Spring 2025 Convocation Address: "Your Labor is Not in Vain"
Travel troubles. Although they pale in comparison to those of the Holy Family, I have had some recently. Maybe you have, too, perhaps due to inclement weather.
Over the course of the Winter Break, I was meant to travel to Regensburg, Germany, a Bavarian city located on the Danube River in the southeastern part of that country, to prepare for the 79th General Meeting of the Society of New Testament Studies, which is scheduled to take place later this year—the first week of August to be precise. Such a trip is required of the Society’s executive officer, or Secretary, a position I have held since 2021 and will vacate at the end of this year.
Scotland’s favorite son, Robert Burns, penned in his poem “To a Mouse,” the now well-known lines, “The best laid schemes [or plans] of mice and men gang aft agley (i.e., often go astray) … and leave us nothing but grief and pain, for promised joy!” This was certainly the case regarding my recently scheduled trip to Regensburg.
Suffer me a truncated account of the saga, which my colleague and contact at the University of Regensburg, Prof. Dr. Tobias Nicklas, humorously described as an odyssey, though I am certainly no Odysseus. On Friday, January 10th, I drove from Waco to the DFW Airport on surprisingly clear roads to catch a 5:00 pm flight to Chicago. From there, I was meant to fly overnight to London Heathrow and then on to Munich the next morning, where I was to catch a shuttle service to Regensburg that afternoon. Because my flight from Dallas was almost three hours late in departing, I missed my connection to London Heathrow from Chicago by over an hour.
Since there were no later flights that night, it necessitated an unexpected overnight stay in Chicago. The airline wanted to route me the next day, i.e., Saturday, to Munich via Toronto and London Heathrow, requiring a six-hour layover at each airport and a late Saturday night arrival in Munich. I asked if there were another, more direct route. I was offered a flight from Chicago through Charlotte to Munich, leaving Chicago on the 11th at 1:00 pm, arriving in Charlotte at 3:00 pm to connect with a 4:00 pm flight from Charlotte to Munich to arrive early on January 12th. Although not ideal, I could still make it work, I thought to myself.
Hang in there with me. I am almost finished, and there is, I promise, a larger point than a detailed chronicling of my travel travails. The flight from Charlotte to Munich was an hour late in taking off, but it did take off. Not long after taking off, however, as I was settling in to read a NT doctoral thesis, the captain got on the intercom and announced that the plane was experiencing “mechanical difficulties” and would be turning around to land in Charlotte. Not ideal, I thought to myself, but better safe than sorry and better late than never.
Upon arriving back in Charlotte, we were instructed to deplane and to wait for further information regarding a new departure time. When the smoke cleared and dust settled, there was no departure time that evening. Instead, the flight departure had been pushed back until 3:00 pm the next day. Given that the flight would now not arrive until early Monday morning and that I was meant to return home on early Tuesday morning so that I could make on-campus meetings on Wednesday, I began to wonder if it was worth the bother, the expense for the Society, and the wear-and-tear on yours truly.
The airline put me up in a nearby Doubletree hotel on Saturday night, where I treated myself to one (though not two!) of their trademark, hot, chocolate chip cookies and watched the Baylor men’s basketball team defeat the Arizona State Sun Devils in overtime on ESPN+ on my Apple Mac laptop. When I awakened the next morning, now Sunday, I consulted with my colleagues in Regensburg yet again, at which point we all agreed that it would be best for me to forego my trip and simply return home, though I had begun to wonder if anything would be simple this time around.
When I reached out by phone to the airlines, a kindly and competent woman named Terri answered my call. Thirty minutes later, I had explained to her my to’ings and fro’ings, and she had canceled my reservations, arranged a flight from Charlotte back to Dallas, and processed a refund, which she told me would take up to two weeks to see on my credit card statement. (As you might imagine, I am on the lookout.) In explaining the reason I qualified for a refund, Terri employed a phrase, which was new to me, that sent me on a much more enjoyable and profitable odyssey. She described what I had experienced as a “trip in vain.”
That phrase, “trip in vain,” captured my attention and prompted me to begin to recall and reflect upon various Pauline passages where the Apostle speaks of the risk of this thing or of that occurring in vain. In writing to the Thessalonians, for example, which is arguably Paul’s earliest extant letter, he indicates that he had dispatched Timothy from Athens to Thessalonica “to find out about [their] faith,” for he was fearful that the “tempter” might have tempted them and that the labor of the missioners might have been in vain (1 Thess 3:5).
Turning to Galatians, given the congregations’ attraction to circumcision on the one hand and to the observance of special days, months, seasons, and years on the other hand, the Apostle admits that he is fearful for them and that he wonders and worries if he might well have labored over them in vain (Galatians 4:11). Elsewhere in the letter, he ponders whether their faith is futile, i.e., “in vain” (3:4). He also indicates that on one occasion earlier in his apostolic ministry he went to Jerusalem to present his gospel to esteemed leaders there to ensure that he was not running and had not been running in vain (2:2).
As we heard Dr. Kincaid read earlier, in Philippians Paul is concerned that the congregation hold fast and firm to word of life so that he might be able to boast on the Day of Christ that he had neither run nor labored in vain (Philippians 2:16). The Apostle conveys a similar sentiment in 1 Corinthians 9 when he speaks of buffeting and enslaving his body lest he, having preached to others, might be disqualified.
Throughout the Corinthian correspondence, Paul is altogether anxious that his ministry in their midst has been a prolonged and protracted exercise in futility. Not unlike the Isaianic Servant of old, to whom Paul appeals on any number of occasions, he is gravely and continually concerned that he has “labored in vain” and has “spent [his] strength for nothing and [in] vanity” (Isaiah 49:4).
The Apostle’s acute concern for the Corinthians’ spiritual stability, maturity, and continuity in the faith comes to full flower in 1 Corinthians 15, a chapter given over to instruction regarding the resurrection. There, Paul considers the grisly reality that some of the Corinthians might well have believed in vain, not least because they had come to believe, for whatever combination of reasons, that there was no such thing as a bodily resurrection from the dead. Paul maintains that if that were indeed the case then not even Christ would have been raised, and if that were indeed the case, then the apostolic proclamation would be in vain as would the Corinthians’ faith. Their faith would be an exercise in futility, a tilting at windmills, if you will, and they would still be in their sins (1 Corinthians 15:12-19).
Having said that, Paul is absolutely and unequivocally convinced that Christ had been raised, given that he had, among other things, appeared to any number of people, including Paul himself (15:5-8). Furthermore, Paul declares that God’s grace had not been extended toward him in vain, as his apostolic labors readily and abundantly attested (15:10).
As Paul brings his fulsome, impassioned instruction and reflection on resurrection to a close at the end of 1 Corinthians 15, he, with the aid of Isaiah and Hosea, begins to taunt death, asking, “Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?” Now that neither death nor sin hold sway, Paul can say, “Thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ” (15:55-57).
Given our victory in Jesus, Paul concludes the chapter by calling and admonishing the Corinthians, whom he calls, challenges and conflicts notwithstanding, his beloved brothers and sisters in Christ, to “be steadfast” and “immovable.” He exhorts them to stay the spiritual course upon which they had been set and to stand firm and be established in their received faith. They were not to vacillate or fluctuate, as they were all too wont to do. Theirs was to be, to borrow a line from Eugene Peterson, “a long obedience in the same direction.” Additionally, they were to abound always, perpetually and perennially, in the work of the Lord (15:58a-b).
Over the Winter Break, I participated in an annual conference of evangelical seminary presidents and deans, of which I am privileged to serve as president. On the second morning of our three-day gathering, Jeren Rowell, President of Nazareth Theological Seminary, where our own Dr. Jenny Matheny previously served before coming to Truett, offered the devotional. In doing so, he encouraged those present to conjoin abounding with abiding. If we are to abound, Jeren enjoined, then we will abide and remain in Christ (cf. John 15).
In his letters, Paul calls Christ-followers to abound in hope (Romans 15:13), in building up fellow believers (1 Corinthians 14:12), in giving to those in need (2 Corinthians 8:7), in love (1 Thessalonians 3:12; 4:10; Philippians 1:9), and in thanksgiving (Colossians 2:7). As it happens, Paul’s call for the Colossians to abound in thanksgiving was emphasized by President Livingstone in her commencement address to Truett’s December 2024 graduates.
Meanwhile, we are always to abound in the work (ergon) of the Lord (cf. 2 Corinthians 9:8), knowing that our labor (kopos) in the Lord (kyrios) is, wait for it, not “in vain” (kenos). If we are steadfast, immovable, and always abounding in the Lord’s work, then we can be confident that our labor in the Lord will not be empty, futile, and transitory. Earlier in 1 Corinthians, Paul indicates that on the Day of the Lord our work will be shown for what it truly is. Work done in the Lord will remain, and we will receive a reward for it from the Lord (3:13-14).
Elsewhere, Paul instructs the Corinthians that “we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each of us may receive due recompense for actions done in the body, whether good or bad” (2 Corinthians 5:10). Who among us does not look to and long for the Day when we might hear our Master say, “Well done, good and faithful servant!” (Matthew 25:23)?
Even as Isaiah 65 envisions a day where Israel “shall not labor in vain,” Paul maintains that those who labor in the Lord do not labor in vain. Unlike a half-finished project or a half-baked plan, your labor in the Lord is not in vain. As C.T. Stud once wrote, “Only one life, ‘twill soon be passed; only what’s done for Christ will last.” My hope this morning is the message that your labor in the Lord is not in vain will be a source of encouragement, especially to those who are weary and heavy-laden down (Matthew 11:28).
This is a good and timely word for us both collectively and individually. As a seminary community—faculty, staff, and students alike, we do well to do our manifold and varied work as unto the Lord, knowing that our labor in the Lord is not in vain. Individually, not least those who feel least, last, and overlooked in this and other communities and who labor away persistently and in seeming obscurity, “Do not grow weary in well-doing, for in due time you will reap, if you do not lose heart” (Galatians 6:9).
Before I take my seat here in a moment, I would be remiss if I failed to remind us of One who undertook a trip from eternity into time that was not in vain—the Son of Man, Emanuel, Jesus Christ our Lord—who came “not to be served but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many” (Mark 10:45). Though he was rich—existing in the very form of God as the Eternal and Divine Logos—he became poor—taking the form of a slave and being made in human likeness—so that through his poverty we might become rich (John 1:1-2; 2 Corinthians 8:9; Philippians 2:6-7). Having wrapped our injured flesh around himself and tabernacling among us, full of grace and truth, he laid down his life on an old rugged cross, becoming obedient to the point of death (John 1:14; Philippians 2:8).
Even as Jesus died, according to the Scriptures, he was buried and was raised on the third day, according to the Scriptures, for God would not allow his Holy One to undergo decay (1 Corinthians 15:3-4; Psalm 16:10). And even as the Second and Last Adam, the man from heaven was raised, those in him will also be raised when he returns with healing in his wings. “In a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet…we will all be changed.” The perishable will give way to the imperishable, the mortal to immortality, and death to life and vanity (1 Corinthians 15:44-55). Because neither Christ’s coming nor his labor were in vain, neither is ours in him.
Near the conclusion of last semester, I was privileged to be at a gathering in Houston where Wendall Kimbrough was leading worship, and our own Dr. Jason Vickers, among others, was speaking. One of the songs in which Wendall led those gathered is entitled what I have also entitled this address, “Your Labor Is Not in Vain.” Before singing together “More Love to Thee, O Christ,” and being led in a benediction by Dr. Vickers, I have asked some of Truett’s Chapel Worship leaders—namely, Ryan, Sarah, Ethan, and Ivan—to play and to sing “Your Labor Is Not in Vain” over us. It is likely that you will note several shared themes between the message and the music. That is intentional. Please let the song wash over you, enrich you, encourage you, and minister to you deeply. Your life, your call, and your labor in the Lord is vital, not in vain; it is consequential, not futile; eternal, not only temporal. It is seen by and significant to others and most importantly to the Lord, upon whom we fix our focus as the Pioneer and Perfecter of faith (Hebrews 12:2). Amen.