The Call (Or, Vague and Ineffective Spiritual Slang)

As a child, I grew up entrenched in the moderate side of the conservative Baptist spectrum. I went to GA’s every Wednesday until I was twelve, and at that point, I traded GA’s for youth group. I went to Sunday School nearly every Sunday until I graduated high school, and when I did, I plugged in immediately to the local Baptist Collegiate Ministry and started attending a Baptist megachurch in the area.

At every one of these institutions, the idea of the (capital C) Call was emphasized ad naseam. It became a holy game of Where’s Waldo?, searching for, and sometimes manually inserting, God’s Call into my life, though, no one really ever elaborated on a) What exactly they meant when they say The Call, or b) the means by which one discerned it.

The Call. (thuh * kawl) n. 1. The politically correct name used for one’s career aspiration when speaking in a church setting. 2. The name used for vocational Christian ministry, especially during an especially emotional invitation after a provocative sermon, sometimes as a means of subtle coercion. 3. The indistinct draw or pull toward a certain place, person, group, goal, or occupation. (taken from Beasley’s Un-Standard and Clearly Satirical Dictionary of Spiritual Slang, © 2010.)

In my own experience, I have felt “Called” to several things over the course of my life. As a little girl in GA’s (Girls in Action), I felt “Called” to be a missionary every week when we celebrated their birthdays and prayed for their ministries and families. As a teenager, enveloped by a mostly loving and occasionally challenging youth group, I felt “Called” to be a youth worker. As a student in high school—whose confidence was repaired and nourished by an excellent educator—I felt “Called” to be a teacher.

As a camper, I felt “Called” to be a camp counselor, and as a summer camp counselor, I felt “Called” to be a camp staffer (that is, to throw myself joyfully into more than just the summer “counselor” duties). When I was a student, I felt “Called” to be a teacher, and now that I’m on my way to being a teacher, I feel “Called” to be a seminary student.

Point being, the Call I’ve heard for my life has changed as I live.

So now, since I’ve defined “The Call” above, I will now dismantle each of my definitions for it.

Objection to Definition 1.

 Definition 1 defines the Call as “The politically correct name used for one’s career aspiration when speaking in a church setting.” This, in my opinion, is how most people tend to use the term. They take Colossians 3:17 and use it to justify how they spend their time.

Colossians 3:17 “And whatever you do or say, do it as a representative of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks through him to God the Father.”

Plenty of people say their job or occupation is their Calling but do little or nothing with the intention or even awareness that they do so as Christ’s representative.

Objection to Definition 2.

Definition 2 is “The name used for vocational Christian ministry, especially during an especially emotional invitation after a provocative sermon, sometimes as a means of subtle coercion.” This is the invitation-time use of the term, and there are problems here, too. Not everyone is called to quit their jobs and rush to seminary in order to fulfill their Calling. And furthermore, whose to say that vocational Christian ministry requires quitting your job and going to seminary in the first place? Third of all, it’s problematic to bombard people with feelings of guilt and obligation to serve the church in a moment of intense emotional and spiritual turmoil that some feel during an invitation, whether we choose to analyze those feelings or not.

Objection to Definition 3.

Definition 3 defines The Call as “the indistinct draw or pull toward a certain place, person, group, goal, or occupation.” Maybe this is the definition closest to the truth, but I don’t think we’re there quite yet. I used this definition for most of my life, especially when I considered the feelings I had about being a youth worker or missionary or camp staffer. I felt a draw towards those goals or activities, so I assumed it was God calling me to them. But because the “Calls” I have felt in my life have consistently changed over time, I don’t think this definition is quite right either.

So, I propose a fourth definition.

The Call. (thuh * kawl) n. 4. The holy and ineffable magnetism of God.

I think that each of the callings I felt growing up and feel now are one and the same, each valid in its own right. Each time I felt drawn to a particular career goal, or to a certain school, or to a mission opportunity was part of one great Calling, the siren song of relational love.

I say The Call is the same for everyone, though manifesting in different and deeply beautiful ways for each, and, if you’ll excuse the play on words, here it is:

“I no longer call you servants, because a servant does not know his master's business. Instead, I have called you friends, for everything that I learned from my Father I have made known to you.” –Jesus, John 15:15

Again: The Call = The holy and ineffable magnetism of the Spirit, pulling us closer to God through loving, relational friendship with Jesus.

________

I’ve said all that to say this: let’s get rid of spiritual slang, purge it from our lexicon. It’s limiting and exclusive, and doesn’t make much sense anyway.

-H

Book of Eli?

I don’t generally use my blog for movie or book reviews, but after watching Book of Eli last weekend, I knew I would revisit it here. The film stuck with me long after the credits rolled, and as much as I enjoyed it, there are inherent points of contention there as well. Beware, this post will contain spoilers, so move on if you still haven’t seen it!

You can watch the trailer below.

Right away, you can see the draw and the problems here. The draw, obviously, is that in a world after a nuclear war where every Bible has been destroyed, where there is no hope, no color, no joy in being alive, both good and evil see the ultimate value in the Word of God. Denzel Washington, or Eli, is a man fighting to protect the only Bible left in the world. After the nuclear holocaust, a frenzy erupted and every Bible was burned because people blamed God for the war. However, God spoke to Eli (much like God spoke to Samuel, Eli’s charge in the Old Testament) and led him to the last Bible in the world and told him to take it West (to eventually be reprinted again).

Gary Oldman plays a villain who has been searching for a Bible for years, knowing he can use it to manipulate people. Eli kills again and again to keep the Bible out of his hands.

As an allegory of spiritual warfare, perhaps this film could work. Of course protecting the Word is a metaphorical battle. Forces of evil attack it consistently, and the protection of the truth is a daily, eternal war with many casualties.

However, to take life in order to protect a physical copy of the Bible is like spitting on the words within it. Though this is addressed briefly in the film when Eli gives up the Bible to save his friend’s life, the overwhelming violence seems to cancel out Eli’s confession that by “killing so many to protect the book, I forgot what it taught me.”

Eli’s murders are justified by the film; it suggests that in order to protect the Bible and to eventually reprint it so it can help bring the world back to hope and order that sacrifices had to be made. However, I can’t abide this notion. Where do we draw the line? It’s okay to kill the human scum of the earth in order to save the people who are truly searching? The ones on Oldman’s side were searching for truth, too; every life is precious.

Though I loved that the value of the Bible was emphasized in this film as the way to bring hope to a desolate, chaotic world after a devastating war, I can’t help be see the danger in it as well. As followers of Jesus, we can’t afford to abandon our morals in order to spread the Good News. If we do, we become conquistadors, not Christ-followers.

Jesus rebuked Peter for cutting off a man’s ear in attempt to protect His life; in the same way, I believe He would rebuke Eli for murdering to protect a copy of the Bible, and us, for consistently abandoning his commands to spread His name. No one can be led to truth that way; only through love can we bring hope to this world.

Crossing Lines

Come down from the stars, and be close to me.
Let me feel you next to me on the cold driveway;
show me your pleasure at shooting stars.

Keep your blessings, your guidance, your plans.
I can't understand glory.
Sit with me and laugh so I can hear.

Don't build a hedge of protection; take a knife
to the brush. Don't bless my food;
share in the feast. Sit next to me.

Listen to me talk about my day as if
you didn't know it every step, and when I stop
for breath, ask another question, start me again.

Listen to my questions, even if I can't understand the answer.
Embrace me when I accuse, when I shout, when I doubt.
And when I cry into my pillow, be the hand on my back;

the tears falling into my hair are yours. I can't understand
glory, so keep on painting those sunsets and chiseling icicles.
I see most days; point it out to me like you think it's beautiful too.

The planets will keep spinning just as they always have, ever since
you told them too. Leave them be. And my cells will keep on
transcripting and dividing, just as you said.

I can't see a cell, or reach a planet. I can see flecks of gold in
wide eyes, and I can feel calloused hands, rough with
sawdust. Come sit with me on a park bench,

and let's feed the birds.

-Hillary Beasley