What does it mean to be "chosen" by God?
In the Hebrew scripture for this morning, we read the story of God choosing David to replace Saul as king of Israel. The prophet Samuel surveys the sons of Jesse and discerns that David is the one God has chosen.
In essence, the work Samuel does in discerning the next leader of Israel is the same work that discernment committees do in choosing the next leaders of the church. As individuals present themselves as interested in a career in ordained ministry, it is the committee's responsibility to listen and to pray, and to discern which of these individuals God has chosen to serve as deacons or priests in the church.
I stand before you today as a product of that process. The committees met, the prayers were said, the bishop was consulted, and at the end, all these people affirmed that they believe that I have been chosen by God to be a priest.
And I believe it, too. The discernment process and the ordination service do not allow for a kind of "oh, if you insist...." approach to putting on the collar. Aspirants for the priesthood are not allowed to play the role of the reluctant leader, having greatness thrust upon them. A large part of the discernment process is learning to claim one's sense of calling. When the bishop asks in the ordination service, "My sister, do you believe that you are truly called by God and his Church to this priesthood?" I must be able to answer confidently and firmly, "I believe I am so called."
In essence, I must stand up and proclaim to the world that I am chosen by God.
Sounds just a bit arrogant, doesn't it? -- maybe even dangerous. We are rightly suspicious of people who claim to be "chosen by God" -- for me, that language conjures up images of early Puritans proclaiming who is and who is not among the "elect" few whom God has chosen for salvation, in a system that I would call theologically abusive. Throughout human history, people have used language about being "God's chosen people" to justify pursuing their own self-interests, often through violence.
But what we miss if we think of being "chosen by God" as arrogant is the fact that being "chosen by God" does not make us any better than anyone else -- because here's the secret -- God has chosen EVERYONE. But we are chosen to do different things, to play different roles. Claiming to be "chosen by God" only becomes arrogant when we believe that the thing God has chosen us to do is better than the things God has chosen other people to do.
My grandfather, who was not a church-going man himself, used to always say, "What a good thing it is that God made us all different -- that's what makes the world go 'round." Or, in the words of the Apostle Paul in the letter to the Ephesians:
"[E]ach of us was given grace according to the measure of Christ’s gift. The gifts he gave were that some would be apostles, some prophets, some evangelists, some pastors and teachers, to equip the saints for the work of ministry, for building up the body of Christ, until all of us come to the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to maturity, to the measure of the full stature of Christ." (Ephesians 4:7, 11-13)
What role has God chosen you to play in building up the body of Christ? Even this passage from Ephesians is quite limiting, as it talks about people being called to be apostles, prophets, evangelists, pastors, and teachers -- but God also chooses people to be doctors and lawyers and English tea volunteers and vestry members and gardeners and finance committee members. Where do your gifts lie in serving God and bringing others to the knowledge and love of God?
In my experience of discerning my calling to the priesthood, I have come to believe that we all have a particular calling in life, a particular path that will bring us to a place of abundant blessing if we choose to follow it. I do not believe that God will reject us if we do not choose that path, but I do believe that we will find more fulfillment and abundant blessings if we do follow it.
In late college and the beginning of graduate school, I planned to pursue a career in journalism. I knew I loved studying religion, and I was also a good writer, so I thought I would combine these two things and become a religion reporter for a newspaper. My experiences in the world of journalism were all rewarding in some sense, and I believe that God was surely with me, guiding me and loving me through all that I did in that field of work. But while I was writing articles and copy editing newspaper pages, I couldn't shake the sense that there was something more important that I should be doing.
From the first time I began to read the Bible in earnest in late high school, I had been struck by Jesus's injunction to reach out to the poor. Passages from Scripture like, "If you love me, feed my sheep" (John 21:15-17), and "whatever you did to the least of these, you did it to me" (Matthew 25:40), would ring in my head as I walked past homeless people begging for change on the streets of Cambridge.
Finally, I listened to the call and began to volunteer with an outdoor church for the homeless in Cambridge, similar to the Church of the Common Ground here in Atlanta. Although I felt completely unqualified and incompetent in this ministry, it certainly brought me much closer to God than journalism ever had. I began to write about my experiences with the Outdoor Church, and some of my mentors began to suggest that I might consider pursuing ordained ministry. Although every practical bone in my body told me it was time to get a "real job" and start making money to pay off my educational debt, I felt the call to devote intentional time to seriously discern whether or not I had a calling to ordained ministry, so I spent a year in intentional community living and discernment in Omaha, Nebraska, through one of the Episcopal Service Corps internships for young adults. While I know God would have been with me even if I chose not to go to Omaha, it became obvious to me once I arrived and met the wonderful people there who supported me in my discernment that I had found the place of deep blessing that God had for me at that time.
Listening to God's call is not often easy or practical, in my experience. But when God chooses us to do something, we actually have very little choice in the matter. From comparing notes with others in the field of ordained ministry, I have heard countless stories of people who have denied their calling for many years, pursuing another career, until finally they were able to accept God's call, to recognize their chosenness, and begin to live into that place of deep blessing to which God had been calling them all their lives. Like Jonah, we are finally unable to run from our calling, however scared we might be to accept it.
It has certainly been difficult for me to accept that I am chosen by God. Ironically, although I look for approval from others and struggle with perfectionism, it is actually difficult for me to accept praise, and even harder to truly acknowledge that I am fundamentally accepted, even chosen, by God. My perfectionism often leaves me feeling woefully inadequate in the face of the calling I have received. Perhaps that's why I was brought to tears by the following quote, which I first heard in a sermon that a friend of mine gave at St. James Episcopal Church in Cambridge, Massachusetts, the church I attended while I lived in Boston. It is often attributed to Nelson Mandela, but was actually written by Marianne Williamson, an author and minister in the Unity Church. She writes,
“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.
Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.
It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us.
We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?
Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God.
Your playing small does not serve the world.
There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do.
We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone.
And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”
My years in discernment have begun for me the process of becoming liberated from my own fear -- fear of failure, fear of rejection, fear of being hurt -- and becoming reborn as "a new creation" (as Paul says in 2 Corinthians), a more calm and confident version of myself who is able to claim her gifts and own her calling. The process is difficult and ongoing, but it is happening. I am learning to accept my chosennesss, to acknowledge that I am the beloved of God - to stand up and say, "Yes, I am chosen."
I believe this is what happens when we begin to follow the path that God has prepared for us -- we are brought face to face with our belovedness and are liberated from our fear. God begins to pry open our hearts to accept God's love and begin to offer it to others. It may not always be the path we would have expected to take; it may not be the path that others would have us take -- but it is the path God calls us to nonetheless. And it is an invitation to a place of great blessing.
My prayer is that each of you would find that path, that place of great blessing, in your own lives, and in doing so you would find yourselves face to face with a God who loves you and who chooses you - every day and every hour - to represent God's love to the world.
The Lord has chosen YOU. Stand up and proclaim it to the world, and "let your light shine before others, that they may see your good works, and glorify God in heaven" (Matthew 5:16). Amen.
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