Working in the New Jerusalem

The state of Michigan has 129 lighthouses. Some sit atop a rocky coast or back from the water’s edge. Others rest on piers or jetties that jut out from the shoreline.

The Big Sable Point Lighthouse on the shore of Lake Michigan is just a few steps above a sandy beach. On a gorgeous May morning, I hiked out to it, toured the keeper’s quarters, and climbed the steps to the top of the tower. Then I followed the shoreline back to the parking lot. The weather was perfect—blue skies, light breeze, waves gently lapping the shore. In the middle of a beautiful day, it’s easy to forget why the lighthouses were built in the first place. A storm helps you remember.

I’ll never forget our family’s visit to the Au Sable Light Station on Lake Superior. The wind whipped our faces as we walked through the cedar forest to Au Sable Point. The lake roared. There were whitecaps as far as we could see. Seeing the violent waters made me realize how necessary the lighthouse was. Day or night it could offer a beam of hope to a ship caught in a storm.

We all know people who have experienced work hurt. In a span of one month, five of my friends lost their jobs. When I asked people to tell me a work hurt story, several of them asked me, “Which one?” So many people experience work as painful labor. It’s thorns and thistles, toil and trouble. It breaks their bodies and their hearts. They can scarcely imagine that God created work to be good. But what if our lives—our resilience—can tell them a different story about work? What if we can be a light to someone else who’s sitting in the darkness?

The New Jerusalem

A word of the Lord spoken through the prophet Zechariah gives us a glimpse of how this is possible. Alongside Haggai, Zechariah ministered to the exiles who had returned to rebuild the temple. A group of people, newly arrived home from Babylon, asked Zechariah if their religious practices—like fasting—should look the same now as they had in the past.

Zechariah didn’t give them a straight answer. Instead, the Lord spoke through Zechariah: Is that what you call fasting? The Lord had told their ancestors, “Administer true justice; show mercy and compassion to one another. Do not oppress the widow or the fatherless, the foreigner or the poor. Do not plot evil against each other” (Zech. 7:9-10).

Time and again God told his people that their religious rituals were meaningless apart from righteousness and everyday faithfulness. But they wouldn’t listen, and so the Lord “scattered them with a whirlwind among the nations, where they were strangers” (Zech. 7:14). Destruction and exile were their punishment.

Yet God didn’t dwell on the past and Israel’s unceasing unfaithfulness. Instead, he looked toward the future. He gave them a vision of what could be. Picture this: You’re old and gray, enjoying watching your children’s children play in the streets. The harvest will be plentiful. The wine will be sweet. I will dwell with you, and you, my people, will be a blessing to the nations.

God wanted this for his people, but they had a role to play. They had to participate with him in building this future. First, they had to restore their city. God told them, “Let your hands be strong so that the temple may be built” (Zech. 8:9). He gave them physical labor to do. But he also gave them the job of loving their neighbor well. “Speak the truth to each other,” he commanded, “and render true and sound judgment in your courts; do not plot evil against your neighbor, and do not love to swear falsely. I hate all this” (Zech. 8:16‑17).

As he had with their ancestors, God wanted this people to pursue righteousness, justice, and mercy. As had been God’s hope from the beginning, his people’s faithfulness would make them a light to the nations.

God gave the people a glimpse at how their everyday faithfulness could pay off. They could complete the temple and rebuild the wall. Peace and goodness could overcome the strife and discord in their life together. Their once desolate land could be fruitful again, and their worship could be filled with joy (Zech. 8:19).

That would cause the people of the earth to take notice. People from the surrounding cities would see something distinctive about the people of God. The nations would see God’s people returning to their ruined city, determined to rebuild it brick by brick. They would observe their everyday faithfulness and the undeniable presence of God in their midst. And the people of the nations would want a taste of that for themselves. They would come to Jerusalem to seek the living and loving God.

The implications of their faithfulness would reach far beyond the walls of Jerusalem. God said through Zechariah, “In those days ten men from all languages and nations will take firm hold of one Jew by the hem of his robe and say, ‘Let us go with you, because we have heard that God is with you’” (Zech. 8:23). Through Zechariah, the Lord gave this beautiful picture of the far-reaching ramifications of resilient people living in righteousness. The Lord’s fame would multiply tenfold because of their faithfulness.

When the walls fell down and they were carried off into exile, the Israelites could have remained in their grief. They could have opted for a different sort of life far away from home and far away from God. Yet God had a plan for the remnant who would return. Isaiah prophesied,

Your people will rebuild the ancient ruins

and will raise up the age-old foundations;

You will be called Repairer of Broken Walls,

Restorer of Streets with Dwellings. (Isa. 58:12)

They would once again flourish in the land, and they would find their joy in God (Isa. 58:14).

When work beats us up, burns us out, or breaks our hearts, we also have a choice. We can flame out or rekindle our fire. Consistent with God’s plan for his people to be a light to the nations, Jesus told his followers to be the light of the world. We can’t be the light of the world when we’re overcome with work hurt. Left untended, the pain caused by our work hurt can eat away at us, seep out onto others, and make our light grow dim. Yet Jesus doesn’t call us to be a flicker. He calls us to be a flame—a beacon to the weary and broken, illuminating the way to him.

Editor’s note: You can pre-order When Work Hurts by Meryl Herr here.

Dr. Meryl Herr

Meryl Herr (PhD, Trinity Evangelical Divinity School) is the owner of The GoodWorks Group LLC, a consulting firm specializing in educational program planning and evaluation. She previously served as director of research and resources at Fuller Seminary's Max De Pree Center for Leadership, where she conducted research and created resources to help Christian marketplace leaders integrate their faith with their work. Meryl lives with her family near Athens, Georgia.