The Theological School of Dirty Mop Water
The questions and concerns sprouting from the topic of faith and vocation took root in my life over a decade ago. I’m often ready with a multi-step plan, usually tucked away in some optimistic folder on my desktop. So I was unprepared for being thrown into the topic and the feelings that came from being freshly minted out of college, newlywed, new to Abilene, and frantically searching for a job. I was sucker-punched with the question, “Now what?”
Graduate school and meaningful work with two loving and incredibly patient rural churches allowed me to keep the concern at bay for a time, but I kept coming back to it with a persistence to dig deeper. The timing of life events, a long-time love for cooking, and a desire to explore bi-vocational ministry eventually led me to culinary school. You can guess how many strange looks and comments that decision earned me. The responses ranged from mild confusion to inquiries about whether or not I had burned out of ministry. One man asked my family if I was doing okay with my faith and if I still believed in God. Christian vocation becomes complicated to live out when not everyone agrees on a definition.
This season (including the negative experiences) was richly formative, yet the questions of vocation remained ever present. What is my purpose? How does this connect to faith? What is the place of the faith community? Is this the right direction? These concerns were never louder in my head than when I would slop dirty mop water over my shoes and down my socks at the end of a shift, or when I would once again slam my hand against the metal frame of a generator while changing the oil. My engagement with my work led to more questions, which brought me back to more reflection. The ever-pressing question was, “Where is God in work?”
I share part of my story in hopes that you might see parallels to your own journey and begin to reflect with me. Christian vocation is a rich topic that requires everyone to engage it for him/herself. I’m aware that there is a tendency to assign these questions to the concerns of the young and to assume that time and maturity will resolve them. However, let me share an encounter with a friend in an assisted living facility. This terminally ill woman (I’ll call her Kathy) was mostly confined to her bed, and her sister (her only family) lived in another city. As I sat beside her bed visiting, the conversation turned toward her faith. Kathy caught me off guard with her comment, “I want to know what my purpose is now that I’m in this nursing home.” The questions of vocation appear even in the later stages of life.
Have you felt the urgency and anxiety of people needing to know specifics? To be clear, I’m not talking about those who want to know which self-serving option God wants for their lives. I’m focusing on those who are striving to make their faith tangible. How do you engage these pastoral opportunities? General, pious-sounding summaries like “your purpose is to do God’s will” ring with truth but, to me, also sound more dismissive than pastoral in the moment.
In wrestling with these questions, there is a passage to which I like to periodically return. Its connection to vocation is by no means original to me. In Exod. 31, Moses is conversing with God, like a friend the text will later inform us. The Lord tells him that Bezalel and Oholiab are called and given the skill to make the tent of meeting, the ark of the covenant, and all the accompanying artifacts. I originally thought, “Yes! This is what vocation is about – God equipping us for a task.” However, I missed something much more important. Bezalel is filled with divine spirit. To say it again, he is given the spirit! Strung through this whole section of text is the theme of God’s presence. The vocation of these craftspeople emerges out of the presence of God. This passage (along with others) gave insight and depth to my earlier question, which is almost a prayer, “Where is God in work?”
Christian vocation deeply involves becoming aware of God, which requires intentionality. I want to offer these thoughts as reflection prompts, conceding that I have left many things unsaid.
Christian vocation is less about purpose and more about presence.
We cannot develop a deeper understanding of ourselves and our place in the work of God if we do not immerse ourselves in the contemplation of God.
The search for purpose in Christian vocation is only fully realized when it stems from the disruption and peace that comes from the presence of God.
