Your Life, Your Vocation
Luke 14:25-33
I want to talk today about something that is a problem and a
challenge for every single person. The
challenge is – how do we find an honest, balanced, wise view of the work we do
in the wider context of our lives? That
is, how can we develop an accurate and healthy view of ourselves that isn’t
distorted in some way by our feelings about our jobs and careers?
I really do think this is a challenge for everyone. It’s a challenge for young people who are
still in school. Young people, you have
to make sure your dreams about adulthood don’t fixate only on career
choices. Your life will be much richer
than your job. I hope you like what you
do. But it’s even more important to like
who you become, and to develop a life rich and satisfying in love and
friendship.
It’s a challenge for people retired or nearing
retirement. Whether you had one job or
twenty; whether you are proud of your work life or not; whether you made lots
of money or barely enough to get by; whether you were fired from your last job
or sent off with a retirement celebration – it’s difficult to avoid linking our
identity, our worth and value to our success or failure in the workplace. It’s difficult to see the paid work we’ve
done as only a small part of the wide range of commitments that make up a full
and satisfying life.
It’s a challenge for those of us who are working right
now. How do you spend a majority of your
time and energy each week at your job and NOT identify yourself with that
work? This unbalanced,
over-identification with work can happen whether you love your job or hate
it. If you love it, you likely let its
importance swell and crowd out other parts of who you are. If you hate it, you likely judge yourself
much too harshly and fail to see all the other ways you are a blessing to
others.
But I don’t want to talk to you about your jobs, the jobs
you plan to have, the jobs you’re doing, or the jobs from which you
retired. I want to talk to you about
your “vocation.” Did you know you have a
“vocation”? Maybe that’s not a word you
use much. But it’s actually a very
helpful word. And so if it’s a word
you’ve never heard or never used, I’d like to offer it to you today. And if it’s a word that sounds familiar but
is a little vague or musty, I’d like to help you dust it off and put it to use.
In our culture, “vocational” education is education aimed at
career training. Vo-tech is short for a
very specific, very practical form of education that aims at job preparedness. So “vocation” has become simply a synonym for
a job or a career path. But that is to
pare down a wonderful, rich and beautiful word into a very small thing.
“Vocation” is a very old word. It’s the Latin word that translates into
English as “calling.” You can hear that
sense of voice or calling in the Latin root “vocatio” in words like vocal
cords, or when we speak of someone who is “equivocating” (saying two things). If something is “evocative,” it “speaks” to
me.
Now let me get to what really matters about “vocation” or
being “called”. You live your life as a
person who is addressed and called. You
came into the world as a person with a “call” on your life. It’s sort of like you live your daily life
within the context of an ever-present invitation. So what is the “call”? What is this “invitation”? It’s the call and invitation to be God’s
friend.
That is your calling, your vocation – to be God’s
friend. The good news first: it is a
wonderful thing to be God’s friend. It
is the best possible life. It is a life
that is deeply satisfying and richly rewarding.
It makes possible joy in the midst of pain, resilience in the midst of
hardship, hope in the midst of despair.
Plus, by being God’s friends, we’re friends with other friends of
God.
Now there’s really no bad news. Only some news that is harder to hear. You might call this the “cost” side of the
equation. And this is where today’s
gospel reading comes in. Our reading is
one of Jesus’ sharpest articulations of the call to become his disciples. And as you can tell, Jesus has high
expectations for following him and becoming friends of God. It will cost us something. And it’s worth taking a few minutes, or a few
days or years, to do the calculations on whether the benefits of being God’s
friends is worth the cost.
Jesus says to the large crowds following him, “If anyone
comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers
and sisters – yes, even life itself – such a person cannot be my disciple” (v.
26). This might sound shocking to us,
since we live in a culture that has equated godliness with “family
values.” But it won’t be surprising if you
listen to Luke’s gospel.
Jesus warns us to invite the poor and the disabled to our
banquets, not just our “brothers” and “relatives” (ch. 14). When he is sought by his mother and siblings,
he dismisses the importance of bloodlines and says that his new family are
“those who hear the Word of God and do it” (ch. 8). And he promises that those who have given up
“wife or brothers or parents or children, for the sake of the kingdom of God”
will receive “very much more in this age, and in the age to come, eternal life”
(ch. 18).
Jesus helps us recognize that loyalty to his way will run
deeper even than our family ties. It
will be a commitment far deeper than our patriotic loyalty to country and our
political views about how the economy should work. The teaching seems harsh because one of our
deepest hopes is that we can just add a little religious faith to the lives
we’ve already built. We’ve spent all
this time weaving a life, and one of our greatest fears is that he will ask us
to unweave it and start over. We had
already arranged the furniture just how we like it. But now he is going to rearrange it.
Jesus says to the large crowds following him, “And whoever
does not carry their cross and follow me cannot be my disciple” (v. 27). Jesus says to the large crowds following him,
“those of you who do not give up everything you have cannot be my disciples” (v.
33). In other words, if we cannot get
past our fear of pain, our fear of suffering and hardship, our fear of
conflict, we will have a hard time following Jesus. And if we are attached to our things, our
income, our savings, our possessions, our standard of living in a way that
traps us, we will have a very hard time following Jesus.
These are hard things to hear. Perhaps the two mini-stories that Jesus tells
us can help us sort it out. Both stories
involve the need for thoughtful decision making before beginning a large
project. Whether you’re building a tower
or planning to go to war, there should be a period of analyzing the costs of
the project. And in these particular
examples, we can easily grant what Jesus says.
It would be a silly thing to break ground on a new building and then to
stop after laying the foundation because we ran out of money. And it would be a silly thing to go into
battle with only a meager little band of cowards riding sickly mules and
carrying butter knives.
And yet we often fail to see that following Jesus, and
becoming God’s friend, presents us with the very same dilemma. There will be a cost to the project. The kind of loyalty he expects will bring us
into conflict with many of our other, precious and cherished loyalties -- like
family, patriotism, possessions and lifestyle.
Not everyone in that large crowd following Jesus kept following
him. Perhaps not everyone who is here
this morning will want to keep following him.
But even those of us who want to stay with him will have to come to
grips with the cost of being God’s friends.
Your vocation – your calling - is to love the world
extravagantly, as Jesus does.
Now I hope you can see that your “vocation” or your
“calling” is much larger than your job or your career. It is your way of sharing in God’s ongoing
project of blessing, reconciling, healing, and renewing the whole world. But if you want to be God’s friend, you do
have to agree to a way of life whose first commitment and organizing focus is
God’s kingdom.
Now let me try to explain why your job or career is sort of
important, but sort of not. Our economy
isn’t very helpful when it comes to the task of seeing ourselves as whole human
beings, with a wide variety of abilities and commitments. When we are young and when we are old, we
aren’t usually doing paid work. The
economy really has no way to value those periods of life. Nor does it value unpaid work, like caring
for children or caring for aging parents or friends. It calls into question the dignity and worth
of those who are paid very little, and casts serious question on those who
cannot find work or who are disabled.
And even when we are working, our work usually only draws on a very
small fraction of who we are and what we’re capable of. And there are large areas of our lives that
are of little use to the economy – and these areas of life are usually
dismissed and belittled.
Now what if you could have a larger sense of your life’s
importance? What if not just the
productive parts of you mattered? What
if all of you mattered? All your ranges
of capabilities and powers? All the wide
spectrum of your emotional life and your passions and interests? What if your life had an abiding and constant
worth and dignity no matter your age?
What if you felt equally valued all through the various phases of life -
as a young child, as an adolescent, an adult, and as a retired person?
That’s what it feels like to have a “vocation.” That’s what it feels like to wake every day
into the invitation to live as God’s friends.
Now of course, your job or career matters, in the sense that it’s what
you do with a good chunk of your day for the middle portion of your life. But it doesn’t define you. A successful career doesn’t define you. Nor does a disappointing career. You weren’t created for a career. You were created to be God’s friends.
Our calling isn’t “going to church” or being
“religious.” Our calling is to share in
God’s work of healing and blessing everything.
Going to church is just a helpful way to find friendships with others
who can encourage us to stay focused and disciplined in the hard work of being
God’s friends.
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