a 2,000 word gift for the weekend...

So I have been thinking and talking a bit with people over this idea of vocation. I heard a sermon at my church recently that dealt with this, and then I have been having my own musings on this topic sparked by different occurrences in my life.

One occurrence was a strange moment of reflection the other night, in the midst of a group of fellow Christians who were introducing themselves. What is the first thing you are going to tell about yourself? Most people, the question you first ask or the answer you first give will be along the lines of your job or field of study. It is this job or field of study that is defining you, or that you are allowing to define yourself, in the eyes of another person. (Aside: I am well aware that the most defining thing about myself and other Christians is Christ. But for this scenario, that is a given. So considering that as an understood given for any Christian, what is the next defining quality of you? Or the first defining quality of any non-Christian? This is the question I will be tackling.)

I heard introductions that went like this….
“Hi, my name is ______, and I am studying ______.”
“Hi, my name is ______, and I work at ______.”
“Hi, my name is ______, and I am a ______.”

Fill in these blanks with anything that would qualify as a job or career, or a major at college (which is basically the categorization of your job aspiration). These are the things, the pieces of information, that you give another individual, to get a glimpse into who you are. Why? Simply put, your job or career or college major represents something that you – presumably – feel passionate about, excited about, called to, or want to devote your life to. A good 25+ years of devotion.

I have two strains of thought, and unfortunately they split like a fork in the road. So let me begin with the first. Let me relate my experience, sitting there, with other individuals, waiting for my turn to introduce myself. Every single person had a response that mirrored my fill-in-the-blank examples above. I thought, can I really say the same thing? Can I really say, “Hi, my name is Kristi, and I am a [insert job title and description here]…”? This thought was met with a strong aversion and distaste in my consciousness. Instead, when it came my turn, my response ran like this: “Hi, my name is Kristi, and I have a wild dog named after a Russian literary character.”

My response was met with good-natured laughter. Simply put, in reality, the fact that I am a dog owner, and a dog owner who is a fan of Russian literature, actually does say more about me (personally) than my job title and description. Even then, such a factoid falls terribly short of any substantial meaning and insight into me. So a deeper question is: should a job define a person? Define me personally? There needs to be a distinction at this point in the discussion between mere jobs and careers, and that of vocations – if you will, holy vocations. During the sermon I heard recently at my church, Pastor Sartelle commented on the fact that people used to always refer to their job as their “vocation” rather than their “career.” Vocation implies calling, that you have been called to do something, to engage yourself in a holy pursuit that is in God’s design. Eric Liddle (a la Chariots of Fire) said, "God made me for China, but he also made me fast. And when I run, I feel his pleasure." This should resonate with Christians, to know that there is something, or there are multiple things, that God made you for, that He delights IN you as you do them, whether that be running, doing missionary work in China, working on computers, teaching, being a doctor or nurse, a lawyer, a mother, a father, a husband, a wife, a writer, a photographer, a car mechanic… This is the quintessential nature of vocation: knowing what you are made for and feeling God’s pleasure in that purpose.

Road block: what if I don’t feel that now?
I come to a couple conclusions.
First, what I am employed in is not my holy vocation.
Second, it is a job, and I can serve God and my neighbor and employer and co-workers to the best of my ability and honor and please God while doing so… but since this is not my end, I will not be here forever. I need to consider, however, for how long I should be here. What is the purpose now?
Third, I need to be attuned to those things that do excite me, so that I can – with confidence – pursue that which I was made for… and not remain in a job lacking the call and delight of a vocation.

Eric Liddle was probably known more for his running than his missionary work. However, he puts the two side by side: running and China. Two things he was made for, not one, not either/or. Clearly, I may not have one defined specialized niche to fill in the world of business or economics or education or medicine or family or… I may find myself embracing many, many vocations. Truly, I hope I will! I believe I am made for vocations in marriage, in photography, in writing, in academia, in church, in missions, in friendships. In fact, I think I already am living in some of these vocations now. So do these things define me? Yes, but not entirely. I think I will always inadequately sum up who I am in one sentence, with one fact, with one piece of information. I can no more give a glimpse to a stranger of myself by telling them my vocation or where I work than I can give someone a glimpse of the fullness of God by pointing to the brilliant sunrise. Qualities of nature, my nature as an individual or God’s nature, are revealed by stating I have a job or by seeing a sunrise, respectively. However, I will postulate that others come to rightly, more fully understand me, define me, only by knowing me, in a loving relationship. (Their intentions have to be good and loving for them to be able to have eyes to see me in my actuality; one can’t approach me with a prejudice for not liking me, or they will never know those true things about me, always picking out my perceived flaws rather than taking in my whole being and opening themselves up to discovering delightful things about me.) Likewise, someone will only come to rightly understand and define God by being in a loving relationship with Him. (Reasoning above applies.) Furthermore, others – people and God alike – may give me more definition than I could ever give myself. I see my flaws and confusion, one gray, garbled mass of a messed up heart and mind and soul. But others see my talents more quickly than I do. They show me that they see more than just confusion in me, they see light and goodness and other things I sometimes don’t see myself.

The second fork in this conversation is concerned with this idea of devoting yourself 25+ years to a specific, particularized field. What happens when you take your coat and tie and call it quits for your line of work, leave that place and enter into that blessed state of being that modern America has been calling retirement? Do you leave your holy vocation in medicine or education or missions behind you? Retirement is something that we work for, we save money for… so we don’t have to show up somewhere from 8-5, M-F. Usually this is because we want to leave the job and be with our family, take a break, not be held under a responsibility like showing up for work every day, wanting to return to a freer lifestyle. But I sense that individuals sometimes can slip into this mode of thinking themselves useless. The work force doesn’t need them, so what are they to do? Collect seashells on the beach and be entertained by the latest soap opera and sitcom…? (I’m alluding to ideas I’ve heard or read from John Piper about this. Don’t Waste Your Life is on my list of must-reads in the near future.)

Retirement is not a part of God’s design. The Sabbath is. Instead of taking our day of rest every week, we want our rest to build up at the end of our lives in the form of years. In fact, many of us ignore the Sabbath. We want to run headlong into busy lifestyles 7 days a week, and if we had 8, we’d be living out busyness 8 days a week too. This is not a matter of time; this is a matter of priority and perception. We don’t want to rule over this world and subdue it, take care of it, for our entire lives; we just want to do it for our 25-some odd years. We become focused on ourselves, our nuclear families. (Don’t get me started on nuclear families! Let me just say this concept is also foreign to God’s larger design – but I’m not discounting nuclear families entirely. This is where the breakdown of Christian community happens, and we need to shift from isolated nuclear husband/wife/children families, to a “nuclear” brothers/sisters/Father family.) The pastor at my church came on board this past summer. He shepherds this one particular flock. He has been married for 40 years. He is at least 60 years old. And yet he just took on a new position as senior pastor at my church. I don’t think he has any plans to retire. He is in his vocation, where God has called him to be. Why on earth would he want to stop, when he is living in the light of God’s pleasure?

Modern man is about modern convenience and this has resulted in sheer laziness. We don’t want to work. We see all work as painful toil when in fact all work is not painful toil. We want to sit on our bums when we reach 70 because we deserve some peace and relaxation for putting in our time of hard work. I won’t deny, those in retirement probably did work very hard in their lives, and just looking at generational differences, they have probably suffered more than I may come to experience. But this concept, that mankind deserves a break after 25 years of work? I’m just pretty skeptical that it holds much water. (Granted, if I am still in this same job in 25 years, I, too, will want a serious break! Precisely because this is not my vocation…) Maybe we also need to redefine, rethink, the nature of work when we are older. We may simply, practically, not be able to keep the same “hours” or do the same stuff. But do we stop living, loving, serving, caring, and yes, working? I don’t think so.

Consider this: God didn’t say, hey, I made the world, now I’m sitting back and going to take a break and watch. Maybe there are some people who think about God that way. I definitely do not. He took a Sabbath, but He didn’t retire. He is living and active in every moment. And frankly, if I ever make it to retiring age, I think I’ll still want to care for this earth, be active, doing something other than being entertained and relaxing in a condo on the beach. How great, how wonderful, if that thing I would be doing when I’m “retired” is the same thing I was doing for those 25+ years before!? To steal an apropos title of a book, it’s about a long obedience in the same direction.

Anyone out there listening?