What if your job isn’t your calling?
Scratch that — what if your job actually is your calling, even if it doesn’t feel “spiritual” enough?
That’s the quiet struggle playing out in the minds of a lot of young Christians. A recent Barna study found that only one in three twentysomethings say they’re living out their purpose. Add to that a historically tough job market and the pressure to “change the world” before you turn 30, and you’ve got a generation stuck in career paralysis — constantly second-guessing whether their job is meaningful enough, holy enough or God-approved enough.
For some, this tension leads to dramatic life shifts — like switching majors after a spiritual high, leaving stable careers for ministry roles or quitting altogether because no job feels satisfying enough to count as “God’s will.”
But pastor and author Tim Keller, in his book Every Good Endeavor, argued that this whole framework might be off.
Keller defined work as “rearranging the raw material of God’s creation for the purpose of human flourishing.” In other words, your purpose isn’t just about what you do — it’s about why you do it and how it reflects the character of God. “The Bible begins talking about work as soon as it begins talking about anything,” he wrote. “That is how important and basic it is.”
In Genesis, the first verb attributed to God is a work verb: He created. Then in Genesis 2:15, God gives humanity its first job — to cultivate and care for the garden. Keller used this moment to argue for the inherent dignity of work — not just ministry work, but all honest labor. “Work has dignity,” he wrote, “because it is something that God does and because we do it in God’s place, as his representatives.”
That includes ministry. But it also includes architecture, teaching, food service, finance, logistics and tech. It includes repairing HVAC systems and writing ad copy. The work matters not because of how explicitly spiritual it appears, but because of the one it reflects.
Too many of us were raised to believe that there are two categories of work: the kind that “really matters” to God — missions, nonprofit jobs, full-time ministry — and then everything else. Either you’re saving souls or you’re wasting your potential. But Keller pushed back against that false hierarchy. He saw it as a distortion of both Scripture and grace. He wrote that many Christians fall into one of two traps: They either chase status and stability, trying to earn the approval of others, or they try to earn God’s favor by picking the “most spiritual” job they can find. In both cases, the work becomes a way to justify your existence. And in both cases, burnout is never far behind.
But if all work done with integrity reflects God’s design and brings order out of chaos, then your calling doesn’t hinge on how ministry-adjacent your job looks. It hinges on how faithfully you engage with it.
Keller illustrated this with a surprisingly sacred example: dinner. When you thank God for a meal, you’re not thanking him for beaming food down from the clouds. You’re thanking him for working through farmers, truckers, grocery store workers and refrigeration engineers — all of whom played a part in getting that food to your table. Each of them, knowingly or not, became agents of God’s provision.
By that logic, the person cleaning an office or processing invoices is no less a participant in God’s care for the world than the person preaching from a pulpit. Keller believed all honest labor — whether it’s bookkeeping or counseling or customer service — demonstrates the image of God at work in his creation. As long as the work doesn’t exploit or harm, it can be sacred.
That view reshapes how we think about spiritual calling. You don’t have to leave your job to be used by God. You don’t have to work at a church to live out your purpose. You just have to do your work faithfully, ethically and with the intention of participating in God’s ongoing renewal of the world.
Of course, not every job is perfect — ministry included. And not every workplace feels like a mission field. But Keller believed part of being a Spirit-filled person meant being a redemptive presence wherever you’re placed. Whether it’s in a break room or a boardroom, you carry the presence of Christ with you. You don’t need a title change to live missionally.
This means your job has value even if you never lead a coworker to Christ, even if your work doesn’t result in a viral testimony or massive donation to charity. Its value doesn’t come from metrics. It comes from bearing God’s image.
Keller’s theology broke down the wall between the pulpit and the payroll. He believed both ministry and marketplace jobs belong to the same bigger category: God’s work. And in the kingdom, there’s no room for competition between callings. As Keller saw it, the eye can’t say to the hand, “I have no need of you,” and the same goes for the nonprofit director and the UX designer. They’re both participating in something sacred. They’re both needed.
If you’ve been stuck in a spiral, wondering if your work is meaningful enough to count as your calling, you can stop. Your job doesn’t have to be overtly spiritual to be used by God. It just has to be honest. It just has to contribute to human flourishing. It just has to be done in a way that reflects the kingdom. You don’t have to become a pastor to do ministry. You don’t have to quit your job to have a calling. You just have to show up every day and do your work with integrity, compassion and courage.
That’s more than enough. And that’s exactly what God had in mind.
