Saying yes to God’s call really means surrendering our ‘rights’, being crucified with Christ and submitting to his Lordship, even more than we have done until this point.
‘I kind of think this should be the very first question a Vocations Adviser asks in the Selection Process, “so tell me, when did you first agree to die?”’
In Chapter One I talked about the significance of both me and Linsey responding to God’s call at Spring Harvest. I realised relatively recently that agreeing to that big ‘yes’ had made every subsequent decision much easier (See ‘Who am I?’). Here’s why. When any of us say ‘yes’ to a call from God we are not saying ‘yes’ to a job or a role. What we’re really saying yes to is recognising that we need to be reimagined, and allowing God to begin that process with us. Saying yes to God’s call really means surrendering our ‘rights’, being crucified with Christ and submitting to his Lordship, even more than we have done until this point. I kind of think this should be the very first question a Vocations Adviser[1] asks in the Selection Process, “so tell me, when did you first agree to die?”[2]
When I stood at the front of that tent in 1989, like never before, I felt like Gladiator. If asked, ‘who are you?’ and ‘what do you say about yourself?’, effectively I could have said, “My name is Maximus Decimus Meridius, Commander of the Armies of the North, General of the Felix Legions, loyal servant to the true emperor, Marcus Aurelius. Father to a murdered son, husband to a murdered wife. And I will have my vengeance, in this life or the next”[3] (maybe not that last bit). I believed that from that moment on my identity would be as secure as that type of character, and envisaged facing off modern day priests and Levites with defiant and articulate speeches, just as John the Baptist went on to do.
‘I knew I would have to allow God to do a work of reimagining possibilities in and for my life. That is what I’d said yes to’.
But then I walked away from the platform and those praying for me. And rather than Gladiator, I immediately felt much more like a children’s TV character I had grown up with in 1970s, the timid, fearful and stuttering, ‘Laaaarrry the Laaaammmb’ from Toytown[4]. In that moment, the reality and enormity of making such a public commitment hit me, and I was flooded with insecurities and uncertainties. Without using the language I knew God would not only have to be the one who called me, but the one to change me, in order that I could be effective for Him in anyway. I knew I would have to allow God to do a work of reimagining possibilities in and for my life. That is what I’d said yes to. That is what the friends above said yes to (See ‘Reimagining not Reimagined).
And in the thirty years since, just when I think I’ve got it sussed, and I’ve finally made it to being Gladiator Maximus, and am exhibiting an exterior that is confident and strong, my inner Larry is unleashed. What emerges is vulnerability and anxiety, and I know there’s more reimagining to be done, more death and resurrection is necessary.
It was Dietrich Bonhoeffer (speaking from not such a gender aware age), who famously said, ‘When Christ calls a man, he bids him come and die’. God’s call is always an invitation, but not an invitation to a function. Our response therefore, is not so much about choosing a job, it’s about choosing a posture, an inclination of the heart, one of inviting God to keep reimagining possibilities in us.
‘Let us have an answer…’
I’m guessing that you may well be reading this book because you are wrestling with an ‘echo of a whisper of a call’. As I write, it makes me wonder who might end up reading these words, and what thoughts and feelings God’s call may be unlocking within you – what’s your story? I’d love to be there right now, helping you navigate what can often feel like a disturbing process. But the best I can offer is to encourage you to allow those thoughts and feelings to prompt the profound questions: ‘Who are you? What do you say about yourself?’ (See Reimagining Possibilities). And to urge you to see them as an invitation which you respond to as honestly as possible.
‘[there] is no other way into the deep things of God but a broken spirit’.
Smith Wigglesworth
Maybe you are secure and confident about who you are, what you stand for and where you’re going in life. You do not hesitate in your answers to those questions. Although that is great now, I encourage you to remember Larry the Lamb. There are very few people who never get to the point of despair, or being undone by such profound questions. My own experience, and what I’ve seen in others, is that the sooner you get to that place, the sooner you can begin to allow God to do an even more beautiful work in you. As Smith Wigglesworth said, ‘[there] is no other way into the deep things of God but a broken spirit’.
The more common starting point is one of personal uncertainty and insecurity, expressed in those, “it cannot”, “I’m not”, “I don’t know”, “God has got it wrong”, “the church would never…” kind of statements. It strikes me that those are actually the very best responses God could hope for. Simply because they reflect a soft and humble heart which he can mould; they admit a need for death and resurrection. The truth is that we may look at ourselves and see what is; reimagining possibilities is about looking at ourselves and seeing by God’s grace, what could be.
The Bible is replete with characters that God called, who felt just as helpless as us, but whom he transformed and used to change the world. The New Testament particularly, is full of stories of Jesus saying, “come as you, with all your weaknesses and messed-up-ness, but don’t stay as you are”. Think of the disciples. They were a raggle taggle bunch of no-hopers. But Jesus called them, chose them, and invested in them. So much so that just a very small group of people were able to turn the world upside-down. The catch of course, was that they had to ‘leave their nets and follow him’[5]; they had to lay down the things which represented their very lives.
God calls, and our response forces us to ask: “Who am I? What do I say about myself?”. Honest answers to those questions allow us to acknowledge the necessity of transformation. In saying ‘yes’ we recognise that only God can undertake that work in us. It is when we acknowledge our need, and recognise God’s ability, that the reimagining of possibilities can begin.
So, ‘Who are you?’ and ‘What do you say about yourself?’ The disciples’ response to Jesus’ was to leave their nets ‘at once’ because his invitation was so enticing. But what do you say? Are you ready, like them, to say ‘yes’ to God beginning this glorious work of transformation in your life?
‘Let
us have an answer…’
[1] A Vocations Adviser is usually an officer of a diocese, available to help with the discernment process.
[2] This paragraph could be a description of someone becoming a Christian. The problem is that we often seem to put ideas of calling and vocation into a different category from the on-going sense of surrender, characteristic of being a disciple of Jesus. I’m seeking to suggest that they should not be separated, but rather a natural and intrinsic part of the on-going journey of discipleship. To say ‘yes’ to being called is just another opportunity to submit one’s life even further to the Lordship of Jesus.
[3] Gladiator, 2000
[4] Larry is available to re-visit on You Tube, do look him up – he will enlighten, amuse and possibly disturb you.
[5] Matthew 4:20