When I got religion, I found some work to do to benefit somebody.

Hear, O children of justice and compassion, the voice of Sojourner Truth, a woman born in bondage who rose to become a prophet of freedom: “When I got religion, I found some work to do to benefit somebody.” In this humble yet mighty confession lies the essence of true faith—that belief without action is empty, and that the measure of religion is not ritual alone, but service to others. For when Truth found God, she did not hide in piety or dwell only in prayer; she found her hands compelled to labor, her voice compelled to speak, her life compelled to serve.

The origin of these words flows from the fiery life of Sojourner Truth herself. Born enslaved in New York in 1797, she suffered cruelty, loss, and injustice, yet she also encountered the power of the divine in her heart. Her conversion was not merely an inward experience but an awakening to purpose. She understood that religion is not a cloak for personal salvation alone, but a summons to labor—to work for the freedom of the enslaved, for the dignity of women, for the healing of a broken nation. To “get religion” was, for her, to receive a calling.

The ancients too bore witness to this truth. The prophets of Israel declared that God despised empty sacrifices if the poor were neglected and the widow oppressed. Jesus Himself taught that the greatest commandment was to love God, and the second was like it—to love one’s neighbor. Sojourner stood in this holy lineage, embodying the ancient teaching that faith must be lived through action, and that piety without justice is but an empty shell.

Consider the real-life example of Harriet Tubman, another woman of faith who, upon hearing the call of God, refused to rest until she had led countless enslaved people to freedom through the Underground Railroad. Like Sojourner, Harriet’s religion was not abstract belief but lived courage. Their lives together form a testimony that when faith burns in the heart, it ignites the will to serve. Both women remind us that true religion always benefits somebody beyond the self.

The meaning of Sojourner Truth’s words is thus both spiritual and practical: religion is work. It is not only hymns sung in churches or prayers whispered at dawn, but the labor of the hands, the sacrifice of comfort, the courage to stand against injustice. She strips away the illusions of hollow faith, reminding us that the true sign of a believer is not words but deeds, not ritual but compassion lived in action.

The lesson for us is clear and urgent: if your faith does not benefit others, it is incomplete. Whatever your creed, let it move you to service. Do not hoard piety for yourself while your neighbor suffers. Do not seek only personal comfort when the world groans with injustice. True religion will always compel you outward—toward the poor, the oppressed, the broken, the voiceless. In serving them, you serve God.

Practical actions stand before you: If you claim belief, let it be seen in your works. Feed the hungry, visit the lonely, defend the weak, speak truth to power. Look at the gifts you have—your voice, your skill, your time—and ask how they may benefit somebody. In this way, your life becomes a sermon more powerful than words, a testimony carved not on paper but on the hearts of those you touch.

Thus, remember the teaching of Sojourner Truth: “When I got religion, I found some work to do to benefit somebody.” Let it be your guiding star. For religion without action is like a lamp without flame; but when faith is joined to service, it becomes a fire that lights the world. And in such fire, hearts are freed, justice is born, and the weary find hope. This is the way of true faith, and this is the legacy of Sojourner Truth.