In 1995, when I first began to explore my "calling" to ministry, I had to admit that I was extremely distrustful of the process of vocation. I recall, as part of that process, telling my mentor -- herself a theologian and pastor in the Church -- that self-appointed preachers and prophets are a dime a dozen. In election years, we hear a lot of wind being blown that this or that candidate are God's answers to whatever pressing issue seems to make the daily headline.
So there's no shortage of people who can claim God's "call".
When I bump up against those call narratives in Scripture -- this weekend it's Jeremiah 1.4-10 -- I'm reminded again of the process that was my call to ministry, and how much Jeremiah has shaped what I think the pastoral ministry is.
All thanks to one of my college Old Testament profs, Dr Biddle. In my Old Testament theology class as an undergrad, Dr Biddle introduced me to Jeremiah the prophet. He recommended Eugene Peterson's Run with the Horses: The Quest for Life at Its Best. That little book, though I didn't realize it at the time, brought the old prophet to life before my eyes, and Jeremiah has been a mentor and patron saint ever since.
Jeremiah 1 is Jeremiah's "call story". And in it, I note that Jeremiah wasn't being summoned to high office, to a bigger church with a more acceptable salary, or even to "successful" ministry. Jeremiah was called to be faithful in a ministry in which he would never see much "fruit". Jeremiah would never see much appreciable change in the people to whom he was sent.
Instead, Jeremiah would be ridiculed, thrown into a pit, targeted for assassination. He seemed prone to mood swings and cried a lot. (Ever read Lamentations?) Annihilation hung over the heads of the people, and Jeremiah's desperate efforts to bring God's people to repentance seemed doomed to failure; the words of Jeremiah 2-4 still bring tears to my eyes. The people refused to listen and Jeremiah stood by helplessly as Judah was cut to pieces and carried off into exile. Jeremiah's ending was not a happy one either. He was shipped off into Egyptian exile. And that's the last we know of Jeremiah's story, except for this -- he was faithful to God's call, from start to finish.
Jeremiah taught me the most important lesson of my ministry: That "being called" doesn't guarantee that we will have any idea what success or failure actually looks like.
And then I think of all those seminary students who begin their studies this month. I think of all those newly-ordained seminary graduates from last spring and this summer. Living lives as they plug away in institutions, jobs, congregations. I think of pastors as they doctor souls, as they pray for others, as they push back against the darkness, as they give themselves to others. Some of them quite probably even feel assured in what they do. I never have. I've struggled mightily in every place to know I'm in the right place. God's call to me has been anything but comforting. That's why Jeremiah's "call" has spoken all the more to me over the years. From Jeremiah, I've heard:
"Before I formed you, I knew you ..." God knows me. Peterson says in his little book that way before we started wondering what God was up to, God was already thinking about what we would be up to. "Long before we (started) asking questions about God, God has been questioning us. Long before we became interested in the subject of God, God subjected us to the most intensive and searching knowledge -- We are known before we know ... My identity does not begin when I begin to understand myself. There is something previous to what I think about myself, and it is what God thinks of me. That means that everything I think and feel is by nature a response, and the one to whom I respond is God. I never speak the first word. I never make the first move".
"Before you were born, I set you apart; I consecrated you ..." God told Jeremiah, (and tells us) that we have been chosen. We are a consecrated people. When I read Jeremiah 1, I have to remind myself that we have long been on God's mind and how we live our life is known and valued by God. In mysterious and sometimes hidden ways God has led us to the place we find ourselves. We belong to God, and God's hand is upon us.
"I appointed you a prophet to the nations ..." I really wish sometimes he hadn't. But he has. God still sends people like Jeremiah (namely you and me!) to be lights in our corners of creation, in those dark places where the world gropes around for direction. God sends people -- mothers and fathers, kids and grandparents, singles and couples, teachers and builders, peace makers, farmers, healers, musicians, willing servants -- out into the world to incarnate the amazing message that God loves the world and longs to see all that is broken put back together.
Dear Church: That is us. You are known. You have been consecrated. You have been appointed to go, to speak, to love, to serve.
So there's no shortage of people who can claim God's "call".
When I bump up against those call narratives in Scripture -- this weekend it's Jeremiah 1.4-10 -- I'm reminded again of the process that was my call to ministry, and how much Jeremiah has shaped what I think the pastoral ministry is.
All thanks to one of my college Old Testament profs, Dr Biddle. In my Old Testament theology class as an undergrad, Dr Biddle introduced me to Jeremiah the prophet. He recommended Eugene Peterson's Run with the Horses: The Quest for Life at Its Best. That little book, though I didn't realize it at the time, brought the old prophet to life before my eyes, and Jeremiah has been a mentor and patron saint ever since.
Jeremiah 1 is Jeremiah's "call story". And in it, I note that Jeremiah wasn't being summoned to high office, to a bigger church with a more acceptable salary, or even to "successful" ministry. Jeremiah was called to be faithful in a ministry in which he would never see much "fruit". Jeremiah would never see much appreciable change in the people to whom he was sent.
Instead, Jeremiah would be ridiculed, thrown into a pit, targeted for assassination. He seemed prone to mood swings and cried a lot. (Ever read Lamentations?) Annihilation hung over the heads of the people, and Jeremiah's desperate efforts to bring God's people to repentance seemed doomed to failure; the words of Jeremiah 2-4 still bring tears to my eyes. The people refused to listen and Jeremiah stood by helplessly as Judah was cut to pieces and carried off into exile. Jeremiah's ending was not a happy one either. He was shipped off into Egyptian exile. And that's the last we know of Jeremiah's story, except for this -- he was faithful to God's call, from start to finish.
Jeremiah taught me the most important lesson of my ministry: That "being called" doesn't guarantee that we will have any idea what success or failure actually looks like.
And then I think of all those seminary students who begin their studies this month. I think of all those newly-ordained seminary graduates from last spring and this summer. Living lives as they plug away in institutions, jobs, congregations. I think of pastors as they doctor souls, as they pray for others, as they push back against the darkness, as they give themselves to others. Some of them quite probably even feel assured in what they do. I never have. I've struggled mightily in every place to know I'm in the right place. God's call to me has been anything but comforting. That's why Jeremiah's "call" has spoken all the more to me over the years. From Jeremiah, I've heard:
"Before I formed you, I knew you ..." God knows me. Peterson says in his little book that way before we started wondering what God was up to, God was already thinking about what we would be up to. "Long before we (started) asking questions about God, God has been questioning us. Long before we became interested in the subject of God, God subjected us to the most intensive and searching knowledge -- We are known before we know ... My identity does not begin when I begin to understand myself. There is something previous to what I think about myself, and it is what God thinks of me. That means that everything I think and feel is by nature a response, and the one to whom I respond is God. I never speak the first word. I never make the first move".
"Before you were born, I set you apart; I consecrated you ..." God told Jeremiah, (and tells us) that we have been chosen. We are a consecrated people. When I read Jeremiah 1, I have to remind myself that we have long been on God's mind and how we live our life is known and valued by God. In mysterious and sometimes hidden ways God has led us to the place we find ourselves. We belong to God, and God's hand is upon us.
"I appointed you a prophet to the nations ..." I really wish sometimes he hadn't. But he has. God still sends people like Jeremiah (namely you and me!) to be lights in our corners of creation, in those dark places where the world gropes around for direction. God sends people -- mothers and fathers, kids and grandparents, singles and couples, teachers and builders, peace makers, farmers, healers, musicians, willing servants -- out into the world to incarnate the amazing message that God loves the world and longs to see all that is broken put back together.
Dear Church: That is us. You are known. You have been consecrated. You have been appointed to go, to speak, to love, to serve.