Community as Context for Vocation

We often think of vocation—our calling—in very personal terms. We’re right to do so: God’s call to us is personal: we are unique, and must each seek out the direction God is leading us, to acknowledge the gifts that God has given us. Sometimes this vocation is a career, sometimes our vocation is found in the work we do in the evenings or on weekends, sometimes our vocation is not about our work at all but our joy.

But it is easy for our exploration of vocation to narrow in, and become essentially self-centered, for our scope of vision to see only me, my life. But such a narrow focus loses a critical element of God’s true call: community.

Like most things in the Christian faith, this sounds somewhat paradoxical: shouldn’t my vocation be all about me? A great novelist and preacher, Frederick Buechner, said that “Vocation is where your deep desire meets the world’s great need.” I think this is almost right—except we don’t just live in an undifferentiated world, we live (if we’re lucky) in communities, and certainly live with histories, in places, in neighborhoods. Our communities, our histories shape our vocations—they shape how we can use our gifts.

When we are baptized, we or our parents made promises to God—and these promises were made in front of a community; and indeed the church community makes promises to support us in the faith. Baptism is a sacrament that certifies that we are now forever joined to the church—the Christian community

Community is kind of a cheap word: many things we call communities are mere shadows of a true community: we can live in the midst of many others yet remain isolated, sharing little of our time and even less of our hearts with others. Like other true communities, Christian community—the kind Jesus advocated and the early church practiced— is intentional and mutual. The church is, in Dr. King’s words, “the beloved community”—the place where we can be transformed by God rather than conformed to the expectations of the world around us.

There’s a place for us all in true community. Paul, in one of his favorite metaphors, describes the church community as one body, made up of many diverse talents. Finding our vocation, then, is not finding how to get the most out of this world (money, success, achievement)—it’s about finding a context for a life, a meaningful place to give and to receive.

May we all cherish and nurture the communities that nurture us. As we have surely received, let us also give and find our place in the body of Christ.

Amen.

Sacred Text: Community

From Paul, writing to the church at Rome:

Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds, so that you may discern what is the will of God—what is good and acceptable and perfect. For by the grace given to me I say to everyone among you not to think of yourself more highly than you ought to think, but to think with sober judgment, each according to the measure of faith that God has assigned. For as in one body we have many members, and not all the members have the same function, so we, who are many, are one body in Christ, and individually we are members one of another. We have gifts that differ according to the grace given to us: prophecy, in proportion to faith; ministry, in ministering; the teacher, in teaching; the exhorter, in exhortation; the giver, in generosity; the leader, in diligence; the compassionate, in cheerfulness. (from Romans 12)

Sacred Text: Peace

From Isaiah, Chapter 2
The word that Isaiah son of Amoz saw concerning Judah and Jerusalem.

In days to come
the mountain of the Lord’s house
shall be established as the highest of the mountains,
and shall be raised above the hills;
all the nations shall stream to it.
Many peoples shall come and say,
‘Come, let us go up to the mountain of the Lord,
to the house of the God of Jacob;
that he may teach us his ways
and that we may walk in his paths.’
For out of Zion shall go forth instruction,
and the word of the Lord from Jerusalem.
He shall judge between the nations,
and shall arbitrate for many peoples;
they shall beat their swords into ploughshares,
and their spears into pruning-hooks;
nation shall not lift up sword against nation,
neither shall they learn war any more.

Reflection: Peace

A number of years back, I spent some time working at the United Nations. I remember that part of the passage we just heard from Isaiah was inscribed on a giant wall facing the UN building: “They shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks. Nation shall not lift up sword against nation. Neither shall they learn war any more”.

“Swords into plowshares”! Food, not war. What a hope of peace Isaiah presents—how captivating and seductive. The Lord’s house is established, and all the nations come—they come to Jerusalem, the capital of the kingdom of Judah, where Isaiah was writing from. They all want to learn the ways of God. And when everyone all starts listening to God, and when God himself starts arbitrating amongst nations—then we should have peace.

Peace. What a hope, that the horrors of genocide and war for power or land, that these horrors could end. But while it’s a very appealing image of peace, we should take two important warnings from it. (it’s not nice to criticize the ancient prophets, I’m going to do it anyway.)

Peace is coming, Isaiah says. It’s coming when God sits down in our capital, Jerusalem. It’s coming when all the other nations come to our capital, and acknowledge our God. Isaiah is hoping for a peace in which everyone else will acknowledge that his country is right. [To be fair, he spends plenty of time criticizing his country too] But still—to really look for peace requires us to be humble enough to admit that we might be the problem

Peace it coming, Isaiah says—It’s coming when God is sitting on the throne, judging disputes. When everyone falls in to line. Peace will come when what is right and good is clear to everyone.

I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but peace like that ain’t coming anytime soon. There will be disputes because even well-meaning people disagree, and then there will be disputes because a few people can screw it up for the rest of us. We should work toward the dream of peace, but again, need to have the humility to recognize that it might not work out.

So where does that leave us with peace?


In the book of John, Jesus gives a long discourse to his followers just before his death. He tells them that he is leaving them, and then says

Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.

I’m not sure what kind of peace this is, but it is different, radically so, from the peace that is present in the vision of Isaiah.

Jesus is offering a kind of peace that available despite having your friend & teacher tortured and murdered, despite having to flee from persecution. “Don’t be afraid,” he says. He telling his followers that there is a kind of peace they can have, even in the presence of war and violence. Even in the presence of economic crisis.

This is a peace that is not given as the world gives. Physical peace & justice (no war, basic living standards) is important, but Jesus is pointing us toward a psychological and spiritual peace. A peace that comes from connecting with God, from “storing up treasures in heaven” that cannot be destroyed by the discord here in earth.

I’m not quite sure how to get that peace, but it has something to do with practice—the practice of prayer, our spiritual formation in community—and it has something to do with the presence of God in our lives.

May that peace be with us, this day and every day forward.

Amen.