“For I know the plans I have for you… to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future” (Jeremiah 29:11).

How often have I shared that verse with my adult children in difficult times? I can’t be alone; I imagine that verse is embroidered on pillows on countless couches and cross-stitched on innumerable pieces of artwork. While I want to remind my kids to trust God always, I now realize I’ve taken the verse out of context. The Jews are in exile under a despised regime; they’re under God’s judgment; they won’t realize the fulfillment of this verse for seventy years. 

That’s not embroidered on those pillows. 

God through Jeremiah tells the exiles to “seek [Babylon’s] peace and prosperity” (29:7). What?? They must be bitter and angry at their exile. Other “prophets” (28:3,11) said they’d be home in two years (i.e., don’t get comfortable), but Jeremiah tells them to settle in for seventy years. 

Blessing will come out of their (and our) circumstances (29:10-14), but God’s plans don’t always align with ours, His “good” may not be what we were expecting, and His timing is rarely as soon as we like! In the meantime, Jeremiah tells his people not to withdraw. As Babylon prospers, so will they (29:7), so as a group, they’re to get busy working for the good of the city. 

What does that look like for us as a community of believers living as aliens within a larger community? We don’t have to be encouraged to settle down (29:5-6); we’ve done that well enough. But we do need reminding: we aren’t here solely for our personal benefit. We are to use whatever we have and gain to serve others for their personal benefit. 

The early Christians lived like that: pooling resources, rescuing abandoned newborns, caring for plague victims when no one else would. Likewise, we can pray collectively for our country, organize a food drive for the poor, adopt a school and provide supplies, invite for a meal those neighbors openly opposed to Christians, build a deck for a neighbor who doesn’t have resources. 

Christ sought us, died for us. How can we not pray for, serve, and engage with others, even those with whom we deeply differ? That’s what Christian exile looks like: “giv[ing] hope and a future” to others (29:11).

Since I have to live in the city, am I living for the city? As we seek the flourishing of Chatham County, submit to and pray for its authorities, our community will benefit, and we can get on with living godly lives and serving others, prompting them to ask, why are you doing this? Wasn’t that the goal all along?