Matthew 9:35-10:23
One of the questions that seminarians often get asked is: “What’s your call story?” When committees or professors or congregation members or internship supervisors ask this question, they want to hear how this particular person expresses an interest in ordained ministry. They want to hear the stories about how this person has heard the Holy Spirit’s voice calling them to serve and lead in God’s church for the sake of the world.
I’ve been asked this question a number of times; as I’m sure Pastor has been asked a number of times in the course of her life. How did you know you were called to serve as a pastor? This is a question about vocation. A fancy word for calling.
I’m not opposed to articulating my call story. It’s good question. I sometimes wonder, though, if there is an assumption that pastors and deacons and other clergy type are the only people expected to have call stories or at the very least, they might be the only people we ask to articulate a call story.
In Martin Luther’s time, “calling” or “vocation” was understood to apply only to those called into religious service. That is, only priests, monks, nuns and others called “away from the world” to serve God had a “true” vocation or a “true” calling.
Part of the 16th century Lutheran Reformation offered a radical redefinition of the term “vocation”. A human being is not called away from the world—with all its beauty as well as all its suffering. Rather, Martin Luther and his colleagues argued that all people are called to enter and engage the world, especially those who are in need, who are powerless or who are suffering. This means that every person is called to live their life in relationship with others within the daily rhythms of life.
While the young Luther was raised with the notion that only the work of religious professionals “mattered” in the world, his emerging reform insisted that all persons form part of an interdependent web in which life and health are sustained and supported. He called this the priesthood of all believers.The qualification for living into our daily vocation as the priesthood of all believers is not dependent upon how much money we earn, how how long we attended school or whether we know the Bible inside and out. What qualifies us for entering and engaging the world with all its needs and untold suffering is our baptism. That’s it. Our identity as beloved children of God received in the waters of baptism is what makes us qualified for loving a hurting world. The test for our callings is not “are we doing something religious? But are we serving the real needs of our neighbors?”
In today’s Jesus story, we hear Jesus has been traveling from town to town. He’s been preaching and teaching and healing all kinds of sickness and disease. As the crowds continue to grow, Jesus makes an observation about the people following him: they are like sheep without a shepherd, harassed and helpless. We living in the 21st century, and primarily city dwellers, might not fully grasp the meaning of this comparison. In agrarian communities, it is dangerous to leave sheep unattended. Without the guidance and protection of a shepherd, sheep are vulnerable to their environment and fall prey to predators. When Jesus looks at the crowds, he sees vulnerable people, lost people. He sees people in need. Instead of blaming them for their predicament, Jesus feels compassion for them.
This is not some nice sentiment on Jesus’ part. Compassion literally means a stirring in the bowels or stirring in the gut. It’s not sympathy. It’s not pity. Jesus is feeling with the crowds. Their dire situation becomes his situation. Similarly, Jesus will respond with compassion to the hunger of the crowd in both feeding accounts in the wilderness. Jesus’ deeds of power are not simply displays of divine authority. Rather, they well up from a deep sense of care for the needs of the people.
Needs that are great and many. So great and so many that Jesus needs help. So he enlists the disciples in the work of caring for people. He calls the disciples to him and renames them as apostles. Meaning, sent ones. The disciples are no longer just students of Jesus’ ministry and mission, but agents of it. In my view, the disciples have left the safety of the classroom and are heading out on internship! Putting all of what they have learned into practice. The apostles are called into the very same mission of Jesus: proclaiming the good news of God’s kingdom, teaching, raising the dead and healing the sick.
Church, we are apostles, too. Named and claimed in our baptisms, nourished in community and at the table, we are sent out to proclaim the nearness of God’s kingdom. By God’s grace, we are sent out to join God in meeting the needs our neighbors, to love a hurting world, to speak peace and offer healing.
After all, God’s mission has a church. We, God’s church, the priesthood of all believers, are a continuation, through the ages, of Jesus’ ministry. We bring our own energies and passions and gifts to the ever flowing and unfolding of God’s kingdom.
And the world we live in is hurting. The world we live in right now needs a word of good news and a word of healing. If we have been following the news at all, we see the hurt and the pain of those fighting for racial justice and equity. We see the fear and the pain of those whose loved ones are undergoing treatment or who have died from COVID-19. We see how the world keeps turning: natural disasters continue to threaten people and ecosystems, people we love receive medical diagnoses, and unjust laws are passed to disadvantage of the most vulnerable in our society. We look out into the world and see the same vulnerable, hurting people that Jesus sees.
Church, this is the world we are called into to love and serve. Each one of us, by virtue of our baptism, is sent by Jesus into the world to speak peace. We are sent by Jesus, and in some sense to be sent by Jesus is to be sent as Jesus. “Our’s are the eyes through which Jesus looks compassion on this world”(Teresa of Avila).
Jesus equipped and sent out Matthew, a tax collector. Tax collectors are not the most popular characters in the first century; they were Jewish people who worked on behalf of the Roman Empire. Jesus equipped and sent out Simon the Cananaean, a religious zealot who was likely a revolutionary actively opposing the rule of the Roman Empire. And finally, Jesus equipped and sent out Judas Iscariot, the one who would eventually betray him.
Pastors and deacons and other clergy type are not the only people with call stories. God has called each one of us by name and enlists us in caring for people by proclaiming the good news of God’s kingdom and offering a healing. Jesus isn’t waiting for you to be your ideal self before he sends you to love this world. Jesus isn’t waiting for you to be thinner or married or more stable or more spiritual or less of an addict before he calls you to speak peace into the hurting places of this world. Jesus is sending you, the actual you, the lovable and precious you into this world.
The sent-out life is inherently relational. And when we venture out, we learn very quickly that we rely on others rather than our own power or devices or equipment to proclaim the good news of God and offer healing. This can feel scary and intimidating. We don’t even get to take our Bibles with us! How will know what to say? Jesus said: “Do not worry about how you are to speak, for it is not you who speak, but the Spirit of God the Father speaking through you…” (Matthew 10:20) Church, the Spirit of God goes ahead of us showing us the way. And it is the Spirit of God who will give us the words and the courage to look with compassion and speak peace.
Thanks be to God!