Japanese culture is widely recognized for its extraordinary work ethic, yet this same dedication often comes at a devastating cost. Many workers find themselves exploited by their companies, gradually sacrificing their personal lives: time with friends, spouses, and their own children. For some, work becomes the sole source of meaning and identity, to the point that losing a job, or losing the ability to find purpose in work — can lead to taking their own life. At the other extreme, Japan is also known for hikikomori — people who withdraw entirely from society, shutting themselves away from the relentless expectations and pressures of work and public life.
Both extremes reveal the same underlying crisis: when work bears the full weight of human identity and meaning, it crushes us. And when that weight becomes unbearable, the only perceived escape is total withdrawal.
How can the Christian faith speak into both of these realities, offering a way that is neither driven by work as life’s sole purpose, nor resigned to avoiding its pressures altogether?
The answer begins in the church, but honestly, the church has not always been prepared for it. Much of our theological and ministry training has focused on discipling people into the church world: lay leadership, programmes, and congregational participation. We have been far less equipped to disciple people for their work worlds. Yet the need is urgent and the stakes are high. Helping people in this area is not simply about career advancement, nor is it merely a means of increasing tithes and offerings. At its heart, it is about helping people discover their spiritual identity, experience genuine renewal, and understand their everyday work as participation in God’s mission in the world.
The realities of work, then, present both a profound responsibility and a remarkable opportunity for the church in Japan. And the Bible is far from silent on the subject. It calls those with power and privilege to work not for self-glory or to make a name for themselves (Gen. 11:4), but for the glory of God alone (1 Cor. 10:31, Rev. 21:11). It speaks dignity and worth to the exploited worker, showing that any job done unto the Lord carries a significance no human boss can grant or take away (Eph. 6:7). And it invites the exhausted and overburdened to enter into the rest that God himself modelled, a rest that is not escapism, but restoration (Heb. 4:9–10).
The church cannot, then, afford to leave this question unanswered: How does our faith shape the way we work?
The gospel reorients work from the inside out. When we understand that our identity is secured not by what we produce but by what Christ has done, work is freed from the crushing burden of having to make us somebody. We work not to earn worth, but from a place of already being known, loved, and accepted. This is not a small adjustment in mindset. It is a revolution.
For the overworked, the gospel says: you are not your output. The rest God commands is not laziness. It is trust. It is the refusal to believe that everything depends on you.
For the withdrawn, the gospel says: you are not disqualified. Work, even ordinary work, can be an act of love toward neighbour and an offering to God. Re-engagement is possible, not because the system is fixed, but because your worth was never determined by it.
And for all of us, the gospel reframes the question entirely. We no longer ask, “What can work give me?” We ask, “How can I bring something of God’s kingdom into the place where I work?” That shift, from consumer to contributor, from self-glory to service, is what faithful work looks like in the light of the gospel.
The church’s invitation, then, is not to work less or to work harder. It is to work differently. Rooted in grace, oriented toward others, and held lightly enough that we can put it down when God calls us to rest.
That is the freedom the gospel offers. And Japan, exhausted and withdrawn in equal measure, needs to hear it.
For further reflection
At a ‘Faith and Work’ sharing session organised by the church, two Christians, Yuko and Keisuke, discussed their respective struggles. Yuko worked for a major consultancy firm and was at risk of overwork, having come to equate her self-worth with her performance; however, by learning about faith and work from a Gospel perspective, she began to aim for a more light-hearted approach to her work. This was a way of working that sought to establish healthy boundaries, based on the understanding that ‘since my worth lies in Christ and not in my performance, I can let go of work with ease when God commands rest’. However, whenever an urgent project arose, she would immediately feel intense pressure to ‘prove herself as a person’ and ‘bear witness as a trustworthy professional who performs outstanding work as a Christian’; the reality was that she would inevitably be swept up in a wave of late-night overtime.
Keisuke, on the other hand, was in a state of escapism, trying to flee the harmful effects of labour, stemming from his previous experience working at a company where employees’ dignity was disregarded and excessive workloads were the norm. Although he was convinced that ‘human dignity cannot ultimately be measured by productivity’, he harboured a deep distrust of the prevailing view of work in this broken world, even after finding a new job. Consequently, he struggled to throw himself into his work and spent all his time after work and on his days off on his hobbies and personal relationships. At the same time, however, he was beginning to grow weary of the fact that nothing changed despite his continued escapism to avoid the ills of work, which is why he decided to give this gathering a try. Deep down, he was vaguely aware that he was drifting towards laziness, wanting to distance himself as much as possible from the pressures of work.
Yuko had gained some breathing space by working at a more relaxed pace, so she used the time she’d gained by setting healthy boundaries, along with her skills as a consultant, to help Keisuke with his self-analysis. However, as mentioned earlier, she increasingly found herself running late for their appointments due to her own overtime, and was often unable to focus fully on Keisuke’s concerns.
One day, when Yuko arrived at the meeting looking exhausted, Keisuke said, ‘Yuko, you seem really busy of late. I’m incredibly grateful that you’re helping me, but seeing you pushing yourself so hard actually makes me feel guilty... When I look at you, it feels somewhat similar to the pressure I felt in my previous job—that ‘if I don’t produce results, I have no value’. Even though we both know that our worth isn’t ultimately determined by our performance at work, why do we push ourselves so hard?’
Keisuke’s empathetic words forced Yuko to face the reality that, even whilst helping others, she herself had not yet been freed from the dual burden of performance-dependence and her pride as a Christian.
Their exchange did not provide a perfect solution to this reality. However, in their attempt to view faith and work through the lens of the Gospel, both of them began, little by little but surely, to be prompted to shift from ‘working to gain self-worth’ to ‘working because self-worth has been given to us’. They also began to consider the influence of workplace culture and contemporary trends, and the meaning of labour itself. One ‘third way’ beyond the polarisation of overwork and complacency might well arise from mutual support—where imperfect people, grounded in grace, exchange insights and resources with one another.
Author: CTCJ Collaborative Writing Team
In 2025, CTCJ set out a new vision to become a thought leader in the field of urban church planting in Japan. The Collaborative Writing Team (Co-writing Team) is one of the ways we are working towards this goal. The team is made up of a core group of staff members, as well as a number of writers and editors from diverse backgrounds, who work together to produce articles on topics that are useful for church planters, with the gospel as the foundation and focus.