Since there is not really a unifying theme, I'll write in extended bullet points (also pardon the utter lack of planning or editing, I am not attempting theological sophistication below):
(A) Just over two years ago now, God's Call to ministry began to “crystallize” in my mind, as I put it in my “Entrance Essay” for the ELCA Candidacy process. I say it came together or surfaced at that time because really it was me putting together tons of experiences, memories and self-reflections on strengths and weaknesses, likes and dislikes (all of which happened over many years) into a concrete path. I thought then maybe I had finally figured out that every plan I had ever made in my life ended going in an entirely unexpected different direction, one that was always much better than what I'd imagined. But no, I kept making plans – what seminary to choose (I thought Gettysburg, but Philadelphia was it), when I would enter (a year later than my plan), what I would do til then (3 diff jobs!). I've been straining my mind about the context of my future ministry (i.e. urban, rural, suburban), exactly where it might be, where I should do clinical education, internship, what I should concentrate in, what else I should be doing now to prepare, and on and on.
No.
God will reveal the way at the appropriate time. I have never been led astray. I will be open to the leading of the Spirit in me.
The above is the spiritual place I would like to be, and where I think maybe I am now, finally. Case in point – I have traveled much of the Eastern U.S., usually wondering if one place or another is the right place for me to do ministry. I have done lengthy comparisons in my mind and yes, written as well. What I've come to realize is that it doesn't matter. Ministry is not about me, or the people I'm with, or the building we're in or what's outside the building. It's about God, the most Holy Creator of all that is. It's about God's Word active in our lives, made flesh in Jesus Christ. It is the light that darkness cannot (did not) overcome. God will send me where I need to go, and wherever that is will be good. Of course, ministry takes on different forms in different places, but the Word and the Sacraments are not defined by the place. They transform people and place wherever they are taken. As we talked about in my theology class, God's Word (not just Scripture, but all of God's self-revelation culminating in Christ) is “norma normans non normata,” or a norm that norms which is not normed by anything else.
It seems so simple, but for someone who plans as much as I do, who has managed every detail to succeed in life, it is a big deal and a major retreat to stop doing so. I will relapse frequently, I'm sure. For me, it helps to restrict my outlook to today, following Jesus' direction (do not worry about tomorrow...) This brings me to my next point....
(B) If you want to get a sense of my pre-seminary theology, just read the rest of this blog. It is steeped in social justice and the application of the gospel to our physical world. I'm not backing away from this gospel, but my view has been challenged and perhaps broadened just since I've been here. As a good Lutheran, I know how we apply the gospel message does not justify us, nor is it our responsibility or capability to “save” the world (that's all God). God has already won the victory in Christ, but not yet has the kingdom of God (please know I'm speaking very generally about all this) arrived in glory. We do see the kingdom as “inaugurated” in our time, and therefore our witness matters as we herald its final coming and learn to live as God intends us to. But, looking at the ministry of Jesus, I've realized it was not particularly results-oriented, at least as we typically define results. The gospel does not depend on the “effectiveness” of human witness, in other words. The power of the gospel is indeed made perfect in weakness, and when we try to witness using any form of human power, our witness is robbed of its divine, non-worldly power. It's tough to grasp the “otherness” of God. So, flowing from these thoughts and a brief exposure to Constantine's seizure of the Way of Jesus, my outlook on church and state has evolved a bit. Faith must speak, it must be made active in love, yes, but it must not take on human or worldly power. Faith is the Way of God, government is a tool that enables humans to live together. Faith should try to exert influence on government, but it cannot become like government. Faith is not conditional on anything of the world.
So, my perspective on living out our faith is not changed, but it has gained a clearer understanding of its “otherness” with respect to the institutions and values of the world. It must not compromise its otherness, even if this means worldly “failure.” This is the Way of the Cross, I think. Jesus didn't put food in anyone's mouth when on the Cross, nor did he cure the plague or overthrow the corrupt, tyrannical Roman regime. He defeated the powers of sin and death that pervade all of us and everything of our world. He showed us that we can hardly even realize how much we are not like God. He didn't have a five year plan or a twelve step recovery model. He did show us who God is, gracious and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love, and he showed us how we ought to live, how we were intended to live. I don't think I can sum all this up, but maybe that's the point. That's why we need Christ, because we can't define what is Truth, we can't control God or God's Word. It is all so much bigger than us. We need it fed to us like the children we are, in small bites. Like the one I had this morning at the rail...
(C) So I can't define my path and I can't say for sure what God intends for the world in concrete terms. Again, this sounds simple but we try to do this all the time, right? At least I do. We have glimpses and a simple Way of love – Love God, Love Neighbor. This seems manageable, but we can hardly manage it. One of the glimpses I have had from God is a type of Call that keeps coming back no matter how much I rationalize it away. It's a call to military chaplaincy. This is something I have not openly talked about, but I figure if you're reading this you know me so it's okay. I am a true believer that the Christian identity transcends national allegiances, that war is always bad, that all people are our brothers and sisters. I believe people of all faiths are God's people. But at the same time I grew up in the Boy Scouts (I'm an Eagle Scout) and while my experiences there are a huge part of my overall call to ministry, they also nearly led me to apply to the Naval Academy. My love of service, of regimented lifestyle, of defined relationships, of commitment to something greater than self, all of these gave me a strong inclination to join the military. That is, until it came in contact with my faith. These seemed irreconcilable. But I keep thinking of the nature of God and God's otherness. Guns, and bombs, and war and strife are not enough to cover up God's Word, are they? Of course not. I think about what I've just learned about in my Old Testament class...that in the beginning God was present in what is translated as “formless and void.” Is the formless void, the Hebrew words literally sounding scary and evoking feelings of shapelessness and the unknown darkness, a problem for God? Of course not! God created the formless void before he gave order to it. I think about what are for me some of the most comforting words of the Bible, from Psalm 139:
“Where can I go from your spirit? Or where can I flee from your presence? If I ascend to heaven, you are there; if I make my bed in Sheol, you are there. If I take the wings of the morning and settle at the limits of the sea, even there your hand shall lead me, and your right hand shall hold me fast. If I say, “Surely the darkness shall cover me, and the light around me become night,” even the darkness is not dark to you; the night is as bright as the day, for darkness is as light to you.”
The way these words affect me, they also affect other hearers. Like, for instance, all those noble women and men who serve in the armed forces. They need to hear God's Word. They need to deepen their faiths, to have someone to talk to, to have the community of faith, to receive the Body and Blood of our Lord, to be washed in the waters of Baptism and so walk in newness of life. In this my personal inclinations are irrelevant. If I am called to Word and Sacrament (I am), if I am called to serve here (I am), if others cannot (many cannot), if the service is needed (it is), what shall I say?
My faith may rightly lead me to question and indeed fight against the use of military force as a means of policy in this world. But, as I reflected above, I don't run the world and I can't control it, God does. I don't make my plans, God does. And those people out there in uniform, they don't make the policy or the big decisions, they have simply committed their lives to something greater than self, something I admire in the core of my being, something to which I have always been called. God's Word is not changed by where it goes, it transforms everything it encounters. Who knows what God will do? I don't know, but I'm inclined to trust God. God has not yet led me astray.