THE CALL TO GOOD WORKS
by Royce
“For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.” — Ephesians 2:10
This powerful verse reveals a profound truth about our identity and purpose. We are not random beings drifting through existence, but carefully crafted masterpieces designed by the Creator Himself. The Greek word translated as “handiwork” is poiema, from which we get our English word “poem.” We are God’s poem — His artistic expression — created with intention and purpose.
What exactly are these “good works” we are called to do? They are not merely charitable acts or religious duties performed to earn God’s favor. Remember the preceding verses (Ephesians 2:8-9) which clearly state that salvation comes by grace through faith, not by works.
Instead, “good works” in this context refers to:
- Actions that align with God’s character and will.
- Works that reflect Christ’s love and bring glory to God
- Service that benefits others and advances God’s kingdom
- The unique contribution each believer is designed to make
These works were “prepared in advance” for us — they are part of God’s master plan. Your specific calling incorporates your unique personality, gifts, experiences, and circumstances. No one else can fulfill your particular calling in exactly the way you can.
While we are called and anointed by God for specific purposes, we must remember the sobering example of King Saul. He was chosen by God, anointed by the prophet Samuel, and empowered by the Holy Spirit (1 Samuel 10:1, 6). Yet, his story serves as a cautionary tale.
Saul’s downfall came when he chose to follow his own judgment rather than wait for God’s timing and direction. In 1 Samuel 13, when faced with an intimidating Philistine army and Samuel’s delayed arrival, Saul impatiently offered sacrifices himself instead of waiting for Samuel as instructed. Later, in 1 Samuel 15, he partially obeyed God’s command regarding the Amalekites, sparing what he deemed valuable rather than following God’s instructions completely.
Saul’s impatience and selective obedience revealed a deeper issue — he was more concerned with building his own kingdom than God’s. He feared the people’s opinion more than God’s, and he valued appearance over authentic obedience.
This brings us to a crucial question for reflection: Which kingdom are you building — yours or God’s?
When we pursue our calling with our own agenda, timeline, or methods, we risk following in Saul’s footsteps. Signs that we might be building our own kingdom include:
- Impatience with God’s timing.
- Selective obedience to God’s instructions.
- Concern with human approval over divine approval.
- Prioritizing personal success over faithful service.
- Taking credit rather than giving glory to God.
Alternatively, building God’s kingdom means:
- Submitting our plans to His sovereign timing.
- Obeying completely, even when we don’t fully understand.
- Seeking God’s approval rather than human recognition.
- Measuring success by faithfulness rather than visible results.
- Giving glory to God for any fruit from our labor.
Take a moment to consider your motivations and actions:
- Am I pursuing the good works God has prepared for me, or am I charting my own course?
- Do I wait patiently for God’s timing, or do I rush ahead in my own strength?
- Am I fully obedient to God’s direction, or do I pick and choose what suits me?
- When faced with challenges, do I trust God’s sovereignty or take matters into my own hands?
- Whose approval do I ultimately seek — God’s or others’?
- When my work bears fruit, who receives the glory?
Remember that our calling is both a privilege and a responsibility. We are God’s handiwork, created for specific good works that only we can fulfill in the unique way He designed. But like Saul, we can miss our destiny if we prioritize our kingdom over God’s.
May we humbly submit to the Potter’s hands, allowing Him to shape us and use us for the good works He prepared in advance. May we patiently wait for His timing, completely obey His instructions, and build His kingdom rather than our own.
I want to continue this exploration of divine calling through another sobering biblical account.
Last Sunday’s sermon highlighted the story of Eli and his two sons from 1 Samuel 2. Their narrative offers another profound cautionary tale about squandering sacred calling. While Saul’s failure stemmed from impatience and selective obedience, Eli’s family demonstrates how positions of spiritual responsibility can be corrupted when we view our calling as a platform for personal benefit rather than faithful service in God’s greater narrative.
The account of Eli and his sons in 1 Samuel 2 provides a powerful illustration of what happens when those called to serve God choose to write their own stories instead of participating faithfully in His.
Eli was a priest of God, serving at the tabernacle in Shiloh. As a priest, he held a sacred calling — to represent the people before God and to teach them God’s ways. His sons, Hophni and Phinehas, inherited this priestly calling. They were literally born into God’s service, positioned to play significant roles in God’s ongoing work with Israel.
But 1 Samuel 2:12 delivers a devastating assessment: “Eli’s sons were scoundrels; they had no regard for the LORD.”
What went wrong with their calling? Three critical failures stand out:
1. They Distorted Sacred Duties for Personal Gain
Scripture tells us, “Now it was the practice of the priests that, whenever any of the people offered a sacrifice, the priest’s servant would come with a three-pronged fork in his hand… This sin of the young men was very great in the LORD’s sight, for they were treating the LORD’s offering with contempt” (1 Samuel 2:13-17).
Rather than honoring the sacrificial system God established, they manipulated it for their own appetites. They demanded raw meat before the fat portions were burned for God. They threatened force to get what they wanted. This wasn’t merely breaking procedural rules — it represented a fundamental misunderstanding of their calling. They saw their priestly position not as service within God’s story but as a platform for self-gratification.
2. They Profaned the Sacred Space
Even more egregiously, “Eli’s sons slept with the women who served at the entrance to the tent of meeting” (1 Samuel 2:22). These women had dedicated themselves to service at God’s tabernacle. By exploiting them sexually, Hophni and Phinehas demonstrated utter contempt for both human dignity and sacred space.
They treated the tabernacle — the very dwelling place of God among His people — as their personal domain rather than God’s holy ground. They were writing a story of dominance and pleasure rather than participating in God’s story of redemption and holiness.
3. Eli Failed to Confront Their Rebellion Effectively
While Eli verbally rebuked his sons — “Why do you do such things? I hear from all the people about these wicked deeds of yours” (1 Samuel 2:23) — he took no substantive action to stop their blasphemous behavior. As their father and as high priest, Eli had both the authority and responsibility to remove them from office, but he did not.
The Lord’s indictment is severe: “Why do you honor your sons more than me by fattening yourselves on the choice parts of every offering made by my people Israel?” (1 Samuel 2:29). By prioritizing his relationship with his sons over his responsibility to God, Eli was also guilty of writing his own story rather than faithfully playing his part in God’s.
The Consequences of Rejecting Our True Calling
The consequences were devastating. God pronounced judgment: “The time is coming when I will cut short your strength and the strength of your priestly house, so that no one in it will reach old age… And what happens to your two sons, Hophni and Phinehas, will be a sign to you — they will both die on the same day” (1 Samuel 2:31, 34).
This prophecy was fulfilled when both sons died in battle as the Ark of the Covenant was captured by the Philistines. Upon hearing this news, Eli fell backward, broke his neck, and died as well (1 Samuel 4:17-18). Their personal stories, which they had attempted to write apart from God’s purposes, ended in tragedy.
Our Calling: Participants, Not Authors
This sobering account teaches us a profound truth about calling: We are called to be participants in God’s story, not authors of our own independent narratives.
When God calls us to good works, He is inviting us to play a role in His unfolding plan of redemption. The priests were called to maintain the sacrificial system that pointed toward the ultimate sacrifice of Christ. They were meant to be characters in a story that was bigger than themselves — a story that began before them and would continue after them.
This applies directly to us today. Our calling as believers isn’t primarily about personal fulfillment or success. It’s about finding where we fit in God’s redemptive narrative and faithfully fulfilling that role, however prominent or humble it might be.
Reflecting on Our Story Participation
As you consider your own calling, reflect on these questions:
- Am I trying to use my position, gifts, or influence to write my own story of success and satisfaction, or am I seeking to play my part in God’s greater narrative?
- Have I distorted sacred responsibilities for personal gain, like Hophni and Phinehas?
- Have I, like Eli, failed to take appropriate action when confronted with clear wrongdoing, prioritizing human relationships over divine calling?
- Do I see my calling primarily as what God can do through me, or what I can gain for myself?
- Am I willing to accept a role in God’s story that might not match my personal ambitions or timeline?
God is the master storyteller, and His narrative spans all of history. Our highest fulfillment comes not from creating our own stories but from finding our place in His. Unlike Eli and his sons, may we embrace our calling as faithful participants in God’s unfolding work, finding joy in contributing to a story infinitely more significant and enduring than any we could write on our own.
When we align ourselves with God’s purposes, our “good works” — prepared in advance for us — become meaningful chapters in the greatest story ever told. They become not monuments to our own greatness but testimonies to the Author and Perfecter of our faith.