractical, but it is
non-biblical. Paul warns against it in 2 Thessalonians 3, and in 1 Timothy 5:8
says, But if anyone does not provide for
his own, and especially for those of his household, he has denied the faith. So,
eliminating the secular compartment by refusing secular work is not an option
for a Christian. Fortunately, there is another, better, more fulfilling option:
Whatever you do in word or deed, do all
in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks through Him to God the Father.
(Colossians 3:17). Instead of two compartments, the Christian must have one –
one in which the name of the Lord Jesus permeates his or her every choice. It
is this final option that I chose when I pursued my graduate degree in biology.
Rather than expanding my secular compartment and squeezing out the spiritual, as
some feared, I chose to reject the idea of a divider altogether. My whole life
would be devoted to Christ, including my vocation.
Seeing Your Vocation as an Extension of Your Faith
I chose a vocation that is, perhaps, more easily permeated
by faith than others. I’ll talk about that in my next point. However, the
reality is that, if you are a Christian, you must not divide your life into
little compartments. You have committed your whole life to Christ. CS Lewis writes: Christ says, ‘Give me All. I don’t want so much of your time and so
much of your money and so much of your work: I want You.’ You. All of you.
All of your work. All of your hopes. All of your dreams. All of your time. Instead
of sorting your time into that which is devoted to Christ and that which is a
necessary evil, He demands that you surrender it all. Your vocation belongs to
Him. You pledged it to Him the day you pledged your life to him. It does you no
good to minimize the compartment. You must open it into the other. Pull out the
divider. Let His goals and dreams for you collide with and change yours. Let
Him call you – even in your vocation – to be stronger, better, more devoted, than
you ever could be without Him. CS Lewis (again): If I am
a field that contains nothing but grass-seed, I cannot produce wheat. Cutting
the grass may keep it short: but I shall still produce grass and no wheat. If I
want to produce wheat, the change must go deeper than the surface. I must be
ploughed up and re-sown. If you keep your “grass short” or your “secular
compartment small”, you will never be fully like Christ, because there is a
part of you, however small, that you see as separate from your life in Him.
Science and Faith in One Box
To be a Christian scientist seems to some to be an oxymoron –
and it seems that way both to Christians and to atheists. However, I have not
found it to be so. I have, instead, found it to be one of the most natural
extensions of my faith. It is far easier for me to see my work as a biologist
in the framework of faith than it is for me to see, say, washing dishes as an
extension of my faith (and yes, there are ways for faith to permeate dish
washing as well). During graduate school, however, I often struggled to see
Christ in my work. My work was so very focused on something quite small, and it
was difficult to take my mind back and back to the glory of God in the calcium
pump I studied. Yet, I persisted. I did not, however, anticipate the
overwhelming flood of Christ that has come into my vocation since I finished my
Ph.D. a year ago. I have come out of the tunnel that belongs to calcium pumps,
and the largeness of life on this earth has exploded once again on my vision.
Beyond that, even the intricacies of the physical sciences have come into view
again.
When my students are becoming bogged down with the details
of body systems, I sometimes make them stop taking notes for moment. “Discovery
leads to wonder,” I tell them, “and wonder wants to worship. As Christians, we
have an object on which to focus that worship. Choose to be impressed by what
you are discovering about creation. Wonder about it. And then, worship.” This is
the natural progression. This is why I became a biologist in the first place.
It is in the world around us, in part, that God leaves his fingerprints. The
Bible tells us in Psalm 19, The heavens
are telling of the glory of God; and their expanse is declaring the work of His
hands. Day to day pours forth speech, and night to night reveals knowledge.
There is no speech, nor are there words; their voice is not heard. God reveals
Himself not only in the written words of scripture, but in creation itself. The
heavens tell the glory of God, and so do all of the lifeforms here on earth. But,
they do so without words. Recently, I was at a conference where New Testament
scholar NT Wright spoke about this. He said, Humans are the beings that sum up the praises of creation and present
them before God. Can you see the beauty of that? Creation praises without
words, but as a scientist, I get a front row seat to that praise. I get to sum
them up and put them into words and present them before God and before all
people. Why would I devote so much of my life to this vocation? So that I can read the praises of creation,
interpret them, and tell them to God. And that, my friends, is worth every
hour I spent at the microscope, every night that I didn’t get enough sleep,
every manuscript I read, every tear I shed, every day I spent pursuing that
degree. I can now taste the fruit of those labors and that fruit is so very
good.
For since the creation
of the world His invisible attributes, His eternal power and divine nature,
have been clearly seen, being understood through what has been made… -
Romans 1:20
