2 Questions in Considering a Life Calling

             I would like us to reflect upon our sense of a life calling. I would like to do so by focusing upon two I would like us to reflect upon our sense of a life calling. In fact, you can do a Google search and find many articles that claim to help you find it. I do not claim to do that. I would like to discuss life calling by asking two simple questions. In the process, my hope is that they will stimulate you to consider or re-consider this important area of your life. I have come across two considerations. One begins with a Quaker saying involving letting your life speak. As we live our lives, we find a need in the world and sense our calling in meeting that need. A second consideration is that we are reflecting upon the passion you have within you. A definition of passion by Graham Young I like is that passion is something that will stem from your beliefs, that your skills will enhance, and that your values will sustain. Considering such matters involves setting aside time and space for some reflection. If we take these simple questions seriously, they will help us find our unique voice in this world. 

 

We can go down the wrong path, as Erma Bombeck reminds us. She had some simple advice for Meredith College graduation, "Never confuse fame and success.  Madonna is one.  Mother Theresa is the other."

A Peanuts cartoon reminds us that this question can seem overwhelming. Lucy and Linus are standing under a clear, dark sky at night.  They see the stars in all their majesty.  Lucy, however, has a different idea about it: "Space is too large.  We don't really need all that room, most of those planets, and stars are way too big!  The whole solar system needs readjusting."  Linus responds: "What can we as individuals do?"[1]

My first question is this. Who will you become?

Early in our lives, and at critical moments throughout our lives, we are making ourselves. We are deciding the kind of person we will be. Some people will say that they need time to find themselves. I understand that and I am sympathetic. The sad reality is that many people, if they are honest, will take that long journey inward and discover an onion. They will find that no one is home. The reason is that the soul, the self, who you are, is waiting for you to take responsibility for forming it. We create who we are through the commitments and decisions we make.[2]

The question of who you become, in the Christian context, is relatively simple one. You are to spend your life becoming a Christian. What might that look like? A "Pontius Puddle" cartoon begins with "I wonder if God can really hear me." The next frame shows Pontius praying, "Hey God! What should I do with my life?" The third frame has a voice from heaven saying, "Feed the hungry, right injustice, work for peace." "Just testing!" Pontius replies. "Same here," God speaks back.

We do not know just know the answer to such questions. The answers do not come easily for most of us. We discover our calling, and most of us do with great difficulty. We make mistakes before we get it right. We must go through some pain, take some risk, experience some adversity, and struggle. We discover gifts we did not know we had due to the challenges and experiences of life. Most of us do not get epiphanies. We get a whisper or faint urge. Often, our calling comes hidden in the experience of everyday life. Our responsibility is to hear and respond.

My second question is this. What will you do with your life? To what work will you commit yourself?

A few kids in school seem to know from first grade on just what they wanted to be when they grew up. Do you remember? He or she wanted to be a doctor, and so, chemistry sets, dissecting earthworms, hanging out at the science museum, taking the right classes, have summer jobs at labs and hospitals, and eventually trot off to medical school.

Most of us spend quite a bit of time shopping around before we finally find, or fall into, a profession that seems to suit our personality. The most popular childhood careers of firefighter, football player, ballerina and astronaut do not have large numbers of adults actually involved in those pursuits. Instead, we "settle" for jobs that need to be done or are the most available. When is the last time you heard a kid dreaming about growing up to be an office manager, banker, factory worker, or an electrical line repairer. Nevertheless, someone must do these jobs well, if we are to keep our businesses, our banks, our communities and our homes running smoothly.

One career choice that, for good or ill, has always put a lot of emphasis on hearing an early and persistent "calling" is the ministry - specifically those who seek formal ordination and see their identity as a recognized member of a profession. Some always knew they were "called" to ministry - the kids who conducted all the pet funerals, organized fake weddings, and held slightly spooky prayer vigils throughout their childhood. Then there are those who experience a much more dramatic "calling" as the result of a transforming Damascus-Road moment in their lives. These are the men and women who may have been well settled in either perfectly "normal," or sometimes more impressively in perfectly wicked lives. These are the men and women who may have said all their lives, "There's one thing I'll never consider becoming - a minister." Then, suddenly, the command of Christ on their lives brings them up short. For these individuals a "calling" is more an identifiable moment than an unfolding work-in-progress.

For most of us, what we do may change as we consider the connection between who we are and what we do. I offer an afternoon that changed a life forever. Here is the story:

Rick Olson stood with his son Patrick on a hill overlooking a panoramic view of downtown Pittsburgh with its three rivers and tall buildings. As they gazed over the railing on the Mt. Washington observation deck, Patrick pointed to the barges floating up and down the three rivers, a blue-and-gold bridge and a host of other scenes there laid out in front of them, all the while asking questions — “What kind of boat is that? How do they get the sand out of the railcars and into the barges? Which river goes south to north? Is it that one or that one?”

Rick had been living in Pittsburgh for 22 years and had never paid attention to things like that. For two hours, Patrick made observations, asked questions, and Rick could only say, “Hmmmm.”

Then Patrick asked his dad to point out the building where he had been working every day for five years as a corporate lawyer specializing in radio station mergers. There in that steel and glass edifice Rick was known as “The Mechanic” for his ability to close the deal, even though he wasn’t very good at bringing in business. Well, at least Rick knew where his building was and pointed out the downtown tower.

“What’s the building next to it?” asked Patrick. Rick did not know. He had walked past that building nearly every day for five years and he had no idea. How could he not know?

When they returned home, Rick made his son dinner, played with him, read him a story, put him in bed and kissed him goodnight. But when Rick came downstairs and plopped down on the couch, he had an epiphany. One thought kept gnawing at him: “I’d been here 22 years and never noticed all those things. What else have I been missing?”[3]

Rick realized that he was unhappy as a corporate lawyer. His firm passed him over for partner. He was not making much money. He scheduled his whole life around work, and it began to overwhelm him. He remembered the time his wife (now his ex) was scheduled for gallbladder surgery and on the way to the hospital one of the partners gave him a cell phone and suggested he make calls to clients while in the waiting room. He remembered the time that his son Patrick had to sit in his office all night while his dad met with clients.

He was multi-tasking his life and still not making it. It was time for a change.

That night Rick was 80 percent sure that he wanted to quit, but he needed to find the other 20 percent to be sure. That came in the form of a serious leg injury he sustained playing recreational hockey that forced him out of action for quite a while.

When Rick woke up in the hospital and the doctor told him that his foot and leg were broken in at least 11 places, Rick’s response was to laugh. “They just unlocked the gate. This is my chance to walk away.”

The doctor replied, “You won’t be walking anywhere for quite a while.”

“That’s fine by me,” said Rick.

Ironically, in the midst of his 10-month rehabilitation, Rick had found the courage to move on with his life. For 20 years, he had said that when work got frustrating he would “rather drive a truck.”

Therefore, that is what he did.

Rick now spends 60 percent of his time driving an over-the-road tanker truck, working 10 days on the road and then getting at least four days to spend with Patrick uninterrupted by his job. “I needed to do something different,” he explains. “I didn’t anticipate that I’d fall in love with the job.”

Many of us like to give the impression that we have life all put together nicely and neatly. In reality, life is full of twists and turns, corners around which we cannot see, hills, and valleys. When the Christian takes seriously the effect that his or her relationship with Christ will have, the answers to such questions become harder. Our answers to such questions may change over the course of our lives, but we need to keep wrestling with them. We have only this life to live.

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[1] (Robert Short, The Parables of Peanuts, 260)

[2]  --Tony Campolo, "Lose Yourself," on the Red Letter Christians blog, April 7, 2011.www.redletterchristians.org/lose-yourself/ Retrieved August 12, 2013. 

[3] Po Bonson, What Should I do with my life?