Are You Doing Kingdom Work?
“Whatever you do or say, do it as a representative of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks through him to God the Father.” (Col. 3:17 NLT)
A recent poll discovered that 21 percent of millennials say they’ve changed jobs within the past year—over three times the number of older people. Only 29 percent are engaged at work—again, less than any other generation. They’re largely “checked out,” indifferent, and unexcited.
It’s not all their fault. Much of the blame lies with the economic reality of working 2-3 jobs; knowing jobs will change, so personal brand is more important; and workplace failure to engage.
The truth remains: more see their job as a stop-gap tool for making money, not as a vocation. They certainly don’t view a job as kingdom work.
Two women in Scripture show us the meaning work can have. Theirs is not glamorous work. It’s messy, frightening, bloody work. They occupy one of the lowest occupational rungs in their day, in terms of social standing.
Yet they also had the opportunity, every day, to offer comfort and bring life. They massaged the backs of women who couldn’t go on. They celebrated new life with giddy parents. They held the ones whose children didn’t live.
These are, of course, Shiphrah and Puah, the midwives of Exodus 1. They are there for the questions, concerns, confusions, and adjustments of family transition. They share the greatest rejoicing, and sometimes the greatest sorrow, of a couple’s life. These two have made their job their holy calling. They have done this because they have looked to God for how they can bring forward the kingdom of God by what they do.
Because they’ve made this kingdom mindset their constant practice, they are handed an opportunity to do something extraordinary in their ordinary lives.
Pharaoh, frightened by the growing numbers of “other” people in his country, issues them an order:
Then Pharaoh, the king of Egypt, gave this order to the Hebrew midwives, Shiphrah and Puah: “When you help the Hebrew women as they give birth, watch as they deliver. If the baby is a boy, kill him; if it is a girl, let her live.” But because the midwives feared God, they refused to obey the king’s orders. They allowed the boys to live, too.
So the king of Egypt called for the midwives. “Why have you done this?” he demanded. “Why have you allowed the boys to live?” “The Hebrew women are not like the Egyptian women,” the midwives replied. “They are more vigorous and have their babies so quickly that we cannot get there in time.” (Ex.1:15-19 NLT)
These women know their lives are at stake. If they obey Pharaoh, they live. If they don’t, no guarantees. Yet they clearly decided long ago that their vocation was to bring life, not death. Their purpose in life was to comfort, not bring distress. They found meaning, despite a low-level, unglamorous position, in becoming a part of the lives and families of the Hebrew women. Because they feared, and loved, God, they chose his side every day when they did their job.
They knew what they had to do because they knew what their calling–their kingdom work–needed to be.
Their defining role was to get people through pain to joy. To walk beside. To foster and prioritize life. These unknown midwives went about mundane, common jobs fraught with everything our jobs are, and they were heroes for what they brought to it. They saw their job as a vocation to accomplish God’s purposes.
Because of that, when Pharaoh gave his order, they immediately sensed that they have been given their jobs for such a time as this—to love their neighbors as themselves. They had the option to just follow orders, just do their jobs. But they choose to do their jobs with an eternal kingdom mindset first. As a result, Moses lived, and eventually, he overthrew the very government system that tried to kill him.
The statistics for millennial adults who have a deep, resilient faith, like that of the midwives, are markedly different than the average. Sixty-one percent are excited about their career path. Sixty percent believe their job is making a positive impact in the world, and 57 percent believe they are using their God-given talents in their work. An enormous 94 percent want to use their unique talents and gifts to honor God.
Many people find deep satisfaction in their jobs, but many other struggle every day to find meaning in what they do 9-5 (or 24/7, for some). Approaching what we do as a vocation, a divine calling, offers us a chance to see it in a new light. We’re able to view the choices we make daily, not as mundane chores but as opportunities to decide if we will show love through that choice or not. We can see our experience as training for kingdom work, not busy work. We will be able, then, to notice when the calling comes for extraordinary obedience in the middle of an ordinary day.
It seems that when we “fear God” as the midwives did, we gain a different perspective on how to go about our daily vocation. We understand that, whatever its significance in human terms, our job has deep meaning in the kingdom of God.
Scripture for Reflection
“Then God blessed them and said, ‘Be fruitful and multiply. Fill the earth and govern it. Reign over the fish in the sea, the birds in the sky, and all the animals that scurry along the ground.’” (Gen. 1:28 NLT)
“May the Lord our God show us his approval, and make our efforts successful. Yes, make our efforts successful!” (Ps. 90:17 NLT)
“Commit your actions to the Lord, and your plans will succeed.” (Pr. 16:3 NLT)
Reach for More
- In a culture where a job might change 20 times, what does it mean to see your work as kingdom work, a holy calling?
- How can we raise kids who value vocation over success?
- What does it look like to bring the fear of God into our workplaces every day?
is a writer, speaker, pastor, mom of three, and author of five books. She likes to travel, grow flowers, read Tolkien, and research her next project. She believes in Jesus, grace, restoration, kindness, justice, and dark chocolate. Her passion is partnering with the next generation of faith. Jill blogs at jillmrichardson.com.
Photograph © Thought Catalog, used with permission
