I must confess, I'm not sure how our pastor got to his closing chunk of sermon from the lectionary texts. He gave us a survey of people in the Bible who had been called by God. Some reacted more graciously than others. Moses, you may remember, was very resistant: "No, not me, God. You've got the wrong guy. Choose someone else. Leave me alone." Mary, on the other hand, got on board very quickly.
Our pastor asked us if God might be calling us to something different. I nodded.
He asked us what it might be. I wish I knew.
I wish that God spoke in a language other than burning bushes or tiny whispers. Give me a scholarship or a grant, and I'll understand where you're sending me, God.
I realize that as I was thinking that above statement, I had spent part of the morning writing about my joy at being asked to write prayers. I think about my joy at being part of communion. I think about how satisfying it is to serve dinner to any population who is hungry.
Our pastor ended with my favorite Frederick Buechner quote from his book Wishful Thinking: "The place God calls you to is where your deep gladness and the world's deep hunger meet."
Missing puzzle pieces: how to pay the bills and how to pay for health care.
I envision God laughing at what must seem like minor issues in the cosmic schemes: "I have this gorgeous plan for you and you want to talk about health insurance??!!!"
Yes, our human minds do get hung up on minor details. I want to be more like Mary, but I fear I am like Moses, full of doubt and self-loathing and fear.
feeling the feelings…
1 year ago