Klesis

Martin Luther revolutionized Christian thought by arguing that a cobbler's klesis was just as sacred as a monk's—that making excellent shoes was holy work if done in response to God's call. This demolished the medieval hierarchy that ranked clergy above laity and transformed how millions understood their daily labor. Before Luther, "vocation" meant leaving the world for monastery life; after him, it meant embracing your work in the world as divine service. Your spreadsheet or your spatula could suddenly become an altar.

The Apostle Paul deliberately chose klesis over other Greek terms for "invitation" because it carried legal and royal weight—the word was used for official summons from emperors and courts. When early Christians heard it in letters read aloud, they understood they weren't receiving a casual suggestion but a binding summons from the King of the cosmos. This wasn't an invitation you could politely decline with regrets; it was a draft notice from a higher authority that superseded all earthly obligations.

Here's the twist that torments career counselors: Paul uses klesis both for your unchangeable identity in Christ and your changeable social position. In 1 Corinthians 7, he tells slaves to remain in their calling if they can't gain freedom, yet elsewhere insists all social distinctions are erased in Christ. This creates productive tension—your ultimate calling transcends your job title, yet somehow your current circumstances matter enough to embrace. You're simultaneously told your work is sacred and that it's not your ultimate identity.

The multi-billion dollar career coaching industry traces directly to klesis theology, though often stripped of its religious content. What started as a theological concept about divine summons morphed into secular "follow your passion" advice by the 1970s, creating what sociologists call the "calling orientation" to work. Research shows people who view their work as a calling report higher job satisfaction but also risk greater burnout—because if God called you to it, how can you ever clock out?

English Bibles struggle with klesis because we don't have one word that captures both "the act of calling" and "the state of being called." Greek verbs naturally hold this both/and quality—klesis is simultaneously God's ongoing summons and your established vocation. This grammatical feature shaped early Christian experience: they felt their calling as both a moment of divine initiative and a continuous, present reality. The semantic collapse we experience in translation actually represents a theological loss.

Early Christian slaves weaponized klesis theology in surprising ways, using it to claim spiritual authority that their social position denied them. If God's calling superseded human hierarchies, then a slave could lead worship, prophesy, and even correct their master in spiritual matters. Roman authorities recognized the revolutionary potential: if a divine klesis outranked earthly station, the entire social order was under threat. The word became less about maintaining the status quo and more about asserting a parallel kingdom with different rules.