The Web of Vocational Fidelity

Posted by DJL on Feb 13, 2014 in Theology | 1 comment

Vocation – the belief that all of God’s people are called to lives of purpose, service, and meaning – has always been one of the most important theological convictions to me. But, as I’ve learned through several years of research funded by the Lilly Endowment, it is also one of the least understood or actualized. Many, many of our people who listen to teaching and preaching about vocation regularly nevertheless report that they do not feel called. That is, they do not see their work and play and volunteering and everyday relationships as things of particular concern to God and the church, let alone view them as arenas of God’s ongoing activity to make this world a more trustworthy place.

While I’m tempted to remedy this by launching into an explanation of the source and import of vocation – tracing its development in Luther and outlining its key theological assumptions, etc. – it occurred to me that perhaps description would serve us better than explanation. So here goes.

I’ve just had the pleasure of spending time with two groups of pastors, as I mentioned yesterday, one in Colorado and one in Alberta. While with them, I was struck, as I so often am, by how blessed our churches are by our pastors and congregational leaders. They are people of great faith, creativity, and ability, and I felt again both grateful and humble to be in their presence.

But it doesn’t stop there. Indeed, the danger is that we too often do. Too often, that is, we identify “vocation” or “calling” primarily (and sometimes exclusively) with those who answer God’s call to church ministry. Ministry is a wonderful calling, but there are also so many more.

Think about it for a minute. Both of those gatherings were made possible by countless other persons – the folks who cooked and cleaned and prepared and attended to so many of our needs. Their faithful work surrounded us, often unnoticed, and made possible our work together. In between those gatherings I flew back to St. Paul to meet with members of Luther Seminary’s Board of Directors, persons who contribute to caring for God’s world in numerous ways across the continent and yet also find time to share their wisdom and experience to help guide the seminary.

And still it doesn’t end. Because today as I fly home – or at least part way home as storms are shutting down the East Coast airports – I will be dependent on thousands of people who contribute to making air travel so safe. The agent who issues my boarding pass, the technicians who care for the planes, the crews who guide us to the runway, the air traffic controllers who chart our course, and all the folks who keep our airports functioning. And don’t forget those who staff the places I get food or clean the restrooms I use. As I will likely be stranded today, I rerouted my flight through Minneapolis so I could more easily find a place to stay before heading home (hopefully!) tomorrow. And so now I am also dependent on those who took my call last night, helped with arrangements, and will rent me a car, find me lodging, and feed me this evening.

And tomorrow there will be the service crews clearing snow from the roads I travel, and the power company employees who are busy restoring power to homes without it (we lost power in Kennett Square last week and will likely again today). And then there are those providing shelter to those who need it, and keeping our communities safe when so many services are unavailable. And, finally, with not just luck but also through the care and fidelity of thousands, I will return home to my family, those who see as part of their calling caring for me with great love.

I could go on, of course, as I have barely scratched the surface of all those upon whom I rely. But perhaps this is enough to stress this one single point: Each and every day, I am caught up in and supported by a web of vocational fidelity, as are you.

This is the gift of vocation: of not just noting all these folks as employees, individuals with whom I am engaged in some sort of mercenary trade, but rather to see them as persons, as children of God working together – even when they/we don’t recognize it – toward supporting and sustaining the world God loves so much.

This isn’t the whole of vocation, and I don’t want to oversimplify. Because some of those I’ve mentioned aren’t paid what they deserve or need, others do not feel called to their work and suspect that many others could do just what they do, and still others derive little satisfaction from their jobs but perform them only to put bread on the table and clothes on their children’s backs. And of course “vocation” relates to so much more than our work. In order to articulate a theology of vocation that isn’t much more than a bourgeois luxury, therefore, we need also to talk about justice, and suffering, and the cross, and more. But for now…for now I want simply to acknowledge my dependence on all these persons – most of whom I may never encounter again – and give God thanks for surrounding me with so many faithful people.

Vocation, at its best, helps people see the jobs and roles and relationships they spend time on as worthy of God’s regard. Simultaneously, a robust sense of vocation also helps each of us see those around us as God’s children striving to live out their callings and as brothers and sisters worthy of love, dignity, and respect.

So while there is more to do to adequately describe vocation, for now a simple and profound sense of gratitude will have to suffice.