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If you’ve ever found yourself humming along to work anthems like 9 to 5, Manic Monday, or Take This Job and…well, you know the rest, you’re in good company. Scott opened with a lighthearted roll call of iconic job songs because they name the ache we all recognize: unfair bosses, low pay, long hours, little appreciation, the feeling that we’re just grinding out another week. That cultural soundtrack is familiar, but it also exposes a deeper question. What does God expect from us when our work feels unjust, unseen, or exhausting? In the In Christ series, this message—Working for The Man—turns to Ephesians 6:5-9 to answer it with both honesty and hope.

Pastor Scott Wiens began by reading Paul’s words to bondservants and masters, words that land in a complicated space for modern readers. Before applying the passage, Scott insisted we take the hard part head-on. “Bondservant” translates the Greek word doulos, a person under the authority of a master. In the ancient world, that status showed up in different ways—some people were captured in war or born into servitude, others entered service voluntarily to survive poverty or pay debts. However it began, many experienced harsh treatment and few rights. Scott did not minimize that reality and made it plain that any exploitation that forces people to serve against their will is evil. He connected the dots to the present by naming human trafficking as a modern form of slavery and said clearly that Scripture’s ethical framework condemns it.

From there, Scott addressed a common objection: if Paul speaks to bondservants and masters, does that mean he endorsed slavery? Not at all. He pointed to the way the New Testament as a whole undercuts slavery’s foundations. Paul names “enslavers”—those who kidnap and sell people—in a list of behaviors “contrary to sound doctrine” in 1 Timothy 1:8-11. That alone should stop anyone from claiming the apostle approved of owning people. Scott also reminded us that Paul writes within the church’s household setting in which both masters and servants heard the same Word together. That’s why the letter addresses bondservants directly—many had believed in Christ. In the gathered body, class and status lines were crossed, and that equality surfaces in Galatians 3:28: there is neither slave nor free; all are one in Christ Jesus. Then there’s the little letter to Philemon, where Paul appeals to a Christian master to receive his runaway servant Onesimus as a brother and, by implication, free him—not by command, but by gospel conviction. Taken together, these threads sow seeds that grow toward freedom and dignity, not exploitation. The trajectory is liberation through the equal worth of people before God.

With that groundwork in place, Scott turned back to the passage and its piercing practicality. “Bondservants, obey your earthly masters with fear and trembling, with a sincere heart, as you would Christ.” For Christians in a first-century house church, that line would have landed like a mic drop. It reframes the whole scene. Fear and trembling here is not about cowering before human power; it’s reverent seriousness before God. And “as you would Christ” lifts daily service into the presence of the Lord himself. Scott noted how that phrase also speaks indirectly to masters who were sitting in the room. If servants are to work before Christ’s face, then masters must treat them as people for whom Christ died. The instruction is gospel pressure pressing in on both sides of the relationship.

Paul then goes after motive. Not by way of eye-service, as people-pleasers, but as bondservants of Christ, doing the will of God from the heart. Scott lingered here, because it touches all the little habits that can rot integrity from the inside: faking effort when the boss passes by, playing politics for approval, grumbling in private chats, cutting corners when no one is looking. This is where many of us feel the Sunday-to-Monday gap. We worship with sincerity and then drift into a different persona at work, separating faith from our job as if God occupies sacred hours but not the office, shop, or site. Scott admitted he has struggled with that split and had to repent of the ease with which sarcasm or complaint slides into a Teams chat. The remedy is not guilt or image management; it’s a heart moved by the Holy Spirit. What Paul is commanding isn’t natural to a resentful heart. It’s supernatural—the fruit of Christ in us.

Paul also gives a promise. Rendering service with a good will as to the Lord and not to man, knowing that whatever good anyone does, this he will receive back from the Lord. Scott called this a doctrine of reward, and he was careful to clarify that this is not about earning salvation; we are saved by grace alone. But Scripture does teach that God sees and rewards faithful obedience. Some of that reward is future—God will honor what no one else noticed. Some of it is present—favor, trust, and a settled conscience before the Lord. In the first-century setting, Scott imagined that faithful service could soften even hardened patterns, winning dignity or, in some cases, freedom. In our setting, it can result in credibility, new responsibility, or simply the deep relief of not living a double life. Still, he cautioned, you may not be applauded. Working for the Lord can also bring misunderstanding or pushback. We are not serving for applause; we are serving the Lord.

The word to masters is equally bracing: do the same to them, and stop your threatening, knowing that he who is both their Master and yours is in heaven, and there is no partiality with him. Scott noted how ordinary it was in that culture to lead by intimidation. Paul cuts right through the habit with one stroke—stop the threats. Then he levels the ground decisively. Both master and servant share the same Master, and that Master shows no partiality. If you lead people, those words still land. Christian authority is cruciform. It doesn’t manipulate with fear; it serves with dignity and clear, consistent character. Scott even drew a quick parallel to parenting—threats without follow-through train people not to take you seriously. Leaders are called to do something harder and holier: treat people as image-bearers, explain expectations, give appropriate consequences, and remember that you are under authority too.

Under the banner of In Christ, Scott widened the lens further. Paul loved calling himself a doulos of Christ Jesus, and in Romans 6 he says we have all been slaves—to sin or to righteousness. That humility anchors a Christian work ethic. We are not free agents chasing our own glory; we are Christ’s servants, set free from sin to belong to God. That identity reshapes Monday morning. When you know your real Boss has nail-scarred hands, you stop scrambling for approval or strategizing to climb over others. You can do your actual job with sincerity, refuse the temptation to trash your supervisor behind closed doors, and return borrowed dignity to coworkers who feel overlooked. It is not naivety; it is the courage to live as if Jesus truly is Lord at your desk, in your truck, at the job site, or on the call.

Scott also spoke plainly about the temptations most of us face. Gossip feels like community. Sarcasm masquerades as humor. Pocketing a small tool or writing off personal errands on company time can feel like a payback for perceived injustice. When we live that way, we aren’t just bending rules; we’re compartmentalizing Christ. That’s why repentance is not a heavy word here; it is freedom. Confess the places where your work habits do not reflect your worship. Ask the Spirit to form in you what the passage describes—a sincere heart, good will, and quiet joy in doing God’s will. Scott shared simple, human moments too: caring for a coworker who was laid off, calling, checking in, praying with them. Those choices preach louder than a hundred speeches.

None of this works if it’s just behavior modification. Scott pressed hard against legalism because it will make you miserable and proud at the same time. The only sustainable fuel is love—wanting to please the Lord who already loves you. That desire doesn’t erase hard days. Some weeks you will feel like the shoeshine boy in the Johnny Cash song, doing a dirty job on a windy corner of a dirty street. Scott laughed that the boy sings, “Get rhythm,” but the Christian answer is better: get Jesus. Joy doesn’t come from an easier shift; it comes from a deeper Master. And when joy shows up in long meetings and longer commutes, people notice.

Scott closed in the same key he started: reality and grace. Some of you are already practicing this and know how challenging it is. Others are just now seeing how divided your life has been and feel the weight of change. Wherever you are, the pattern God gives is simple and sturdy—conviction, repentance, forgiveness, forward. You won’t do it perfectly, but you won’t do it alone. Write a verse from Ephesians 6 where you’ll see it during the week. Whisper, “I’m working for you today, Lord,” before you clock in or open your laptop. And pray for the Spirit to fill you, because none of us can live this out on grit alone. In Christ, even ordinary work becomes worship, leadership becomes service, and weary people become living witnesses to the freedom Jesus gives.