SERMON: "Hearing Your Calling"

Rev. Paul Beedle

May 18, 2008

When I served in the UUA's Pacific Southwest District (which includes southern California, southern Nevada, and all of Arizona), I got to know Roy Phillips, who was then serving a congregation in Tucson. Roy has been one of the leading thinkers and innovators in the shared ministry movement, which seeks to create stronger and more resilient partnerships between lay and ordained leaders in congregations. He talked with me about how churches have changed over his thirty-plus years in ministry, and how he has changed his approach to ministry.

He said that when he started out, ministers were seen as providers of spiritual care, in the way that doctors are seen as providers of health care. His seminary training was geared that way, and to a certain extent, I realized, so was mine. But over time, Roy felt more and more that something was missing. So he started, as he puts it, to “decline invitations to take charge.” He didn't want to shirk his responsibility – and he stepped in when he knew he should – but he wanted to experiment to see if he could evoke ministry from others, to draw out and encourage their leadership and their nurture of others. By shifting his energy to encourage the leadership of others, both in lay leadership and on his church staff, he was able to take up a more effective ministry himself: one of training and developing the leadership and ministry skills of others, and to find good matches between people's gifts and the work that needed to be done.

I became a Unitarian Universalist in a congregation that already practiced shared ministry, so I could appreciate what Roy was talking about. At the Unitarian Universalist Fellowship of Huntington, New York, I found a community in which I could explore and grow spiritually, develop my skills for leadership and collaboration, and eventually hear my call to ministry. That was possible because the congregation had cultivated a robust philosophy and practice of shared leadership and shared ministry where everyone's gifts and everyone's growth were valued.

In his book, Letting Go, Roy writes:

Today's congregations have a need for ... a paradigm shift from membership to ministry. ... In the membership paradigm, people become members of an organization that promises to deliver their spiritual care. They are asked to perform institution-maintenance tasks in order to keep them involved. The ministry paradigm, in contrast, engages people in inward gifts discernment and outward expression of their core gifts and values, alone and with others, in personal and shared ministry – in their homes and congregations, out in their communities, among their friends and among strangers, and in their workplaces.

That last point – that shared ministry and gifts discernment isn't just a new language for talking about members taking on the institutional tasks of the congregation, but rather is a way to focus on how to foster others' spiritual growth – is a crucial one for making the paradigm shift Roy describes. He says:

Misgivings are inevitable as the transformational process takes place. One concern that recurred was worry that we were adding new work to what was already going on. ... Another objection we heard again and again was from people who liked the idea but said, “I think the congregation is on the right track with this new emphasis, but frankly, I don't have time for ministry. I'm too busy being a mother (or too busy at a job) to take on a ministry, too.” There were delightful moments too, however, when because of something we said or asked, those same people began to light up with a dawning realization that being a mother or a teacher or being effective in their work is the very kind of gifts-based, worldly ministry that we were saying the congregation should encourage.

At Thoreau, we affirm that: “We honor the passions and talents of all members of our community and wish to help each one find a calling to lead.” We didn't say, we wish to help each one find a committee to serve on or a task to do. For some of us, one or more of the ministries of this congregation is a calling – our passion is to create effective congregational ministries that make a difference in others' lives. For others of us, our passion is elsewhere, or may lay yet undiscovered. Our talents are given to earn our livelihood or raise our family. We may be happy to help with organizational work to be supportive, at least from time to time. But we don't need help to find a calling to lead in the congregation. We have one. It might be our work, it might be our family, it might be in service through another organization. And what we seek here is community, support in life's challenging times, and spiritual sustenance for our personal growth and for our pursuit of our calling.

Actually, those of us who do find our calling in the ministries of the congregation have the same needs as those who don't: community, support in life's challenging times, and spiritual sustenance. So the real question is, do we know each other well enough? Do we know each others' passions and talents well enough to honor them? Do we know how we can help each other find a calling, or how we can support each other in callings already found?

I lived most of my life before my father said to me that accounting was his calling. When I understood that – that for him, his profession was not just a way to make money but was a way his particular unique package of passions and talents could effectively make a difference in the world – I understood a lot more about him. I understood why he did every puzzle in the newspaper every day: he loves solving puzzles, and accounting is full of puzzles to solve. I understood why he left so early for work and came home so late: he was committed. I understood why he attended professional conferences: he wanted to learn and grow in order to do his best. In his church life, yes, he served on the Session (that's what Presbyterians call their Board) and on committees, and he had gifts to bring to those groups and gave his best. But what he chose to do consistently over many years was to attend and lead Bible studies – because he was motivated to learn and explore more about that text and to grow more faithful to his values and more rooted in them in how he lived his life and pursued his calling. This was not his calling, but something he sampled and dabbled in and tasted at first, and later challenged himself to go deeper into, because it offered spiritual sustenance for his personal growth and for his pursuit of his calling.

Thoreau offers a great variety of activities – in service in the community, in spiritual exploration, and, yes, in many kinds of organizational work. Opportunities to serve in the community include our involvements with Hearts and Hammers, East Fort Bend Human Needs Ministry, SEARCH and soon Fort Bend Family Promise. In the near future we'll begin Service Sundays with projects we can all engage in here on a Sunday morning. Opportunities for spiritual exploration include classes that I or others lead, and covenant groups, and ADG, and more. These activities might in some cases be part of making the difference you're called to make in this world, in other cases it might just be something you're glad to do to help out, and in others it might be something that offers spiritual sustenance for your personal growth. The trick is to find a balance in your life – a balance that does not have to be struck only here. If your calling is elsewhere, you don't have to find it here. And not everything that feeds your spirit must come from Thoreau – it may come from working in your garden. But do find that balance. Know what you are looking for. See if we already offer it, or if we can. Explore. Create. Seek.

In your Order of Service you'll find a leaf. Take some time now to reflect on what you are looking for at Thoreau. Think of things you know are already going on here. Think of things you would like to happen here. On one side of that leaf, write down two or three things that are going on here already that you would commit to try out in the next 60 days, in the spirit of exploration and discovery. To branch out, to see what's what. On the other side, write down something you would like to try to help create here. We have pens available – if you need one, raise your hand. We'll take a few minutes to reflect and write, and then I'll ask you to put your leaf on the tree up front here. There's tape nearby it. You can put your name on your leaf, or not, your choice. We'll keep the tree up for you to peruse in the coming weeks, and we'll have more blank leaves for others to add to it. We'll report back its contents in Ponderings so that folks with similar ideas for new things to do can communicate and consult and collaborate and make them happen if there's energy for it. And folks who lead existing activities can prepare for their floods of visitors! Sound good?

Good! Let's take a few minutes to reflect and write.

[music]

I invite you to put your leaf on the tree if you're ready.

[more music]

May we each find a balance of callings to lead, gifts to give, and learning and growth to feed our spirits, within and beyond these walls. So may it be. Amen.