Our Divine Work

“…My Father is working until now, and I am working.”

In my last post, I talked about experiencing true fruitfulness through the Father’s established rest, and that we have been invited to become branches dwelling securely in our place in the Vine. Resting in the place He put us, the Father makes us fruitful—not by might or strength of our own, but by His own Spirit.

Having been established in this divine rest we are now able to step into the second responsibility given to us in the garden of the heart—to work, and thereby fulfill Yahweh’s command in Genesis 1:28, to multiply.

But it’s not work like we understand it—not like the world comprehends or defines it. It’s an effort set apart from toil, trouble and futility. It’s a performance not scripted by the cares of this World, but is informed by the concerns of the Father’s House and directed by His own Spirit.

To get an idea of the original idea of work in the Father’s heart, let’s take a look at the word for work in Genesis 2:15. The word in Hebrew is abad. I found that the Strong’s Concordance has several definitions for this word (5647, 5648, 5649), but they’re all rooted in the original idea of work as a service. To serve and perform with respect of another.

This helps us understand the context of Gen 2:15 a little better. When Father placed Adam in the Garden to work it, He intended him to serve the Garden on His behalf. It was the Father’s garden after all, but it needed a man to care for it—by design.

This wasn’t an afterthought. It wasn’t like God created man and needed to find something for him to do, so He gave man a garden to keep him busy. Instead, I believe the original order of things was this: the garden was given a man in order that he might serve and protect it, and Man was given The Father in order to serve and protect him. The stronger serving and protecting the weaker.

Again, we look to the living letters that make up abad and reveals this understanding to us—the ancient pictographs of ayin, bet, and dalet.

• Ayin is the picture of an eye and means to watch, experience, and to know.

• Bet is the picture of the footprint of a tent and symbolizes a house or family, and is used in a similarly way we use the word “in”.

• Dalet is the picture of a tent entrance, which would have been the simple fabric flap brought down to close the opening. This symbolizes a door, and means an entrance, to enter, or move (as though a door).

When combining these symbols, an overall mean becomes something like this: watching in the doorway; seeing the family enter; knowing and experiencing how the house moves.

In this way, the ancient meaning frames up abad as a positional activity. It’s not just general work or performance. It’s service done from the vantage of a door, where the one serving can see the who or what coming and going through the entrance of the house, and gain knowledge not just on what is going on, but how to best serve what’s happening.

This concept was understood in the Hebrew culture. Those who sat in the opening of a tent or in the gate of a city had the responsibility and authority to serve the family, house and people of a city. The doorway or gate gave them the vantage point necessary to properly administrate their responsibilities and facilitate service under their care.

“Then the LORD appeared to Abraham by the Oaks of Mamre in the heat of the day, while he was sitting at the entrance of his tent. And Abraham looked up and saw three men standing nearby. When he saw them, he ran from the entrance of his tent to meet them and bowed low to the ground.” Gen. 18:1

We also see this illustrated in Proverbs 8:

“Does not wisdom call out, and understanding raise her voice? On the heights overlooking the road, at the crossroads she takes her stand. Beside the gates to the city, at the entrances she cries out…”

In these passages, we see the same theme of watchfulness from the entrance, and a informed responses resulting from knowledge gained through positional observation. Abraham looked up and ran from his entrance. Wisdom stands and looks out from the heights, and cries out to the sons of men.

In both cases, someone in a positional authority is watching and waiting to be of service for those in need, and this is what abad reveals to us. The Father’s intended “work” for Man in the Garden was to watch over it and attend to it for it’s own benefit. Not his own.

The Garden wasn’t put there for him. It was not his source—the Father was his source. Instead, He was put there to serve the Garden. Yes, he could enjoy it’s fruitfulness resulting from the Father’s work (not his own), but it was never meant to be a means by which he could achieve his own dreams and desires.

And this is a critical contrast that should be mentioned. Contrary to the Father’s original intent, work done according to the World is self-serving and ego-centric. It sets the self as the primary beneficiary.

And the World’s systems teaches man to leverages his own might and strength in order to secure for himself food and shelter, and to multiply his abundance by whatever capacity is available to him. Thus primary purpose of his work is to increase himself.

“…everyone did what was right in his own eyes.” (Judges 21.:25)

But this kind of work is futile and full of trouble. King Solomon called it vanity, and the abundance it produces does not endure. Instead, it fades with time. This is because it’s antithetical to the “work” Father prescribed Adam in the Garden and does not proceed from a place of fruitful rest.

But when our work is directed in the service of another, and motivated purely by the desire benefit someone else, we create an environment where the Father can multiply our fruitfulness and make us abundant. We see that perfectly illustrated in how Yeshua worked among men.

In one the most dramatic events of his life, he properly demonstrated abad through the miraculous feeding of the 5,000:

“Then Jesus, having lifted up the eyes and having seen that a great crowd is coming to Him, says to Philip, “From where shall we buy bread so that these might eat?” Now He was saying this testing him, for He knew what He was about to do.”

Immediately, we see a similar pattern seen in Gen.18 and Prov. 8. Yeshua lifted his eyes to see what the Father was about to do. Knowing the time and season—that the Passover feast was near, and having a intimate understanding of the Father’s work, He knew exactly how to serve in that moment.

What’s important to note is that the theme of rest is also present in this story, and it shows up just before the actual “work” takes place:

“Jesus said, “Make the men recline.” Now there was much grass in the place; therefore the men reclined, about five thousand in number.”

Rest must alway precedes divine work, otherwise it will not have its divine results.

Then came the divine work when Yeshua “took the loaves, and having given thanks, He distributed to those reclining; likewise also of the small fish, as much as they were wanting. Now when they were filled, He says to His disciples, “Gather together the fragments having superabounded, so that nothing may be lost.”

What an astonishing sight for those present to experience this work—the disciples included! Yeshua served the people in a way that that generation had never experience before, and sign and wonder stir the people so much that attempted to make Him king right then and there.

Of course, the people missed the whole point of the work, and Yeshua would call them out on it later:

“Do not work for food that perishes, but for food that endures to eternal life.” John 6:27

The point is, Yeshua demonstrated abad clearly to them, and to us. And through His example, I believe he revealed some important keys to do divine work:

• We must live within the entrance of our Father’s house. (In truth, Christ is that doorway.)

• We must always be watching for the work that our Father is about to do; watching to see what’s coming and going through that entrance, and pay attention to the Spirit at work in and around us.

• We must move from the position of fruitful rest, which prepares us to administer multiplication and increase along side our Father.

Yeshua’s life truly illustrated a work set apart from toil, trouble and futility. As He said, “For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.”

His was a performance not scripted by the cares of this World, but was informed by the concerns of His Father’s House and directed by The Spirit. Now, through our own relationship with the Godhead, this same work—borne out of rest and other-focused, has been given to us, too.

Next week, I’m going to return to this topic to discuss the multiplication effect that divine work can have upon our lives. Until next time, may the Father reveal His divine work in you as you continue to pursue the “you” He designed you to be!

Shalom.