Of Visions and Vocation

Surprisingly, one of the hardest things about being in seminary is the plethora of genuinely lovely people who lead rousing, inspirational, moving and deep worship services.  There are so many people with rich life stories who have taken the opportunity to cultivate their wisdom, lovingkindness and authenticity—and proceed to blow you away with their amazing worship services.  I’m pretty sure none of them ever flipped anyone off in traffic, or dropped the F-bomb in a Sunday school classroom full of 13-year-olds.  I have.

I’m so distracted by their gifts that I can’t remember my own.  Furthermore, whatever talents I do have seem tiny and undeveloped compared to the talents of those around me.  When it was just my home congregation’s minister that was amazing, it was easier to imagine I could at least become adequate.  Now I can’t remember why I thought divinity school was a necessary step on my path to vocational discernment.  The intention is to identify my unique gifts, and apply those gifts in a way that the world most needs.  The temptation is to find the most brilliant minister here and copy.  Reminds me of a quote Parker Palmer shares in Letting Your Life Speak: When he was an old man, Rabbi Zusya said “In the coming world they will not ask me why I was not more like Moses.  They will ask me why I was not more like Zusya.”

Parker Palmer also said “Vocation at its deepest level is, ‘this is something I can’t not do, for reasons I’m unable to explain to anyone else and don’t fully understand myself but that are nonetheless compelling.’”  Before I got here, those unexplainable reasons were reason enough to move 2000 miles from my children, even if I couldn’t explain why.  Deep inside, despite the panic-inspired doubts, I still know it's the right decision. I’m right where I need to be, even if I can’t say why.

To ease my panic, I dropped my pastoral care class and picked up a social justice class.  That way, should this year of discernment lead me to conclude I am indeed not minister material, I can pursue the academic route and switch to the Master of Arts in Theological Research and all of my classes will still count toward that degree.  Just having that little bit of breathing room has shifted things already.  I’m still not confident that parish ministry is for me.  But I am confident that I can bring myself fully into this unique experience, allow it to shape me, and listen to hear whether or not the still small voice within me sings more clearly as a result.

You may have noticed that I’m struggling to reconcile Christian dogma with my own beliefs in universal salvation and the unity of God. The summer before I began medical school, following a period of deep contemplation of scripture, I had a series of visionary dreams where God told me that dogma is the fly in the honey of spiritual practice, and we’d serve God better by abandoning it.  Yet I am challenged to find spiritual community or commit myself to spiritual practice without the glue/fire/purpose/passion that dogma provides. To make matters worse, the dream called me to share this vision with other people in an effort to “mend our broken world,” and I can't quite articulate the vision let alone share it. 

After 22 years of wrestling with those dreams I think I have the answer at last: “Give up on all types of dogma: beliefs about God, humanity and Nature.  Instead, work for justice.”  Does this mean I can go home now?