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About the Book
"God With You At Work" by Andy Mason is a guide for individuals seeking to integrate their faith into their professional lives. The book offers practical advice and spiritual insights on how to align one's work with God's purposes, find fulfillment, and experience His presence in the workplace. Mason emphasizes the importance of understanding one's unique calling and partnering with God to bring spiritual transformation to the marketplace.
John Owen
John Owen’s life was incredibly difficult.
Born in 1616 and dying in 1683, Owen lived through the deaths of his first wife and all of his children, several of whom died in very early childhood. He supported his last surviving daughter when her marriage broke down. He contributed to a political revolution, watched it fail, saw the monarchy restored and wreak a terrible revenge on republicans, and lived in and around London during the persecution that followed. For twenty years he would have seen the decapitated heads of his friends on display around the city. He died fearing that the dissenting churches had largely abandoned the doctrine of the Trinity and justification by grace alone through faith alone in Christ alone; and, with Charles II about to be replaced by his openly Catholic brother James, believing that the English Reformation was almost over.
Owen was one of the most published writers in the seventeenth century.
He published around 8 million words. These writings included books on theology and spirituality, politics and economics, and ranged in length from the largest commentary ever published on the epistle to the Hebrews to a short Latin poem that has never been reprinted. For not all of Owen’s works have been kept in print. The most widely circulating nineteenth-century edition, most of which is published by the Banner of Truth, did not include Owen’s sermon manuscripts that are kept in various English libraries, nor the book for children that Owen published in 1652.
Owen was one of England’s earliest children’s authors.
The catechisms that Owen published (1645) outlined what he expected children in his congregation to know. These catechisms were published before the Westminster Assembly published its better-known examples. But Owen’s catechisms are in many ways simpler. The Primer (1652), which Owen prepared after the death of several of his children during the years of poor harvests and disease at the end of the 1640s, showed what Owen expected of an ideal Christian home. Its routine would be built around Bible reading and prayer, he believed, and his little book included sample prayers that children could learn to pray in mornings, evenings, and at meals. Owen argued that those who led church services should take account of the needs of children. Services that were too long, he believed, did no one any good. Adult believers should not need written prayers, he believed, and these should be banned from public worship. But children were different and needed all the help they could get.
Owen enjoyed many warm friendships.
His social network included many of the most famous writers in seventeenth-century England. Among his friends and rivals were John Milton, Andrew Marvell, John Bunyan, and Lucy Hutchinson. Owen fell out with Milton and became the subject of one of his sonnets. Owen helped Marvell publish one of his most controversial political pamphlets. He encouraged his publisher, Nathanial Ponder, to publish Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress. And he appears to have supported Lucy Hutchinson during her move into London, when she attended and took notes upon his preaching and translated large parts of his Theologoumena Pantodapa (1661)—a translation of which has been published with the title Biblical Theology. Owen’s letters reveal his kindness and care as a pastor, especially to mothers grieving their children’s death.
Owen was deeply political.
He preached to Members of Parliament on the day after the execution of Charles I, and pinned his hopes for the reformation of church and society on their efforts to transform England into a protestant republic. During the 1650s, under the leadership of Oliver Cromwell, Owen served on important committees that sought to establish a religious foundation for the new regime. But he grew dismayed by the ways in which the Cromwell family, and the administration they led, seemed to turn away from godly values. In 1658, he worked with leading army officers to create a crisis that, he likely hoped, would call the regime back to its earlier ideals. It failed, and instead created the crisis that was resolved by the restoration of the monarchy, the return of Charles II, and the persecution of dissenters that followed. During the Restoration, Owen kept his head down, and, as persecution slackened in the later 1660s, published pamphlets that argued that dissenters were the economic lifeblood of the English nation. But he was chastened by his attempts at political intervention and came increasingly to realize that his focus should be on things eternal.
Owen often changed his mind.
As his developing attitudes to political intervention suggest, Owen committed himself to some beliefs and behaviors that he came to regret. In his early years, he changed his churchmanship from Presbyterianism to Congregationalism. He innovated as a Congregationalist, installing as a co-elder and preacher a man who would not be ordained for several years. He argued for the weekly celebration of the Lord’s Supper, though it is not clear that he ever persuaded any of his congregations to practice it. He thought carefully about the end times and came to believe that, in the latter days, a large number of Jewish people would be converted to Christianity and would return to live in the Promised Land. He dismissed a great deal of discussion about the millennium, but became convinced that the binding of Satan had yet to be achieved. Owen changed his mind because he kept on studying the Bible.
Owen was biblical, through and through, and depended just as much on the Holy Spirit.
He certainly believed in a learned ministry–after all, he had taught theology at Oxford and done his best to promote godliness within the student body. But he also trusted the Holy Spirit to guide ordinary Christians in small group Bible studies that did not need to be policed by a formally trained expert. Aside from his own Bible study, which advanced on the serious scholarship represented by the three thousand titles that were included in the catalog of his library published soon after his death, Owen encouraged church members to meet together to study Scripture in private.
Owen trusted the Bible and the work of the Spirit after writing about both.
Owen was not a philosophically-driven, rationalist theologian. His writing abounds in biblical citations. It is molded and contoured by biblical revelation. But he warned that Christians could approach their study of the Bible with absolutely no spiritual advantage to themselves. Christians who approached the study of the Bible without absolute dependence upon the Spirit who inspired and preserved it would gain no more benefit than Jewish readers did from their Scriptures, he argued. Christians should never choose between entire dependence upon the Bible and the Spirit.
Owen believed that the goal of the Christian life was knowing God.
Before Owen, no one had ever shown clearly how Christians relate to each person of the Trinity. Owen described the goal of the gospel as revealing the love of the Father, who sent the Son as a redeemer of his people, who would be indwelt, provided with gifts, and united together by the Spirit. Owen’s Communion with God is among his most celebrated achievements—and no wonder. It is the exhalation of his devotion to Father, Son, and Spirit, and the discovery of the limitless love of God.
Owen is much easier to read than many people imagine.
There is a mystique to Owen—a widespread feeling that his books are too difficult and best left to expert theologians. But Owen’s greatest books were written as sermons for an audience of teenagers. Publishers have begun to modernize Owen’s language in new editions of his works. Now more than ever, it’s time to pick up Owen and find his encouragement for the Christian life.
to all who feel empty - invitation to the bored and disappointed
It was a small, flesh-colored growth on my cheek. The doctor said it was mild skin cancer and should be removed. But after looking at the biopsy, the hospital’s tumor board recommended a second procedure to remove more skin, to be sure they got it all. That’s when my fear started. What if the cancer has already spread? What if this is more serious than everyone is saying? What if it’s too late? At times like this, it’s tempting to seek comfort in being positive (“It will be okay”), in percentages (“Most of these cancers are nothing”), or in self-pity (“Why is this happening to me?”). But God invites us to a far better comfort: Come, everyone who thirsts,      come to the waters; and he who has no money,      come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk.      without money and without price. Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread,      and your labor for that which does not satisfy? Listen diligently to me, and eat what is good,      and delight yourselves in rich food. Incline your ear, and come to me;      hear, that your soul may live; and I will make with you an everlasting covenant,      my steadfast, sure love for David. (Isaiah 55:1–3) This invitation is for everyone who is emotionally thirsty and hungry, longing for peace and joy. It’s for everyone who feels bored, insecure, jealous, frustrated, impatient, disappointed, fearful. Fearful . That described me. So, God’s invitation was for me . “God satisfies us fully and lastingly by giving us himself.” And what does this invitation promise? God promises to satisfy and delight our hearts (Isaiah 55:2) with wine and milk and rich food (Isaiah 55:1). How does he do this? Not by giving us earthly comforts, since at best those give temporary, partial satisfaction. No: God satisfies us fully and lastingly by giving us himself . We can see this by comparing the beginning of the passage, where God says, “Come to the waters ,” with the end, where he says, “Come to me .” What God gives us is himself . Sit and Eat The prophet Hosea puts it this way: “Let us know; let us press on to know the Lord; his going out is sure as the dawn; he will come to us as the showers, as the spring rains that water the earth” (Hosea 6:3). We are dry, parched land, in need of rain. And God promises that when we press on to know him, he himself  will come to us with the refreshing rain of his presence. And he says this promise is as certain as the sun rising tomorrow. So, when we are emotionally hungry and thirsty, it’s like God is inviting us to a banquet table piled high with sizzling chicken fajitas and hot, cheesy lasagna and apple pie à la mode and fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies and water and wine and milk. All we need to do is come, sit down, and eat. But if that’s true, then why are we ever emotionally hungry and thirsty? Why do we get bored, or jealous, or bitter, or insecure? And why was I feeling such fear? Why Such Fear? We often blame our circumstances. We think we lack joy and peace because we didn’t get the promotion, or because our children aren’t behaving, or because we’re stuck in traffic, or in my case, because I have skin cancer. But God says there’s a deeper reason. It’s that we’ve ignored his invitation, and taken our hunger to what is not bread (Isaiah 55:2). We’ve turned from God’s table to the world’s table, which at best has an occasional rotten, mushy banana, a day-old bowl of half-eaten oatmeal, or a glass of murky water. That’s why I was fearful. I was ignoring God’s table, with its unshakable promises of everlasting joy, and was trusting the world’s table, whose promises were being threatened by skin cancer. And that’s why we are: Bored:  We are ignoring God’s table and looking for something exciting at the world’s table. But nothing looks promising. Grumpy:  We were hoping something on the world’s table would satisfy us, but when we sat down, it ended up being a dry, half-eaten cracker. Disappointed:  We’ve been trusting that something on the world’s table will satisfy us, but either it was taken away, or it didn’t end up being what we hoped for. Jealous:  We’re sitting at the world’s table but are not satisfied with what we’ve been served, and we think that what someone else was served would make us happier. Whenever we feel emotional hunger and thirst, we do well to ask if we’ve moved from God’s guaranteed, all-satisfying table to the world’s uncertain, disappointing table. Buy Without Money But turning from God’s table not only leaves us hungry and thirsty. It also makes us guilty before God, because eating from the world’s table is sin. And sin requires a payment of punishment, which is why God says his food must be bought (Isaiah 55:1). But God also says that we have no money (Isaiah 55:1), because we can’t make up for our sin by being good enough. “When we press on to know God, he himself will come to us with the refreshing rain of his presence.” So, if we are going to enjoy God’s table, someone else must make the payment. And two chapters earlier we read that this is what the Messiah would do: “He was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities” (Isaiah 53:5). Though we have no money, we can buy this food by trusting Jesus, who pays the penalty of our punishment by dying on the cross. God has given us the invitation, and he has paid the price. So, how do we get up from the world’s table and enjoy God’s table? Come to the Table Here are the steps God used to help me. First, I confessed my sin to God — that I had turned from his table to the world’s table, and I was fearful because the world’s promise of earthly comforts and long life was threatened by my skin cancer (1 John 1:9). Second, I admitted to God that I could not pay for my sins, and I thanked and praised him that Jesus fully paid for them on the cross (1 Peter 3:18). Third, I asked God to help me taste and experience how superior his banquet is to the world’s table (Psalm 43:3–4). Fourth, I set my heart on a few Scriptures that describe God’s banquet (John 8:31–32): Pleasure in him now and forever (Psalm 16:11). Joy unspeakable and full of glory (1 Peter 1:8). Life in Christ now, and gain when I die (Philippians 1:21). A heavenly, eternal dwelling made by God himself (2 Corinthians 5:1–4). Fifth, I prayed over these Scriptures, asking God to help me feel their reality and glory, until I experienced the Spirit changing and satisfying my heart (John 6:35). And that’s what he did. Over the next twenty minutes, I felt my faith strengthen and my fear disappear, as God used his word to give me a taste of his all-satisfying glory, which nothing, not even death, can threaten. Are you sitting at the world’s table, hungry and disappointed? If so, God is inviting you to his piled-high banquet table. He’s paid for the ticket, and is holding a seat for you. Enjoy the feast.