In the years just before the American Civil War, the body of Christ in general and the clergy in particular, controlled the educational institutions of the country. They also had a stranglehold on the teaching and writing of political and economic theory.  What would on the surface seem to be a strong point for the church and the workplace would in reality accelerate the growing disconnect between faith and work, both culturally and in the minds of individual workers.

     Of the 288 college presidents just before the Civil War, 262 were ordained ministers.  Of these 262, 156 were strict Calvinistic Protestants, 30 were Baptist and 28 were Methodist. (G.P. Schmidt, Old Time College President, p. 184-186; Boston, 1930) Almost lock-step they taught that the economic laws as they (the clergy) taught them were in fact God's laws, and that they could no more be changed than His natural laws, like the law of gravity. (The theological term for this is "immutable"; they believed the laws of economics were as immutable as the law of gravity.) For example, they believed and taught that Scripture supported the idea of a fixed wage fund, that labor and capital's interests are intrinsically tied together; and therefore, any attempts to artificially alter wages not only broke God's laws but also were sinful, or to use their words, "impious".  They argued that labor unions were sinful attempts to artificially alter this wage fund and must therefore be considered unrighteous. They declared that such efforts would result in one of two things: Either they would hamper capitalists' ability to produce jobs, or other workers would have to lose their jobs in order to balance the wage fund. (Those arguments are used in less simplistic terms today to combat efforts to raise the minimum wage.) 

     In fact, in mid-19^th century America, it was almost exclusively pastors who wrote and taught political and economic textbooks before the Civil War. Frances Wayland, president of Brown University, wrote the leading textbook, The Elements of Political Economy, and it remained the preferred text/theory for almost fifty years, through the 1870's.  In that book, he taught (among other things) that God wants all property divided up and privately owned (in other words, there is to be no communal property); that no one should receive charity or assistance unless they are "afflicted", that the government cannot levy protective tariffs, change the value of currency, or pressure banks. Again, remember these were often taught as "God's immutable laws".

     Even the so-called "heretical Harvard", which had by that time surrendered most of its Christian heritage in a rush to embrace Unitarianism, shared these sentiments.  Harvard economist Francis Bowen taught that what makes human enterprise move forward was a poor man's dreams of living an opulent lifestyle and a rich man's fears of abject poverty. He wrote, "...the sight of the two extremes of opulence and poverty,--the hope of rising to the one and the fear of falling into the other,--is the constant stimulus which keeps up that energy and activity of the human race..." (Francis Bowen, The Principles of Political Economy, p. 499: Boston, 1856)

     Later, the clergy, in particular New England clergymen, and especially Boston clergymen, advocated using physical force to repel those (strikers) seeking to alter the natural laws of God with respect to wages and economics.  "Bring on the troops--the armed police--in overwhelming numbers. Bring out the Gatling guns. Let there be no fooling with blank cartridges.  But let the mob know, everywhere, that for it to stand one moment after it has been ordered by proper authorities to disperse, will be to be shot down in its tracks..." (Congregationalist, July 25, 1877, p. 236)  "There are times when mercy is a mistake". (The Christian Union, July 25, 1877.)

     As workers began to press for a ten-hour workday, the clergy argued that such a concept would leave the workingman too much time for "vice and dissipation", resulting in idolatrous and sinful behaviors. (Henry Vethake, Principles, p. 332-335)

     It's no surprise, then, that the religious establishment began to lose its influence with working men and women; and in fact, with whole families of workers, since child labor laws were still in their infancy or, where present, were poorly enforced.  Workers began to segment what they heard from pastors and the church.  When their sermons covered moral issues (drinking, fidelity, chastity, etc.), workers paid heed and counted them authorities; but when matters of work were addressed by these same members of the clergy, workers increasingly dismissed them as "disconnected from real life" or worse, as "agents of the mercantile class". 

     Alongside this increasingly hostile disconnect, a new brand of workplace theology also began to take root, a social Darwinism that suggested God was behind "survival of the fittest" economic principles, and that those "fittest", however they may have survived, were intended to survive by God.  In its simplest and most crass form, this meant that those who were wealthy and successful deserved their "harvest"; and that those who were poor also deserved their lot in life.  As the Gilded Age unfolded, some of the traditionally conservative Calvinist thinkers blended their view of election (God decides who gets saved and does all the work in making it so) into social Darwinism.  This produced a teaching that some believe Andrew Carnegie and John D. Rockefeller used to justify their business tactics: God decides who would be titans, and the more a "pre-ordained titan" could do to solidify his position, the greater the likelihood that social good, and religious righteousness, would result.  In other words, the end (survival of the titan) justified the means, even if those means were immoral, unjust or unethical in the short term.

     Carnegie, Rockefeller, Henry Frick and the other soon-to-be-tagged Robber Barons didn't hesitate to use this new theology to their advantage, and would often rally clergy members to speak out publicly in support of their strike-breaking activities, and to a lesser degree, their monopolistic efforts. 

     In some instances, like Andrew Carnegie for example, there appeared to be a genuine belief that if he could just reach a plateau where he had enough control, he could indeed make life better not only for himself but for the very people opposing him and his monopolistic efforts.  Most, however, appear to have favored a faith that saved them from the possibility of Hell but didn't interfere with how they ran their business empires. 

     Unfortunately for all concerned, the approach used by the clergy to engage in these workplace discussions was steeped not in careful Biblical scholarship but rather in applying logic and rational thinking to the realities confronting the budding American empire.  The fruits of the Enlightenment had moved into the pulpit, and "what seems right", "what the real world demands" and "what makes sense" trumped Scripture on matters both economic (and eventually) theological.   

     It was no small matter that out of Germany a new breed of theologian was also suggesting that the Bible itself could not be counted on as truth.  Mixed with Darwin's troubling theories and the emergence of information which appeared to challenge the Bible's own view of Creation, more and more people in and out of the pulpit began to believe that economic and business matters must be rooted in common sense and reasoned thinking rather than a dated theological treatise like the now-suspect Holy Bible. 

     With the so-called "common man" now taking a dim view of the traditional mainline Protestant clergy (Presbyterian, Congregational, Episcopalian, etc.), it is no surprise that awakenings and revivals in America occurred mostly outside those denominations, either in independent movements or in the more populist and emerging Baptist and Methodist denominations.  Even in those movements, there was a greater emphasis on evangelism and revival than on doctrine or Biblical worldview. As the nation moved west, its religion moved West with Baptists and Methodists more often than any other denomination.  While many souls were added to the Kingdom, the concept of careful Biblical interaction by lay people was slipping off the radar screen.  (For an excellent read on this, see Os Guiness' Fit Bodies, Fat Minds).  By 1890, the stage was set for chaos in work/faith thinking.  That chaos unfolded in a way that still resonates in the 21^st century.

     In view of this information, here are three present realities:

1. American government and economy were created by men and women intimately familiar with and readily accepting of the truths and principles of Scripture. Whether or not the founding fathers were Christians (most were likely Deists, not Christians), all of them had an easy familiarity with Scripture that caused them to write and think and create using principles espoused in the Bible.  This was true not only because so many of the early immigrants to American shores were religious, but also because the Bible was a fundamental tool in education and literature.  Benjamin Franklin, for example, was as likely to make a "shorthand reference" to an obscure Biblical figure from the Minor Prophets in his writing as a New England clergyman might.  Franklin could do so because he was confident that "everyone has heard of" the person he referred to, and thus it wasn't necessary for him to quote context and circumstance: His readers would naturally understand because of their inundation in Scripture.  Because of this easy familiarity with Scripture, it is not surprising that work and faith intersected regularly, and that work/faith expressions and writings were not uncommon in America between 1690 and 1880.  Recent New York Times and Wall Street Journal articles have pointed out eloquently that early American political and economic pioneers were either members of the clergy or were "raised using the Bible as their educational primers".  Thus to deny the influence of Scripture in the development of American democracy and American economic policy is ludicrous. This means that, for a significant period in American history, the opportunity for the development of a concrete theology of work was not only largely doable, but likely easy to transform from a theology to a creed with general acceptance.  That opportunity to blend work/faith thinking changed substantively for three reasons: (a) Americans gradually and increasingly became Biblically illiterate while also losing confidence in the accuracy, applicability and authenticity of Scripture (see Barna and Gallup polls regarding Biblical literacy); (b) As evidenced by the social Darwinism theologies described earlier, members of the clergy sought to make Scripture serve their perceptions of the realities or the needs of the present mercantile class or present economic conditions (in later 19^th, early 20^th century, they would do so on behalf of the burgeoning labor movement) rather than discovering and recording accurately what Scripture says about work and subjecting that to academic and theological debate; and (c) Leading members of the business or mercantile class sought to legitimize their actions and behaviors by recruiting clergy to endorse their behaviors, or by ignoring the rules except when it came to moral instruction, or eventually, to simply separate their working selves from their religious selves.  A more recent manifestation of this are the many books in the work/faith genre today written by well-regarded (and usually successful) Christian men and women in business who write about work and faith without careful Biblical scholarship and with experience as their guide instead of Biblical principles.

2. Biblical illiteracy remains the most significant obstacle to work/faith integration, and leaves us needing to spell out carefully a theology of work not only in language that connects with the traditional terms of the church (redemption, sanctification, justification by faith, etc.) but which also can be understood by present audiences unaccustomed to those terms and (more importantly) unaccustomed to regular interaction with Scripture.  Because of this fundamental Biblical illiteracy, particularly prevalent in Western culture more than Eastern presently, (but with Eastern cultures rapidly emulating even this economic byproduct from the West), modern workplace Christians have no reliable template/sieve through which to run teachings and writings to determine their spiritual usefulness and appropriateness.  Worse, the field of work/faith parachurch ministries is populated by startups conducted or governed by individuals with good intentions but no theological or Biblical scholarship, and no concrete plans to partner with someone who can serve this accountability function.  One of the more common errors that results from this is the exploration of key topics and issues facing business/work/workers today with an answer already in mind.  So a writer decides to write to CEO's on "Is Ambition Sinful", having pre-determined that he/she needs to find Scriptures which endorse the concept of ambition as holy and acceptable to God because it is acceptable to the audience.  While not every piece of work/faith writing is generated in this fashion, the absence of a competent, time-tested theology of work leaves the field wide open to such questionable field-tested, field-written how-to manuals.  A theology of work should never begin in the workplace. It must always start in Scripture and move from there into life.  Of more concern to us presently is the realization that even when good works ARE produced in the work/faith genre, they tend to spark genuine interest for only six months, and even when there's a general public awakening to work/faith realities, it tends to fizzle out in 3-5 years, only to be re-discovered again every twenty years or so.  A careful study of the work/faith genre will show that every twenty years a "Your Work Matters to God" volume erupts on the scene to awaken everyone to the idea that God does care about vocation, and then the banter dies down and the idea goes dormant.  This twenty year cycle has led seminaries, theologians, pastors and even serious students of the Bible in the workplace itself to dismiss work/faith ministries and writings as lacking substance or careful scholarship. So the tendency is to dismiss the field as a serious theological consideration, which naturally produces silence in the pulpits and the seminaries. So perhaps a better-stated concern for number two here is that work/faith scholarship has to be re-discovered every twenty years because of the absence of a Theology of Work.

3. Finally, particularly in the West, work/faith movements and their leaders have sought to gain ground among the intended audience (workers) by assaulting the local church and pastors, accusing them of not doing enough. God will not honor, nor will He grant harvest to, any field of endeavor that seeks to move itself forward by dishonoring the local church and pastors. Until we stop using them as straw men to gain approval and applause, we will not be blessed by God and we will not get serious consideration for our ideas and theology from the people who most influence the body of Christ. A theology of work must be produced without pointing accusing fingers, and without making the church the culprit for the failed scholarship in work/faith genre.  Pastors and pulpit time are inundated by an army of special interest groups declaring they aren't getting enough "training time for real life" from the pastor, pulpit or church. A theology of work must provide a bridge between the language of Scripture (which is the primary teaching responsibility of the church) and the language of culture (which is the primary teaching responsibility of those God calls to engage the culture directly, workers.)  It must seek to be a tool for the church when it engages its parishioners on work, and a tool for those very parishioners as they engage their workplace.