Twenty-one years ago, before social media, an American Airlines pilot went viral for his evangelism strategy. He had just returned from a mission trip with his church to Costa Rica. The trip had made a huge impact on him, and as he taxied the 767 down the runway at LAX, he felt God was trying to tell him something. He picked up the intercom to make his usual announcement to the passengers and then decided to add another message.
“Would all of the Christians on board raise your hands?” In the cabin, the passengers looked around to see if it was a joke. A few people gingerly raised their hands in the air. He continued by encouraging passengers to use this time to talk to the Christians on board about their faith.
But his bold move for God didn’t quite “land” how he had hoped. How would you feel if the pilot of your plane suddenly told you to get ready to meet Jesus? Some on the plane pulled out their phones to call their family members in a panic.
They arrived safely at the airport, and the passengers disembarked with a bizarre story to tell. The zealous pilot, meanwhile, was summoned to see his supervisors.
If you’re anything like me, you admire his courage. But you also might be thinking, There’s no way I could pull a stunt like that and keep my job. You’re probably right. Many Christians wonder what bold, faithful gospel witness looks like in a 21st-century world where religious pluralism is axiomatic. Rabbi Shmuley Boteach, a popular spiritual guru, famously said that calling someone else’s moral or spiritual approach wrong is the equivalent of “spiritual racism.”
Furthermore, Christians increasingly find many of their most cherished beliefs outside the Overton Window of what is considered acceptable public discourse. Sociologist Aaron Renn says that we Christians have now entered a “negative world,” meaning that not only has Christian faith lost its status as a societal foundation but also it is now considered in many places to be an enemy to progress.
What does Christian witness look like in this kind of environment? Is our only recourse culture war, heading to the polls to elect a champion who can regain control of the societal intercoms?
The apostles Peter and Paul give a different, and rather unexpected, answer. They command Christians in exilic environments to “live quietly” (1 Thess. 4:11, ESV). Peter uses the word “honorably” instead of “quietly” in 1 Peter 2:12, but he’s pointing to the same idea. “Live quietly” may seem odd coming from Paul, whose preaching provoked a riot in Ephesus (Acts 19:23–41), or from Peter, who boldly accused his community of killing Christ by wicked hands (Acts 2:23). But as Peter and Paul both explain, the quiet life sets us up for a loud testimony.
The quiet life is not about living invisibly, however. It’s about working for the prosperity of your city and pointing people to Jesus as you do so. Peter and Paul outline five components for “living quietly.” These constitute the daily objective for every Christian, whether we go to work every day teaching third graders or directing the operations of a multinational conglomerate—or piloting a 767. Our life in today’s Babylon, they explain, should be creation-fulfilling, excellence-pursuing, holiness-reflecting, redemption-displaying, and mission-advancing.
First, believers should seek to fulfill the creation mandate through their careers and calling. The initial commission given to us, after all, was not the Great Commission, but the Creation Commission. By developing the world around us and making it a better place to live in, we glorify our Creator. It’s no accident that the first time the concept of being filled with the Spirit is used in the Bible, it’s in relation to a man’s woodworking skills, not his sermons (Ex. 31:1–5). Testimony to Christ begins not with our words but with our jobs (Gen. 1:28; Prov. 22:29).
Second, we pursue excellence in our work. We do so not for status or applause but because our work reflects the excellence of the one we serve. Daniel had an excellent spirit, which manifested itself, he tells us, in both his diligence and his integrity (Dan. 6:4). Even the smallest task, Paul tells us, can become a testimony when done “as working for the Lord” (Col. 3:23).
Third, the quiet life reflects God’s holiness, setting us apart through our purity and integrity. We have an ultimate Master in heaven, Paul tells us, and when we live with fairness and justice even when no one is watching, it points others to his existence (Col. 4:1). Peter tells us to be holy as our Father in heaven is holy, which will make us stand out like bright lights in a dark and depraved world, pointing others to the living God (1 Peter 1:15–16; Phil. 2:14–15).
Fourth, our lives should display redemption. In a broken world, believers put the gospel on display through forgiveness, grace, and radical acts of mercy. Living this way doesn’t mean eschewing a free-market, merit-based economy, but recognizing that behind this economy—superseding it—is an even more fundamental one based on grace. Christians look for ways to inject radical displays of grace as a reflection of the gospel. We see this patterned in Leviticus, where God commanded the Israelites to leave the corners of their fields unharvested so that the poor could glean from them (Lev. 19:9–10). Our kindness and patience point people to the Cross, the ultimate basis of the Christian’s economy (Eph. 4:32).
Finally, our lives should be mission-advancing. As Peter tells us and the life of Daniel illustrates for us, living quietly opens doors to share the gospel boldly and loudly. Our ordinary lives become platforms for extraordinary witness (Dan. 12:3; 1 Pet. 3:15).
These principles are all applications of Jeremiah’s command to the Jewish exiles in his day to settle into Babylon, seek its peace, and help make it a better place to live in (Jer. 29:4–7). Living by these principles provoked at least two Babylonian kings to profess faith in the God of Israel and prompted a gaggle of wise men many years later to leave the regions of Babylon in pursuit of the Christ child.
Daniel and his generation offer a model for Christians seeking to live out bold testimony in an increasingly hostile, “negative” world. Consider: Daniel was so bold and courageous in his Babylon that he ended up in a lion’s den because of it. Yet he was so beloved that the king who threw him in there couldn’t eat or sleep, hoping against hope that he’d make it through the night (Dan. 6:18).
I suspect that the reason King Darius wept outside the lion’s den was not because he missed Daniel’s prophetic rebukes but because Daniel was his friend and he couldn’t imagine Babylon without Daniel. Our communities should be able to say about us, “We may not believe what those crazy people over at that church believe, but thank God they’re here—if not, we’d have to raise our taxes!”
There is a time for clear, prophetic rebuke—even accompanying political advocacy. As Os Guinness said, in a Western democracy, to not contend for God’s laws in the political sphere would be a “failure of citizenship,” because in our system of government, “every American citizen is responsible for every American and the American Republic.” But the tip of our missional spear is the quiet, remarkable, Jeremiah 29:7-fulfilling life.
This kind of life sets us up to offer a loud testimony, a testimony that cannot be marginalized or ignored. As Lesslie Newbigin explained, how we go about our lives and pursue our vocations provides the first dramatic contrast with Babylon.
I saw this kind of life exemplified by my friend Mike, who is the head of neurology at one of the United States’ most prestigious universities. Every year, that university sends him to medical conferences around the world as its representative. Mike finds himself in some of the least evangelized places on the planet, the special guest of communists, Buddhists, and Muslims. He opens every talk by explaining how his experience with the gospel affects his view of medicine. I asked him, “How is your university okay with that? They are, after all, not at all interested in world evangelization. In fact, they’d be downright opposed to it.”
He replied, with a twinkle in his eyes, “Well, I’m the top-ranked neurosurgeon in America. I can say whatever I want.” Mike does his work well and stands before kings because of it (Prov. 22:29). And when he’s there, he points them to King Jesus.
You may not have the same reach as my friend Mike. Or the platform of Paul, Peter, or Daniel. But you have the same tools at your disposal. The good news is, in the kingdom of God, you don’t have to be remarkable to live a remarkable life. You simply have to live the quiet yet counter-cultural life of faith, a faith grounded in the knowledge that we’re citizens of another kingdom with an all-conquering King. A quiet life that proclaims a loud testimony.
J. D. Greear is the pastor of The Summit Church in Raleigh, North Carolina, and the author of many books, including his latest, Everyday Revolutionary: How to Transcend the Culture War and Transform the World.
