CAN THE PLACE WE CHOOSE BECOME OUR EXILE?

Philipose Vaidyar

We usually think of exile as being taken away from our land and captivity as being forced to live under someone else’s power. But what if we choose the place ourselves?

What if the place we chose, the life we dreamed of, slowly becomes our captivity?

What if the place you longed for, worked hard to reach, and once considered your dream gradually becomes the place from which you cannot easily escape?

Can a place we choose become an exile?

The Bible gives us some uncomfortable pictures of this.

Egypt was not always a prison

When Jacob and his family went to Egypt, they were not prisoners. There was famine in the land, Joseph was there, and food was available. A place had been prepared for them.

They settled there and multiplied.

Then something changed.

A new king came to power who did not know Joseph. The people who had once been welcomed became slaves.

The land that had provided food became the land that held them captive.

What began as refuge became bondage.

God eventually brought them out. He had not rescued them simply to make them homeless. He had a place for them—a land of promise where they could live under His rule.

Yet Egypt continued to live in their imagination.

Whenever the wilderness became difficult, some wanted to go back. They remembered Egypt's food but forgot its slavery.

They were out of Egypt, but Egypt was still inside them.

Then came Babylon

Generations later, Babylon brought another kind of exile.

Nebuchadnezzar conquered Jerusalem and carried many of Judah's leading people away to Babylon. This time there was no choice.

But when further trouble came, some of the people again looked toward Egypt for security. Jeremiah warned them not to go.

The temptation was familiar:

When the present becomes difficult, we look for another place to save us.

What about us?

We may not be carried away by soldiers.

We may not be sold as slaves.

We may not even have been forced to leave home.

We may have chosen our destination.

A young professional gets an opportunity overseas. A family moves to a prosperous city. Someone dreams of better schools, a higher salary, a better house and a more comfortable life.

There is nothing wrong with any of these things.

But another question needs to be asked:

Did I choose this place—or has this place begun to choose my life for me?

That is where modern exile can begin.

The captivity we choose

Many young professionals long to go overseas. Again, there is nothing inherently wrong with that.

The problem begins when escape becomes the goal rather than calling.

First comes the salary.

Then the apartment.

Then the car.

Then the latest phone.

Then the upgraded appliances.

Then another holiday.

We work to earn. We earn to buy. We buy to make life easier. Then we work more to maintain the life we have created.

Without noticing it, we can become servants of the lifestyle we thought would make us free.

The chains are no longer visible.

There is Wi-Fi. There is air conditioning. There may be a good car in the garage and a beautiful view from the apartment.

But comfort is not the same as freedom.

What did we leave behind?

The cost may be harder to see.

Family.

Parents.

Children.

Community.

Church.

Responsibility.

Some become so occupied with making life comfortable that they stop asking what their life is actually for.

A consumer culture can quietly reduce life to earning, upgrading and consuming.

Birds leave the nest when they can fly. That is natural.

But human beings are not simply born, raised, employed and released into the world to consume.

We belong to families and communities. We have responsibilities beyond ourselves.

And as Christians, we have a calling beyond consumption.

Where is our promised land?

So perhaps the question is not:

“Should I stay in India or go abroad?”

That is too simple.

The better question is:

“Where does God want me to live, serve and become the person He wants me to be?”

For one person, that may be Kerala.

For another, Delhi.

For another, Dubai, London, Melbourne or Toronto.

For someone else, it may be a remote village that nobody considers prosperous.

The issue is not geography.

The issue is what prosperity does to our hearts.

Egypt was not simply a bad place. Babylon was not simply a good or bad destination.

The deeper issue was whether God's people would trust God or allow circumstances, security and prosperity to determine their direction.

The real exile

Perhaps some of us are physically living in the place we once dreamed about, yet spiritually we are somewhere else.

Some are abroad but longing to return.

Some are in India but constantly dreaming of escape.

Some have everything they once wanted but have lost their sense of purpose.

Some are in the right place but are still looking backward.

The promised land is not simply a geographical location.

It is not Kerala.

It is not America.

It is not Europe.

It is not the Gulf.

The safest place is not necessarily the richest place.

Perhaps the better question is:

“Where can I live the life God has given me most faithfully?”

That may mean staying.

It may mean leaving.

It may mean returning.

It may mean going somewhere we never imagined.

The important thing is to know why we are going and whom we are serving.

We may choose our country.

We may choose our city.

We may choose our house.

We may choose our lifestyle.

But we should be careful.

Sometimes the place we chose can become the place that chooses us.

And sometimes the greatest captivity has no chains at all.

It simply looks like the life we always wanted.

 

MUST A CALLING HAVE THE SAME ADDRESS FOR LIFE?

Why We Sometimes Confuse 

the Organization with the Mission?

Philipose Vaidyar

മലയാളത്തിൽ വായിക്കാൻ

Santhosh is an orthopedic surgeon. He studied at two universities and began his career in a Catholic mission hospital. After several years, he moved to another mission hospital in a remote location, then to a medical college, and later to a Protestant mission hospital, where he continues to practice.

Would anyone say that Santhosh is not committed to Christian service because he changed institutions?

Probably not.

Doctors change hospitals. Teachers change schools. Engineers change companies. Professionals move for many reasons—career opportunities, family needs, children's education, aging parents, geography, or simply because their skills can be better used somewhere else.

So why does the conversation sometimes change when the person works for a Christian organization?

DID HE LEAVE THE MINISTRY—OR ONLY THE ORGANIZATION?

In some Christian organizations, when someone leaves, we hear a familiar statement:

“Mr. X has left the ministry.”

In Malayalam, someone might casually say, “Sam ministry vittu poyi.”

But did he really leave the ministry?

Or did he leave that particular organization?

Those are not necessarily the same thing.

Perhaps we need to ask a more fundamental question:

Are we called to an organization, or are we called to serve God?

A mission organization may be doing valuable work for God's Kingdom, but it is still a human institution—started by an individual, a group, a denomination, or even a family. It can be faithful and fruitful, but it can also have weaknesses, changing priorities and imperfect leadership.

So why should joining one organization mean permanently belonging to it?

WHEN COMMITMENT BECOMES PERMANENT ATTACHMENT

There is sometimes an unspoken expectation that once someone joins a Christian organization, he should stay until retirement—or even until death.

His commitment is measured by how long he remains.

If he leaves, people wonder:

“Was he really committed?”

“Did he lose his vision?”

“Was he called in the first place?”

And eventually comes the label:

“He is a rolling stone.”

But is permanence the same as faithfulness?

If someone serves faithfully for fifteen years and then moves because of family circumstances, has his calling suddenly disappeared?

And if someone stays for thirty years but becomes merely comfortable and unproductive, is that automatically greater faithfulness?

Perhaps length of service and faithfulness are not the same thing.

A GIFT SHOULD NOT BECOME A CHAIN

Suppose someone gives you ₹500 without your asking. You receive it gratefully. Does that mean you now owe that person your loyalty for the rest of your life?

Of course not.

The gift was given freely.

The same principle should apply to Christian giving and support. If an organization provides a salary, allowance, training, scholarship, or other assistance for the Lord's work, the recipient should be accountable for using it faithfully and doing the work entrusted to him.

But he does not become permanently indebted to the organization.

“If you give for the Lord's work, give it to the Lord.”

Give freely. Expect honesty, diligence and commitment in return. But do not turn generosity into an invisible chain.

The person receiving your support also has a calling, a family, children, parents, gifts and responsibilities.

Let that person continue his or her journey of faith, just as you continue yours.

PEOPLE ARE NOT POSTERS ON A WALL

This is where we should be especially careful in judging people who leave.

We hear only the announcement:

“Mr. X has left.”

But do we know the story?

Did we spend an hour listening to him?

Did we ask about his children, spouse or aging parents?

Did we understand his geographical or professional situation?

Did we know whether his gifts were being fully used?

Did we pray with him before judging him?

If we have not taken the time to understand someone, why should we be so quick to explain his motives?

Sometimes we treat people like posters on a wall—fixed in the place where we first saw them.

But people are not posters.

They grow. They learn. They mature. Their circumstances change. Their gifts develop.

The person who joined your organization ten years ago may not be the same person today.

Why should we insist that he remain inside the frame in which we first knew him?

WHAT ABOUT PASTORS?

Pastors are a somewhat different case. Their relationship with a church involves spiritual responsibility and a particular calling to a congregation or denomination. Yet even pastors may move when they are called elsewhere, transferred, or when circumstances change.

So even there, perhaps the better question is not simply, “How long did he stay?”

It is:

“Was he faithful to what God entrusted to him while he was there?”

ARE WE PROTECTING THE MISSION—OR THE INSTITUTION?

Christian organizations are instruments of God's mission. They are not God's Kingdom itself.

If a doctor leaves one Christian hospital and joins another, has Christian medicine lost a servant—or has the Kingdom gained another place where that servant can work?

If a teacher moves from one Christian school to another, has the calling disappeared?

If a Christian professional moves to another organization because of family, geography or a better opportunity to use his gifts, why must that be interpreted as spiritual failure?

Perhaps we sometimes confuse our organization with God's mission.

Of course, people should not leave irresponsibly. Commitment matters. Responsibilities should be honored. People who depend on us should not be abandoned for every attractive opportunity.

But neither should an organization demand lifelong emotional and institutional ownership of someone simply because that person once joined it.

And leaders may need to learn to release people without resentment.

Someone's departure may hurt. It may create genuine difficulties. But disappointment does not give us the right to judge the person's calling.

Perhaps another organization needs his skills.

Perhaps another place suits his family.

Perhaps another season of ministry has opened.

Let him press on in faith in his trail, just as you press on in yours.

A BETTER MEASURE OF FAITHFULNESS

Perhaps we should ask fewer questions about how long someone stayed and more about how faithfully he served while he was there.

Did he give his best?

Did he fulfill his responsibilities?

Did he serve people with integrity?

Did he develop others?

Did he leave responsibly?

And did he continue serving after he left?

These questions may tell us more about commitment than the number of years on a résumé.

Santhosh's career illustrates the point. The hospital changed. The location changed. The institution changed. Even the denominational setting changed.

But the work of healing continued.

Perhaps Christian service can be like that.

The place may change. The calling may remain.

So before calling someone a “rolling stone,” perhaps we should pause.

Maybe he has not abandoned the road.

Maybe he has simply been called to walk a different stretch of it.

And perhaps our task is not to hold people in our organization forever, but to thank God for the years they served with us, bless them as they move on, and pray that wherever they go, they will continue to serve the same Lord.

The Kingdom of God is bigger than any one organization.

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