Life in the Beloved: Vocation

Lent V – April 6, 2014

Life in the Beloved: Vocation

“And Jesus, in a loud voice, said – ‘Come out!’”

As we are approaching the end of this Great Holy Lent, in this series of sermons based on materials from the Cowley Fathers, “Life in the Beloved” our theme for today is “Vocation.” Vocation is a Latin-based word (“vocare”) that essentially means “calling” or even “summoning.” And if we even dig further, behind vocare we find the Latin word “vox”, voice. Related words in English are invocation, avocation, vocalist, vocal, and so many more.

By its nature, all words related to voice and vocation have, so to speak, an outward dynamic. Voice is something that we project outside of ourselves. Vocation is a calling, that is to say, vocation is much more than a career, a business card, or even a dream job. It is a calling. It is what it may keep us awake at night or make us to leave everything behind in pursuit of something that has made us uniquely alive. Vocation it is what pushes out of ourselves, summoning to do things way beyond personal gain and self-interest... or even retirement!

Vocation is a word that it is given to us. By definition, we do not generate our own vocation. Vocation is something that comes out of the blue and drags out into world well beyond ourselves. “Come and I will make you fishers of men” … “Come and follow me!”

Now, let me quote the Cowley Fathers, “The Gospel of John is book-ended by scenes of vocation or calling: In John 1, Jesus calls two of John the Baptist’s disciples to ‘Come and see’; in John 21, the Risen Christ invites Peter, saying ‘Follow me.’”

And in between these scenes there is one more than condenses in a nutshell what the Gospel of John and what vocation is all about. In the story about Lazarus, Jesus points out to the tomb and cries, “Come out!” (John 11:43). “Come out of what hinders your true life! Come out of your little niche of self-pity! Come out and be who you were truly meant to be!”

Come out! Not necessarily in the contemporary sense of “come out of the closet,” thought it may well include it. But the voice of Christ, nevertheless, invites us to leave the seclusion, the security or even the self-pity of our own lives to pursue the life of the Spirit, since, as St Paul writes, “the Spirit dwells in us” (Romans 8:9). The voice of Christ is always inviting us to leave behind the strips of cloth that bind us and tie us down not to the world but to ourselves.

Again, the Cowley Fathers write, “‘You have not chosen me,’ Jesus tells his disciples, ‘but I have chosen you’ (John 15:16). Jesus has called and chosen each and every one of us. Everyone has a vocation. This vocation is not equivalent to our career or our business card, though for some people, their vocation might be related to their career path. Rather, our vocation is the unique life to which we are called as children of God. It encompasses our relationships, our talents, and the whole of our identities. The only constant in vocation is that it is other-oriented. ‘I give you a new commandment,’ Jesus says, ‘love one another’ (John 15:12).

(And let me remark here and now, why the so-called Prosperity Gospel is a totally and utterly false gospel, no matter how many times they use the name “Jesus.” First, because their so-called prosperity it is never outwardly oriented. “It is my prosperity.” “These are my blessings for me to enjoy!” And look how they hide their “prosperity”, their mansions, and splendid “blessings” out of eyes of questioning eyes! Where is the prosperity of the grain of wheat that has to die for to be a harvest? Secondly, and perhaps, more to the point – Jesus does not call us to prosperity but to deny ourselves, to take up the Cross, and to follow Him.)

“We can express this vocation to love in our work, in our relationships, or in our world. One way to step into this larger sense of vocation is to ask yourself: What do I love to do? What makes me feel passionately alive? Where do I respond deeply to the needs and desires of others?”

Vocation means calling, and thus it is always a word that moves us to look out beyond ourselves. “Out of the depth have I called you, O Lord,” (Psalm 130:1) cries the Psalmist. However, what truly is going on is that it is the Lord who keeps calling us out of the depths of our afflictions, our pettiness, and short-sightedness — “Come out! Out of the depths I have called you, O man; O woman!”

In the next few weeks and months ahead, hopefully under the leadership of a new Rector, St Paul will start looking afresh to find its vocation. St Paul is no longer the small country church that it was almost one hundred and sixty years ago. It is no longer the “new” church planted in the “new development” that this area was fifty years ago. Not only the neighborhood has changed but people, culture, language, communications, shopping, everything. Even our own understanding of what it means to be “church” has changed dramatically.

Like Martha, the apostles, and the friends of Lazarus complained, we too may be tempted to complain. “If only the promised development between Lake Barcroft and Arlington had materialized…” “If only they hadn’t changed the Prayer Book…” “If only…” And, even like the People of Israel in exile, having lost any reasonable hope of revival and of having a decent future, we too may wish to shy away from answering the question, “Can these bones live?” “Would these dry bones have a chance left in them?” “Is there any hope left for St Paul’s?” “Why should I pledge?” “Why would I give more of my time, energy, and even a bit of the little hope that still is left in me?”

My brothers and sisters, bad things happen to good people. That is the nature of the world in which we live in. Yet, our Lord Jesus Christ keeps calling us out of the gloom of our own expectations into the open world of the life in the Spirit that it is already in us. “If the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, he who raised Christ from the dead will give life to your mortal bodies also through his Spirit that dwells in you” (Romans 8:10-11). This is the Gospel, the Good News. It is the reassuring voice of our Lord calling us out of our own belly-buttons to the new life in the Spirit. “Come out!” It is the voice of Jesus asking us to untie ourselves of the strips of cloths with which we have bound ourselves to our own dreams and our own expectations.

So my challenge to you – both as individuals and as the community that is St Paul’s – is to ask you again, “Can these old bones live?” Like Lazarus we all have a choice. Stay in the cave, refusing to believe the commanding voice of Christ and stay comfy in the place where circumstances had placed him. You see, the grave offered Lazarus a sense of security. The security of not being disturbed by the “chances and changes” of this troubled world. He could continue remembering the old prayers he learned as a child and continue humming the well-known tunes of hymns he sung at Sunday School or at Camp. He could very well continue replaying in his head scenes of his “perfect” old white country church, where things never changed, rituals where never disturbed, and where county parsons would visit in the afternoons for a cup of tea.

Or come out to live and enjoy the new and unbridled life that Jesus Christ offering Lazarus then, and to all of right here and now.

“Glory to God whose power, working in us, can do infinitely more than we can ask or imagine: Glory to him from generation to generation in the Church, and in Christ Jesus for ever and ever. Amen.” (Ephesians 3:20-21).

Fr. Gustavo