At my Christian college, during the chapel service one afternoon—I would have been probably 19 or 20 years old—the chapel speaker offered an invitation to all those in attendance to: “Stand up if you have a call on your heart to serve in ministry.”
I did have that sense of call, so I stood up. It felt natural for me to stand.
But once I got to my feet and looked around I remember feeling surprised—or some blend of self-conscious, confused, and upset—that everyone else wasn’t standing up. Plenty of the other religion majors were standing, but most of my friends—biology, pre-med, education, outdoor recreation, literature, art, music, business—were still in their seats.
The extent to which I was upset and confused wasn’t directed toward them, it was directed toward the way that the invitation was framed, the way that “ministry” in that subculture of the Evangelical Christian world was presented.
Why not throw it open a bit, and ask every young person in attendance there: “In what way is the call to serve and minister moving your heart in this moment? In what ways can you imagine responding to that call throughout your life?”
One of the ways that I am heeding my heart and living my call is as a pastor, a sort of “professional” minister.
Both times that I have served as a pastor, I didn’t go looking for it.
I was, of course, involved in the decision, purposeful with my “yes” to the opportunities that I uncovered. But it was just that: A blend of external opportunity and inner urge to walk toward that opportunity, along with the talents and skills that I needed in order to walk toward it in good faith.
That’s kind of how vocation works. Your calling won’t likely force you into compliance. Perhaps you’re one who seeks to forcefully uncover it, but it’s as like as not to surprise you with the particular forms that it takes.
Even with the explicit label that I have—the job title that gives weight to my role as a professional minister—I continue to be surprised by the particular forms that my particular form of service and ministry are taking.
For me, to be a pastor, means that I serve as a spiritual leader and teacher—in a particular location, tradition, and moment.
What makes it interesting and wholly dynamic, is that the moments keep shifting, the tradition is ever living, and my particular location is populated with a mosaic mix of personalities and persuasions.
For example, the community where I am pastoring a small church is blessed to be blended with folks who hold different political perspectives. Several on the left, some on the right, probably plenty who lean libertarian, and many who I suspect would identify as apolitical. And there’s a blend, too, of what the folks in my parish want to receive and experience when they come to church.
The past several weeks have been a veritable dojo of practice for pastoring purple—given the present cultural moment, the compelling through lines of wisdom in my tradition, and the needs, wants, fears, and hopes of my blended church family.
In this context I’ve been listening to the stirrings of my own heart, heeding the conviction I find there, shaping it with truth as best I’m able, and offering it with as much care and skill as I can muster.
A couple things have surfaced as reliable anchor points in the dynamism of my experience pastoring purple:
* We are all called to make the world good, to give ourselves to this world, to make our particular contribution informed by our personal blend of opportunity, urgency, skill, talent, and resources. Whether or not you are willing to respond to that call is up to each of you.
* When you respond in a particular way you’ll probably get some feedback. Here’s my advice for how to engage the feedback you receive: If it’s online and anonymous, ignore it. If it’s encouraging and personal, receive it, let it boost your spirit. It it’s critical and caring, receive that too, let it boost your growth. But regardless of whether it’s encouraging or critical, don’t collapse into it.
At the end of the day, or better yet, at the start of the next—especially if you are feeling disoriented, frustrated, disengaged or over-engaged—it never hurts to go ahead and ask yourself, all over again: “In what way is the call to contribute moving my heart in this moment?”
And find a way—a small way, a today way—to respond to that call.
This is where to go if you want to see me pastoring purple:
This is where to go if you want help responding to the dynamic nature of your call:
