Back in January I wrote about a list I'd been keeping of all the reasons people give me for not walking in their calling. Somewhere down that list, below fear and self-doubt, sits a quieter one:
Is it righteous enough?
The train of thought goes something like this: "I think God wants me to X." And X could be anything. Start a business, become a teacher, make art, remain faithful as a paralegal in a law firm. And then, almost always: but is that really a calling? It's not ministry.
I remember having pages of notes for books I wanted to write, while still not believing that I should. I almost didn’t. In fact, I wouldn’t have if someone hadn’t convinced me of what I am attempting to convince you of now.
But just in case my story is not enough (no offense taken), this time, I want to answer this question through the lens of people who had the most reason to ask it.
In 597 BC, Babylon carried thousands of Judah's people into exile. Priests, craftsmen, nobles. The ones who were allowed to stay behind watched the temple get turned to ash, and the city fall into ruins. The people in exile didn’t have it any better. Placed in foreign lands under foreign rulers with foreign customs. They would’ve been right to ask, “What do we do now?”
Then Jeremiah sent them a letter.
"Thus says the LORD of hosts, the God of Israel, to all the exiles whom I have sent into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon: Build houses and live in them; plant gardens and eat their produce… But seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the LORD on its behalf, for in its welfare you will find your welfare."
Take a moment to let a couple of things in this passage settle in your spirit:
Whom I have sent. Not "who were taken." God rightly presents the exile as His own sending.
The assignment He gives them wasn't a temple project. It was house, gardens, wholesome communities.
They weren’t just to reside in these pagan cities, they were to be kingdom light within them.
Once you see God’s assignments through this lens, you start to see it all through Scripture. God's people kept ending up in places that didn't feel holy, doing work that didn't look like ministry. And God kept calling it His.
Joseph was a slave in an Egyptian official's house, then a prisoner, then an administrator. "His master saw that the LORD was with him" (Genesis 39:3). A pagan man could see God in how Joseph ran a household.
Daniel and his three friends were civil servants in Babylon, appointed "over the affairs of the province" (Daniel 2:49). Government work, in the empire that would burn Jerusalem.
Esther was the queen of a Persian king. Her whole book never mentions God by name, and it's in the Bible anyway.
And Nehemiah, our focus for most of this fall, was a cupbearer, then a contractor, then a governor. When his enemies tried to lure him off the wall for a meeting, he said:
"I am doing a great work and I cannot come down."
He was stacking stones, called it a great work, and refused to leave it.
Then there's the longest stretch of all.
After Malachi, there was no prophet in Israel for roughly four hundred years. Empires came and went: Persia, Greece, Rome. And through all of it, ordinary people kept the faith alive. Scribes copied Scripture by hand. Families gathered in synagogues and taught their children the law. Priests kept showing up for their shifts at the temple, generation after generation, with no new prophet to tell them it mattered.
Here's how the silence finally broke:
"Now while he was serving as priest before God when his division was on duty, according to the custom of the priesthood, he was chosen by lot to enter the temple of the Lord and burn incense."
Zechariah was at work. His division's turn came up, his name was drawn, and he walked in to do his job. That's when Gabriel appeared.
And in that same temple were two people who'd spent years being faithful in the quiet. Simeon, "righteous and devout, waiting for the consolation of Israel" (Luke 2:25). And Anna, an elderly widow who "did not depart from the temple, worshiping with fasting and prayer night and day" (Luke 2:37).
None of those four centuries of scribes and priests and mothers saw what they were preparing for. All of them were part of it.
"But when the fullness of time had come, God sent forth his Son…"
And remember: Jesus was a carpenter's son, and a carpenter Himself (Mark 6:3), before He began His ministry.
So, is it righteous enough?
If your assignment is a business, a classroom, a hospital floor, a construction site, or the same desk you sat at yesterday, you're standing where God's people have stood in every season. Through times of “milk and honey,” exile, and silence. Seeking the welfare of the city. Doing a great work. Holding their post.
And the vision God has given me — Kingdom Everywhere — is built on everyday people, doing everyday things, to the glory of God.
Your Next Move
Write one sentence: how does my current work seek the welfare of my city? Who's better off because you showed up?
If you can't write it yet, ask God to show you this week, and pay attention to who you serve.
Hit reply and tell me where you’re being sent. I read every one.
But wait, there’s more!
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