How do you measure your self-worth? This is a question, I suspect, that we all, from time to time, think about. You go about life, but then pause, and ask, “What’s the point of my work? What am I doing? Why?” These are certainly important questions to ask. I asked them of myself about twenty-five years ago—I prayed—and I decided to pursue ordained ministry. I love my vocation—I wake up early in the morning most days eager to tackle the next book I need to read. I can’t wait to learn new things about the Scriptures. I go to work most days excited to be able to teach students about God’s word. I believe I’m one of a small class of people in this life who get paid to do something they really love. I love my calling! I get paid to study the Bible! As much as I love my job, I always do my best to hold my calling loosely in my hands.
By God’s grace, I hold my calling loosely in my hands because I don’t want my sense of self-worth wrapped up in what I do, but rather, it needs to be defined by who I am. These two categories (who I am and what I do) overlap, but they are not synonymous. Let me explain. I once had surgery on my neck that could have paralyzed my vocal chords. I informed the surgeon, “I know you will, but please be careful. My voice is like a shovel for a ditch-digger. If I lose it, I can’t preach! I can’t lecture! I can’t work!” I laid down on the operating table praying, “Lord, if you take my voice from me, please grant me the grace to accept your good, acceptable, and perfect will for my life.” Blessedly, the surgeon was skillful and I still have my voice. If I had lost my voice, I would have retired from preaching and lecturing. I would have been devastated. But I kept on reminding myself, “I am not what I do. Christ defines who I am.”
This truth was forcefully impressed upon my heart by a story one of my ruling elders told me about. He told me about one of his fellow elders who served at another NAPARC church. This man was healthy, fit, married, and had a number of children, and was successful. In a freak accident the man was paralyzed from the neck down. He could never use his body again, was imprisoned in a wheelchair, and obviously he was no longer able to live his life as he previously knew it. This man, however, continued to serve as a ruling elder. My friend asked this man how he was doing, to which the paralyzed man responded: “I am serving Christ and being the best head I can be.” To me, the answer was stunning. The man was not wallowing in pity. He was not in a state of depression given all that he had lost. I can easily imagine that, were I in a similar circumstance, I would be very angry and bitter at God for robbing me of my life. Yet this paralyzed man ultimately did not define himself by what he did but who he was in Christ. Given his union with Christ, his life was ultimately defined by what Christ had him do. I’m sure this man has days where he gets depressed and mourns over his circumstances, but I believe in the end he knows to whom he must look in order to find joy. In Paul’s words, whether in plenty or want, we can do all things through Christ who strengthens us (Phil. 4:11-13).
So, then, how do you define who you are? Are you a father? Are you a businessman? Are you an athlete? What happens when your children grow up and leave home? What happens if your business fails? What happens when the crowds no longer cheer? Have you now ceased to be who you think you’re supposed to be? Or are you united to Christ, dear and precious in his sight, one for whom he laid down his life, that you might live, who also happens to be a mom, businessman, or athlete? So often people retire at the end of their lives and they have a sense of loss because they don’t know what to do. They defined themselves by their jobs that they are lost without them. The same holds true for married couples. Once the children grow up and leave home, husband and wife don’t know how to live together because they no longer spend their days primarily as mom and dad. In the absence of what they know, they become lost, and in being lost, they give up. They get divorced.
Remember, what you do in life is not the same thing as who you are. Define who you are by your union with Christ—everything else in this life may come and go, but who you are in Christ is eternal.
Dr. John Fesko is an OPC minister and is professor of systematic and historical theology at Reformed Theological Seminary in Jackson, Mississippi.