The psalm for this Sunday proclaimed: "O that today you would listen to the voice of the Lord. Do not harden your hearts!" This is exactly what I have been working on over the past few weeks in my prayer. It is not always easy to tune out the noise to hear God's voice, however God's voice is in our every day and every season. This week I share with you a reflection I recently wrote for a class. The psalm reminded me of it and and in it I hear God's voice. God is indeed always at work and so I continue to work on listening because I truly believe we are each chosen and called.
However we might understand God’s will,
we should seek to find it revealed in our deepest
desires.
-
John Sachs in “The
Christian Vision of Humanity”
We all seek meaning and
purpose in life. We desire to be appreciated and valued, we expect our dignity
and rights to be upheld and expect the golden rule to be the rule that guides
our living. This is true for each human being no matter our walk of life, our situation,
our religion, our orientation or our country of birth. It is in this seeking,
this value, this dignity, this rule of living that our deepest desires
intersect with other’s deepest desires and with the deepest desire of God.
God’s deepest desire, I believe, is for all God’s children to know love and to
love, for freedom to embrace God’s will and to know they are chosen and called.
Our deepest desires
call us down many paths in life and we may be called many things throughout our
life time, but “chosen, called and loved” are the greatest words spoken to each
of us. Whether through family, friends,
colleagues, peers, teachers, children, seniors or whomever, it is the voice of
God that must be heard in our name being called - declaring us as chosen and
loved.
One just has to turn to
the gospel story of the prodigal son (Luke 15:11-32) to see how truly and madly
and deeply in love God is with us and all creation. We can also see this
dignity solidified in the letter of John when he declares, “See what love the
Father has given us, that we should be called children of God; and that is what
we are” (1 John 3:1). This is the dignity of vocation that is not a “flash in
the pan moment” rather a process; a life time of being open to God’s will and
listening for and seeking how it connects to our deepest desires. God knows our
hearts and the good desires that are deep in our hearts so intimately that God desires
for us to fulfill them for the betterment of the kingdom and the reign of love
and justice. This is only possible through “practices of discernment” and
embracing a “lifelong understanding of vocation” (K. Cahalan). I have come to
see how this is true in my own journey but only upon reflecting on what has
been and where I am today.
Understanding
our whole lives as a calling takes time. When we are children we desire to be
adults, when we are students we desire to be working, when we are working we
desire to be retired and when we are retired we desire freedoms. This seeking
and yearning can cause us to miss the moments of those particular years of our
life and that of a lifelong vocation. We must live the seasons of our lives and
not constantly desire to be living another part of our lives. St. Francis of
Assisi challenges us to be generative in our living the seasons of our lives,
“the Spirit of the Lord will rest upon all those men and women who have done
and preserved in these things and it will make a home and dwelling place in
them. And they will be the children of the heavenly Father, whose works they
do. And they are spouses, brothers and mothers of our Lord Jesus Christ.” (St.
Francis of Assisi – “Later Admonition”)
This is the work and fruit of vocation, to be a vessel for the Holy Spirit and
to embrace our dignified roles as spouses, siblings and parents of Jesus our
whole lifelong. For me, this is understanding vocation as being chosen and
called, for I am constantly called “to be spouse, to be brother and to be
mother” of Jesus in each season of life.
I
truly believe as children of God we are all chosen (Romans 8:15-17), and I
appreciate that I am being called continually and fulfilling my call in each
season of my life, in each time and space in which I live. Kathleen Cahalan, in
her book “Calling All Years Good”,
speaks of the anxiety and fear that some feel in missing “God’s one call.” This
I can understand and have felt this same anxiety at points in my journey.
Getting caught in the “what if?” or “how do I know?” or “will I be any good?”
moments can indeed be fearful. However through the nourishment of the
Eucharist, scripture, the desire to be part of community, good people and life
experiences I have learned that discerning is never over and fear has no place in
the lifelong journey of discernment (even though it tries to rear its ugly
head). Trying to appreciate this and how this allows for my desires and God’s
will to continually intertwine is still unfolding in my life. I do see that the
divine spark within us is ignited at birth and through baptism, it is enflamed
by Christ present in others on the journey, circumstances and life lived. As I
transitioned from life as a lay pastoral minister to life as a Franciscan I
have been opened up to the reality of discernment and not getting stuck in the “one
call only mode.” I have more and more been able to say “thanks be to God” for
the journey and the continual discernment that gives flesh to my desires, deepens
my spiritual life and my craving to be a vessel for the Triune God. Even in the
moments when contemplation, pondering and discernment seem painful and
difficult I know that God provides light for the path (John 8:12), wind to fan
the flame (John 3:8) and wisdom to leap into my darkness (Wisdom 18:15).
Cahalan’s
study stated that “most communities are not places of calling.” This statement
saddens me for it means that we are not valuing the relationships of community
– of the kingdom – and acknowledging that Christ dwells among us; for he
pitched his tent among us (John 1:14). Families and communities are the first
place where we hear what it is to be called. Our name is called and cooed by
our parents and it is declared in the sacrament of baptism; it is here that we first
hear the voice of Jesus declaring us as chosen. For if Christ chose to pitch
his tent among us and live among us then indeed we are chosen and this is our
vocation story.
Each of us is called to
pitch our tents around Christ and encourage others to do the same. I know in my
own journey this is true, for in the many communities in which I have lived they
have always been places of calling. It was not about my parents saying, “you’ll
be a good brother someday!” or neighbours saying, “why don’t you study to be a
priest?” or parishioners saying, “what will be next for you?” It was in my
parents appreciating my abilities and challenging me to use my skills to serve
and build community. It was in neighbours encouraging me in accomplishments and
acknowledging that I am a valued member of the community. It was in parishioners
working with me to make our parish community a place of welcome. It is now as a
Friar, through my vows and my brothers’ help that I see my desires and hopes united
with God’s will as I yearn to be guided by the rule of St. Francis. This has
been the constant pitching of my tent near Christ and living the gospel. This
is living a vocational life for it is in all the seasons of my life that I am
called to be a Christ bearer. For in Christ pitching his tent among us it has revealed
God’s love and this love has encompassed me. It is though this love in
communities as places of calling that I have been able to make ready a place
for Christ to pitch his tent again and again. In staying near to Christ I can
embrace the changes that come in the seasons of my life and to recognize that
he is also here among us now.
Being an open vessel
for the Triune God has become a common prayer for me. My mantra or motto has
been: “Lord help me to be a living tabernacle and living icon for you.” This is
the metanoia of my vocation. I
continually allow the Spirit to work through me and open myself up to this
movement. This along with listening to
my heart (for being a living tabernacle means Christ dwells there) and opening
up my imagination (through prayer, music, new experiences, dialogue, listening
to other’s stories) allows God to work through me whether in great ways or small
ways, general tasks or a specialized field. It is here that I come to see that
the Jesus story is not ended for he lives in me and in all God’s children.
Saint Francis once said,
“I have done what is mine to do; may Christ teach you what is yours!” What is
mine to do is to embrace the lifelong vocation journey that encompasses all the
seasons of my life and creates a fullness. What is mine to do is to embrace the
dignity which is mine as a child of God because of the love of Christ and his
Spirit who enlivens my desires and imagination calls me to the fullness of
life, “For in him we live and move and have our being.” (Acts 17:28). What is
mine to do may not look the same as yours, or my brothers or even my siblings
and my friends but what unites us is that we are all chosen and called. The
seasons of my vocational life, if you will, are the newness of spring, the
refreshment of summer, the harvesting of autumn and the stillness of winter.
What more could I desire for in this chosen and called life of mine?
