(This is a guest post from Margie)
D&C 121:40 “…many are called, but few are chosen.”
I heard a story this week. Oprah was talking about one of her early conversations with Maya Angelou. And Maya said to Oprah, “I can see who you are, girl… And what you are is obedient. You are obedient to the call.” I felt the pull of those words as a sensation in my body.
I had taken for granted that the word “obedient” had little but negative connotation for me. I had learned, like many of us here at Wheat and Tares, in a hard school that the price of being an obedient girl (or child, or person of any gender) meant things I couldn’t countenance: cruelty, willful ignorance. By the time I was in my twenties, “obedient” was no longer a badge of honor. I actively distrusted it and those who aspired to it.
So the longing I felt when I heard the word this week took me by surprise.
Maybe it’s because, deep down, I know there is both ease and even virtue in obedience. Life is overwhelming. Choices are hard. In any given situation, like anybody else, I try to make the best choice. But how to choose? So many competing priorities abound, and most choices of any importance at all require real tradeoffs. Do I pick the honest thing? The kind one? Do I pick the thing that hurts the fewest people? The thing that protects the most vulnerable? Do I try to pick the thing that does the most good for the most people, or the thing that prevents the worst actors from enacting their worst impulses?
That is where, for many of us, the “call” comes in. The call is the inner voice that tells us what is most important, our internal guidance system. The thing inside us that knows what is right. In Latter-day Saint theology we might call this the Light of Christ, or for baptized and confirmed members, the gift of the Holy Ghost, but in my experience most people have a call. Oprah described it this way, “It’s leaning into what the forces of life have intended for you and understanding that every choice leads you in the direction of your highest calling if you’re willing to be obedient to it.” That sounds very grand and suitably Oprah (I love her), but for most people I suspect the call is more mundane. It might be an instinct to fairness, or to honesty (honesty is most definitely what calls many non-LDS friends), it might be to freedom. For my parents, it’s the call of the prophets and the institutional Church. Most people, I suspect, have a call.
It took me a long time realize this because I don’t have one. I am not called. When I am faced with a choice where values and priorities conflict, I hear no voices, feel no forces. Like anybody, I tend to favor some virtues (kindness, mercy, patience) over others (justice, urgency, honesty), but I do not hear these preferences as calls. I make the just, urgent and sometimes painfully honest choice just as reliably as I’ll take the kind, merciful, patient path.
When you don’t have a call, what you get instead is a choice: over and over and over. And choices are exhausting. This is why obedience to a truly worthy call is so valuable. The obedient decided to decide, and that’s all there is to it. I think it’s often simpler than that—many hear their calls so clearly, they can’t even point to a moment of conscious decision. “I think I must have been born with a testimony,” I once heard Marjorie Pay Hinckley tell a group of missionaries.
It is painful to choose. Every time you choose, if you’re doing it well, it costs you. It costs you time. It costs you the knowledge of what you’re sacrificing. It costs you the recognition that you might be wrong. It robs you of the certainty of ever being right.
Many are called. But I do wonder how much is truly chosen.
Discussion Questions:
Do you hear the call/ have a call? What is it?
If you aren’t called, do you wish that you were? Explain.
Is there a false binary here? To what extent? Can you be called in some important things but have to choose others?
Is “obedient” a loaded word for you? Why or why not?
Do you think there is value in obedience? Under what circumstances?
Wheat & Tares 
Fascinating post. I’ve felt what could be labeled a call, and that has to do with my profession. I took a few years off between high school and college and just worked because I really didn’t know what I wanted to do. As soon as I went to a university and took my first class (a Shakespeare course, summer of ’86), I instantly realized how much I loved poetry and how much I wanted to be a teacher. That’s probably as close to a “call” as I’ve ever felt. And it has stayed with me every day since that class nearly forty years ago. And I consider myself extremely fortunate to have been able to become a teacher of literature.
To answer your question about what the “call” is, it’s hard to describe. Mostly, it’s something I feel deep down in the center of my body; for me, it’s a very bodily thing, not an intellectual thing. It feels physiological. I’m sure that still sounds rather vague, but that’s the closest I can come to it.
To your other questions: I think one can feel called, but also impelled towards other things. Also at university, I started really getting into learning about and making music (as a guitarist); I love music even more than teaching and poetry and so I naturally (mistakenly) thought I was called to be a musician. However, the instrument lets you know relatively quickly how good you’re going to be on it and, as much as I love music, the guitar let me know that I was not called to play it in ways that would allow me to be a professional and build a life around making music. I was angry and frustrated about that for a while when I was young, but I was lucky enough to have felt that poetry/teaching thing calling me as well, and that was the one I chose to follow, and it has worked out wonderfully.
Religiously, I haven’t felt the call so much. I felt what I still believe to be the Holy Ghost really strongly several times at crucial moments (deciding to join the church, e.g.), but for whatever reason, it hasn’t left as much of an impression on me as the call I’ve felt towards poetry and teaching. Maybe that’s bad; I don’t know. Maybe it means I’m disobedient; I don’t know that, either. I do know, though, that I was put on this earth to be a teacher and I’ve tried to take that responsibility seriously so that I never let my students down. I don’t know if that qualifies as obedience, but it at least makes me feel like I’m taking serious things seriously, and for now, that feels like it’s enough.
Brother Sky, Wow. Let’s be friends. (I’m a teacher too, though this past year I am out of the classroom and into an administrative role.) Last year I taught a course where we focused a lot of time on reading 19th century British poetry. The group of students I had was so sharp, and the class period was long enough that we got through both “Rime of the Ancient Mariner” and “Goblin Market,” out loud, together. We did each one in a single sitting. The “Goblin Market” class was during a fierce thunderstorm and is probably one of my favorite teaching memories ever. We all left totally creeped out and completely in love with the poem.
You paint such a vivid picture of your own calling–I don’t doubt you have been obedient to that call, and you and your students are better for it. How lucky the students are to have you. I hear you about music too. It became very evident, very early that the limits to how far I’d go as a musician were, um, real.
If you had asked me even ten years ago I would have probably told you I had felt the guidance of the Holy Ghost in certain, infrequent matters. I remember going to the temple, for example, after it was apparent Prop 8 was going to be a thing for the Church (I live in California) and telling the Lord, “I just can’t DO this,” and hearing what felt like a voice from outside me answer powerfully in my head, “Then don’t.” But in hindsight, even that wasn’t an affirmation of the choice I was making it, it was more of a “You do you” that could have easily come from the depths of my own psyche. I mean, I guess if we want to get very metaphysical, who’s to say that’s not the Spirit, if God created everything, my psyche included?
Obedience is loaded for me because it feels like 99% of the time it is obedience to human authority. I learned much too early that these humans may pretend to have my best interest in mind, but often they just want to control me for their own selfish purposes. Oh, sure, sometimes it is necessary like obeying the law and unless it is harmful, then it is best to obey. Other times it obedience to people who are in a position to help or hurt me, such as school teachers or bosses and it may be in my best interest to obey. Other times it is claimed authority and I may or may not want what obedience brings. So, I am kind of suspiciously obedient to earthly authority.
And yes, I had a call and yes there were constant decisions and I made some of them in ways that put up barriers to doing my calling. So, just because it always feels like you are having to make painful choices, does not mean you do not have a call. And I really do not believe “many are called but few are chooses.” If you are called, it is BECAUSE you are chosen. God does not issue callings and then reject us as not good enough. That would be religion. Religion rejects people as not good enough. God AWAYS accepts our best efforts.
Now, just because you call is not spectacular or earth shattering does not mean you don’t have one. Not all of us are Frodo. Some of us are Sam. Some of us are Pippin, or Boromir. And of course some get to be Gandalf. But we each have a call and each was necessary.
So, look smaller. Sometimes our call is in a home rather than the battle field. And most often it is not grand. Just necessary to someone. “In as much as ye have done it unto the least of these, ye have done it unto me.” Giving comfort to a grieving friend is not spectacular, but it may be “the least of these.” Raising a disabled child may not be spectacular. Raising any child is normal and so many women do it without thought. Caring for elderly parents is really so common and we don’t think of these common things as callings, but it is being willing to do it unto the least of these. 99 times out of 100 you calling will be so normal feeling you just won’t see it as a calling, because it is just what you do. Circumstances call you to raise *this* child, or help this friend, or comfort this relative. It isn’t some lightening out of the sky declaring you are going to be a grand hero and then you go looking. Nope. You find yourself in a situation where you just do.
As Sam said, we don’t pick the times we are born to. We just sort of go through life doing what has to be done, and sometimes it turns out to be a big something or a hard trial and other times it is just mundane going through life and helping the people we come across. If ye have done something good or kind to someone who is nobody, some unimportant nobody, then maybe you have done something grand and glorious. Maybe you are looking too hard for a calling that impresses the world and not something that impresses God
Hi Anna! I love Lord of the Rings, and I agree that the”size” of the roles we fill is not correlated to their importance. Samwise has long been one of my favorites. But was he called? Or did he choose? Or was it both? I’d rather choose, I think. As messy and heavy as that is, I think I’d rather choose: but maybe that’s making my own agency a false idol? I don’t know.
I think part of my reluctance to believe in calls dates back to my own baggage with obedience. I don’t mind, truly, obeying a worthy authority, even a flawed one, because we’ve got to organize ourselves somehow. What I can’t stand stand is flawed authority pretending to be inerrant. Those people and ideas are dangerous to obey.
This is a wonderful post from an obvious sharp thinker. It raises excellent points.
The correctness of the phrase “many are called” depends on one’s point of view. For in one sense, someone must be listening in order to be called. A call to someone who is not listening is not really a call.
And few there are who are listening to the call. Instead, the great masses are spending their time playing violent video games as Bon Jovi blares in the background. They have abandoned any ability to even hear a call.
So in a sense, few are chosen because few are listening. There is simply no need to choose any additional people who think that hot dog eating contests are the height of culture.
I was “called”to come back here. Hehehe. I was about to shut my iPad and go do something else, but I got a strong feeling to check back here.
Margie, I have a pretty big hang up about obedience, too, so we should be friends. We might be able to learn from each other how to deal with our objection to obedience.
Sam was called, ordered in fact by Gandalf, AND chose. So did Frodo. He could have said no. Several points in the story gave him a chance to say no, but at that council, when they were all discussing and fighting over taking and destroying the ring, he said, “I’ll do it.” And it gets deathly silent. Frodo felt called and he made a decision.
We all get to choose, free agency and all. But choosing does not mean it isn’t a call. The beggar asking for food is a calling. Yes, it is the beggar asking, not God. But then again, it is God because “in as much as ye did it unto the least of these.” We don’t have to be aware of our calling for it to be a calling. We just have to make a decision.
I had a client once. Recovering anorexic. She had an opportunity to help other anorexics. She sat I my office and said, “I can’t do it. I am not ready. What if it triggers me?” I listened. Just kind of reflecting back to her. Then I asked how she would feel next year, two years from now if she doesn’t do it. And she concluded that she couldn’t refuse.
Some people have a Brother Sky moment of getting their calling. Others of us are dragged into it kicking and screaming. I had a friend. She had a Downs baby. She was only early 20s so the doctor wasn’t even considering looking for Downs. He missed it. A few weeks later the baby’s doctor suspected and ordered the tests. Yup, this mother was drug kicking and screaming into what she had decided was her calling. She still had a choice, but it was a hell of a bad set of choices. The child was three when we were neighbors for a few months and the young mother had decided that God had sent her this baby. See, her calling. Others never recognize a calling. All are fine. Others are given different callings at different times in their life. A calling can be big or tiny. Doesn’t have to be a career. It an be another person. Or a life purpose. Or just a value. One could say that Alex Pretti had a calling. He was a nurse, and his last act was trying to help a woman who had been shoved. But did he know he had a calling to help others? Did Samwise know he had a calling, or did he only see Frodo as the one with the calling.
Anna, thank you for heeding the call. 😉 I’ve read so many of your thoughtful comments over the years that I feel like we already are friends. You’ve got hard-earned wisdom, lady. And you’re generous with it too. If I am understanding you right, what you’re saying is -everyone- is called, but some of us choose to or cannot experience the calls as such. We call them something else, like “choices” in my case. I love that final question you ask. I’ll sit with that for a while.
JCS, I have a dark confession: I let my children wear crocs. All the time. They love them. I’m considering buying my own pair. I may even wear them, on occasion, to work. But also “a call to someone who is not listening is not really a call” is profound. Thank you. It makes me wonder how and where I fail to show up as a listener.
I remember a few years back when some of the W&T permabloggers were discussing how sustainable nuanced/middle way/progressive Mormonism (or however you want to name it) can be, in the face of an institution that does not appreciate or nurture it.
And one of the things I proposed was that members trying this approach would need to have an independent sense of calling to persist with the church and with Mormonism in this way, and an independent source of energy to counteract being drained at church/by church. Otherwise, you’ll just burn out. Like, if you’re ever expecting the church to change its mind and start institutionally accepting middle way folks, you’re probably just going to be disappointed and burnt out. You have to be comfortable with moving to the beat of your own drum, and OK with the fact that plenty of other members will call you a heretic or worse for that. And, secondly, you have to be called to continue striving with Mormons, because if you lack that, you could definitely move to the beat of your own drum anywhere, not just within an LDS context. An independent source of energy *and* a sense of calling to use that energy in community with Mormons are both required.
I have been listening/watching to a lot of podcasts from Britt Hartley, an exmormon who got a master’s in theology, had her entire faith deconstructed upwards and downwards, went through nihilism, all of that, and is now trying to build things back up and walk through how others can do the same — “no non-sense spirituality” as she calls it. And the one thing that she comes back to in several of her podcast episodes is this realization: there’s a lot of things in the bundle of religion that are still valuable to human beings, but doing this stuff on your own without a ready made myth and narrative is HARD , and not a lot of people have the temperament and time and energy to do it. It doesn’t look like secular society, atheists, etc., have done anywhere near as good a job as religious organizations at creating a ready made “package” for life formation, moral development, etc., Even the people who have tried simply haven’t been able to create something as “sticky” as the religious organizations we decry.
So, perhaps “obedience” to a prepackaged formulation is healthy for some (many?), even if it’s not “true”, even if the package comes with other things we don’t want, even if many other people will need to find their own way because the packaged solution is stifling to them and does not fit them.
I don’t think I am particularly “called” to anything. I am a rather selfish person, so ultimately what rings loudest in my ears is my own pain or joy. I can know when the messages I’m hearing at church are painful to *me*, and then I can know when my mind, my body, everything within me is telling me, “preserve yourself!” I think of the advice on airplanes: “secure your mask first before you help others.” (I very much get the language that Brother Sky writes about it being a physiological, bodily felt thing. My hesitation to identify that with “calling” is because I see and know others who are called from a force that they would describe as external, to do things that appear to me to hurt them for the sake of a greater call outside of themselves. They are not putting on their mask first. I think that the drive to sacrifice yourself for something outside yourself is admirable, but it probably requires a push from outside to stick.)
Perhaps we could ask how we are “called” to love others and ourselves in a godly manner. That, to me, is the highest “calling” of all. Each of us has differnet talents and gifts, and when we use them to comfort, edify, heal, or teach, whatever our life path may be, we are fulfilling our highest purpose. For each of us, that will be differerent but no less worthy.
I think there can be many virtuous things that call to us–but IMO the ultimate call is the voice of the Good Shepherd calling us to follow him. And when we follow him we find ourselves doing the things that Rose speaks of in her comment.
I guess I would caution the idea of few people being chosen because most are not listening. Bruce R McConkie is famous for his talk on tuning into the right frequency to hear God, that God is already transmitting something and that much like radios, our receivers must be on the same wavelength to hear what God is saying. And while I get the analogy, I just have wonder why God, if he really wants to be heard, is only broadcasting on a such narrow band that pretty much everyone looking for it, can’t seem to find it without a lot of effort—and every when they think they’ve found it, it is just full of static. When COVID hit, I ramped up my efforts to “Hear Him” ™. I dedicated a bigger portion of time to solitary quiet time to trying hear what supposedly was already there. I got nothing. No answers, no clear responses, nothing. And so I tend not think that people are listening, I tend to think that whatever it is out there “calling” people, just rarely does it.
Such good comments. Andrew S., I’ve admired your writing in this space for a long time. Your comment made me think. Because I have stayed (on my own terms, granted) with the institutional church long after I stopped trying to believe the things I was supposed to. I’m not sure how this works or even why. But part of it is the good I know that I do. And part of it is ownership. It’s my house too. Do I feel called to stay? Maybe? In a way. But it’s a very lowercase type of call. But it’s worked for twenty-ish years, and I don’t plan to stop anytime soon. It helps that I’ve always been the type of person who’ll nod and smile and then go off and do what she wants. I also own that it takes an awful lot of privilege to get away with that type of MO in LDS spaces.
Rose, I agree with you. But was I called to that love? Am I called? Or do I actively choose it every day in the ways I show up in the lives of my siblings here on earth? One of my favorite parts of LDS theology–and I don’t know how literally I believe this anymore–is that we all chose to be here, even though we knew what it would entail. How brave we were. How could I not find something to love in anybody willing to do exhibit that type of courage?
Hi Jack, I too am trying to be like Jesus. I am not sure I’ve heard Him call me, but He doesn’t have to. The life He lived and the words He left speak for themselves.
chrisdrobinson: Totally. I had a friend on her way out of the Church who told me, “If God wants me to stay, he better start telling me.” But I don’t think God/the universe/whatever works like that, at least for me. I get choices, not voices. Still, there may be other spaces in my life where I could stand to listen in better, more intentional ways. In that sense, McConkie’s advice is worthwhile for me. (My friend is happily post-Mormon, and fwiw, I think she made a good and necessary choice.)
Following Jesus is a calling for all of us because he already said, “come follow me.” But I think most of us also feel something about that. We just feel “right” about it. That is feeling called. It doesn’t have to be a voice. Or a sudden enlightenment. Lower case calling, instead of Calling. That is what I mean when I said look smaller.
My own calling was just dozens of little thinks saying that I had a talent and the empathy and it felt right. I think I have said here before that I moved 20 times in 20 years while my husband was active duty. The same thing kept accidentally turning up. Volunteer work, what I enjoyed about people, a part time job, what I didn’t like about church and the service there, the good professors when I was deciding my major, the jobs I got instead of the ones I applied for. It never really even felt like a decision, just kind of going where life took me. But feed back from others said that was my calling. It was more often the volunteer work than my job, and with all that moving my career was Air Force wife. Most of us are not Frodo, but Sam. We kind of do what we have to do and only after do we see that it helped Frodo.
Margie, thank you for the thought-provoking post!
The quote “And what you are is obedient. You are obedient to the call” immediately feels very negative to me because of my Mormon background. Don’t get me wrong—I think the Maya Angelou quote is beautiful, but I have to consciously tear my Mormon lenses away to see that beauty. You identified the negative feelings that “obedience” carries from your Mormon experience, and I definitely share that with you. However, the word “calling” is also quite loaded for me.
I think for most people, including most other Christian denominations—and certainly what Angelou is referring to—a calling is an “inside out” process. You feel it inside you first and then act on it. A couple in a Protestant congregation feels a call to serve a mission. A young person feels a call to become a pastor. They may need approval from some religious body, but the call is first felt deeply within the person.
In Mormonism, callings are generally “outside in.” A Church leader tells you what God has told him you are supposed to do, and you are expected to accept without question. Bishops, relief society presidents, nursery leaders—all are told by a Church leader that God is calling them, even though in the vast majority (if not 100%) of cases, the leader hasn’t received any specific divine guidance. All young men are called to be missionaries, yet many of them certainly don’t feel that call within themselves. (Young women and seniors are a bit of an exception—they’re allowed to decide to serve missions on their own, so there is at least some room for an inner calling there, though social pressure to serve is certainly real.) Members are also pressured to act on the “call” to do member missionary work, temple work, genealogy work, etc., even when they feel no such calling within themselves.
So when I read “You are obedient to the call,” my Mormon lens immediately recoils—because in Mormonspeak, that translates roughly to: “A Church leader dishonestly told you God wanted you to perform some service you had no desire to do, and you reluctantly agreed.” But when I manage to take my Mormon glasses off, I think what Angelou is really saying is something like: “You chose to act on something you felt strongly inside of you—something deeply important or meaningful—even though it wasn’t practical or easy.” That is certainly very different from the Mormon understanding of “You are obedient to the call”!
What kinds of things do I feel like the Church “calling” me to do right now:
1. Temple, temple, temple, temple, temple. (My temple experiences are almost always negative.)
2. Follow the prophet. (Following my inner sense of what is right is much better–and often not aligned at all with what Church leaders are saying.)
3. Serve a senior mission. (I don’t want to proselyte. I really don’t think I’ll find meaning in administrative or office jobs.)
4. Defend the Church against “musket fire”. (I despise the Church’s stance on LGBTQ (and a number of other) issues–I continue to fire my musket at Church leaders instead of in defense of the Church on these things).
5. Serve in my ward EQ presidency. (I don’t feel called to this, but I also don’t mind it too much, either. That said, many of the things I’m asked to do in this capacity seem like a waste of time.)
Here are some things I feel called to do right now:
1. Befriend the people on the “fringes” of my ward–the people that are showing up, but aren’t in the “in group”. (There are a lot of really interesting and good people here.)
2. Share the true history of the Church and provide alternative perspectives on issues (I’ve actually successfully managed to do this a bit while teaching EQ lessons on the history of race in the Church, why people are actually leaving the Church, drawing a clear distinction between Church leaders and God, fallibility of Church leaders, etc. So far, I’ve gotten away with this.)
3. Direct musket fire back at Church leaders where I feel they are wrong (LGBTQ, women, etc. I’m doing this as an insider, so there’s only so much I can do without losing my insider status, but I’m trying.)
4. Think/meditate/pray and become ever more comfortable with my mortality and at how much I don’t know.
5. Travel the world (instead of serve a senior mission).
6. Write (I’m probably the only audience, but I’m feeling called to write some things)
7. Spend more time with my close family and friends. (I’m really feeling called to do this right now, but I’m not the type of person to be the one to reach out, so I’m having to work hard against my nature to be the organizer.)
mountainclimber479: Your own list of things that you feel called to do right now looks so much like the list of things I’m actively choosing it’s kind of amazing. Like you, I’m trying to help from the inside, and there are real limits there. And like you, travel is a big priority/value. It’s the best education I’ve ever gotten. Sitting in and with uncertainty is a huge value and priority for me too. And also, your list of what we are told we are called to from the Institutional Church? Yep. That felt very, very familiar too.
Thanks for flagging the word call/calling. The word absolutely carries those negative connotations for me too. The majority of my extended family is never-LDS, and many of them used the inside-out version of calling, so when I hear the word, especially outside a Mormon space, my first stop isn’t always the LDS connotations. But I have them. You raise such an important point. Maybe part of the reason I can’t hear the (inside-out) call is because I was taught early to believe that calls were outside-in. Sure, I was also taught to try to hear the promptings of the Holy Ghost and haven’t had great luck there either. So maybe I’m just hopeless all-around. 😉
Anna, I think the calling vs Calling distinction is helpful. I have never been Called, but I am called to many, many things. I am using the word “choice” to describe my relationship to those things, but maybe it’s just semantic. I think we probably mean the same thing and may even experience it the same way. Except that I’ve got to say, I often don’t feel great about my choices/calls. I doubt them. I constantly see the value of going another way. I had a case-in-point yesterday afternoon into this morning with some choices I had to make at work, where real values and priorities conflicted. I made the best choice I could, but it turned out to be–arguably–the wrong one. That happens to me a lot. Who is to say, ultimately, really, if I’ve chosen the right things?
Margie, I just have to say how much I love that you are making this more of a discussion than most of our online interaction even at W&T. I learn so much from other people.
I automatically took the inside out meaning of calling for this discussion, because so many of my church assignments were so obviously not inspired. I made a passible primary president and a horrible RS president because I am most certainly not a leader. The only reason I was even passible as primary president was because it was a married student ward, and really it was more of a junior primary. I hated being RS president. I think that one was God telling me to run like the hounds of hades were after me, but I stayed in the church because I needed some stability among all the moving. I did learn to say no and next time I was asked to be in a presidency, I flat out said no. I never did feel like a church “calling” was any kind of calling, just assignments.
Saying church assignments are callings is taking the name of the lord in vain.
chrisdrobison,
I think the story of the Savior’s appearance to the Nephites has some interesting things to say vis-a-vis the stillness of the voice that calls us. When the people are gathered at the temple in Bountiful there comes a moment when all of them hear a very mild voice speaking to them. But they can’t understand what it’s saying–and so the voice comes again a second time and they are still unable to understand it. It’s only after it speaks a third time that they finally understand. That said, what’s so interesting about this little episode is that even though the voice is described as being perfectly mild it causes everyone’s entire frame to quake who hears it.
And so let’s imagine that for the purpose of getting the message across to the people a little more expeditiously the Lord turns up the volume a notch or two. What would have been the net result? I’m not sure, but I could imagine a scenario where instead of their bodies quaking at the sound of his voice they might’ve flown apart at the increased volume. And in saying that, I’m speaking analogically about our personal experience with the voice of the Lord. If we were to receive too much all at once it may not cause us to fly to pieces physically–but it might damage us in other ways. There are places in the scriptures that speak of caution vis-a-vis the portion of the word of God that is to be shared “lest they should perish.”
And so, having to put forth some effort to hear the call is (IMO) typically a good thing because it prepares us to receive the word at a degree of volume that is appropriate to the degree of our preparation. And the vast majority of the time (IMO) that means that we will have to learn to discern a very quiet voice–because the Lord will not speak to us in a way that coerces us to act beyond our preparations. Even so, if we are persistent he will hear us and speak to us–though perhaps we may have to suffer through a period of silence while he graciously prepares us to receive an appropriate portion of his word.
Let’s say you know without a doubt that you are called to teach teenage students. And you choose to become a musician, or a stock analyst, or a carpenter or anything else, and you find success. Have you denied your calling?
This is a beautiful post and conversation. Thank you.
“Many are called, but few are chosen” does not specify an agent. So it could be:
-Many are called by God
-Many are called by their own desires
-Many are called by their friends
-Many are called by their circumstances
-Many are called by the injustices
-Many are called by the spirits of their ancestors
-Many are called by their past selves and experiences
-Many are called by their future selves and descendants
Further, both clauses could also indicate a present perfect verb. In many languages ‘I am chosen’ is functionally equivalent to ‘I have chosen’.
I have chosen -> I am solid in my choices -> I am taking the actions NOW to rise to the many callings that beckon me. I can only act now to create the present that is wanted. Implicit in the idea that few have/are chosen is a “yet”. In time, all will be called, and all will be chosen.
Perhaps your calling is what is ‘Wanted’ (cosmic, upper-case W, often mysterious, sometimes simple and clear). Choosing reflects what is ‘wanted’ (mundane, lower-case w, daily, planting and tending, being present, the actions you’re taking now). Being chosen is when you find the nexus between what is ‘Wanted’ and what is ’wanted’.
Spending time with close family and friends, mountainclimber479, is often such a nexus. Any one-to-one interaction, even with a stranger or an enemy, is often such a nexus. A silent and “solitary” interaction, with God or with yourself, is often such a nexus. God and eternity live in those interactions.
I grew up on the LDS version of “calling” including whispered conversations about aspiring to a position and the trappings of conferred authority. I have shucked that part of my cultural education.
I was well into my thirties before I came to a partial understanding of the practice of discernment. In my experience, when a calling comes from an authority figure, saying yes is obedience. But when a calling comes by way of a process of discernment, saying yes is an exercise in integrity. Once you know, to do otherwise would be to reject a piece of yourself.
On the occasion of our 25th anniversary (we are now approaching our 49th) it occurred to me that our family and our marriage was a good work and that it took every day of 25 years. No shortcuts. It has been a calling but only recognized after the fact.
On the occasion of my church calling as a bishop I knew it was the right thing for me to do for a time. I knew it was coming (by logic, not a voice or visitation) and I knew it was right. Some good got done. Some consequences were damaging (and maybe damning). None of the good or the bad detracts from my inner confidence that it was my work to do at that time and place, and that has very little if anything to do with what a stake president wrote on a form submitted to Salt Lake.
Some years later I was called to reorganize a company. That was a four-year sprint and then it was done. There was no ecclesiastical voice nor any voice from heaven. The work had nothing to do with any organized religion or even justice, human thriving, or the fate of the world. It was just my work, my assignment, my call, for a time.
Decades later, in the middle of writing a book, I woke to an overwhelming realization that the book was my calling. For that time.
Nowadays I’m working on what seems good to me and I could tell a pretty good story if asked for a report. But the fact is that right now I don’t have the fire, the sense of urgency, the feel of rightness. Good, but no fire. I’m not worried. I’ve lived a long time. Sometimes it feels like a slog. A few times I have been driven by purpose, all in, on fire. And lots of times have been about making good choices and just showing up. Life is good.
Some years ago I watched a documentary that followed several young men through their process of deciding to become Catholic priests. There was talk of “calling” and “discernment”, and I came away feeling some holy envy that my faith tradition doesn’t think of those words in that way. And why not? Our own scriptures speak of being “anxiously engaged in a good cause”, even condemning those who must be “commanded in all things”. We believe on a God who apparently wants us to go seek to good in the world without being told what to do, yet we rarely talk about things that way at church. I see no reason why we can’t keep using the word calling to refer to assignments given to us by the church organization as well as a bigger sense in which we are all seeking to make something good of our lives.
I believe in the idea of calling because I’ve seen others around me who truly seem called to certain things. I believe a calling can be temporary, as christiankimball notes in his comments. I’ve seen that in people around me as well. And yet, I can’t say I feel a particularly strong sense of calling. I find Andrew S’s comments about how staying in the church after a change in belief can be a calling resonant. That very much describes me. Maybe that’s my calling. I do feel like supporting others experiencing faith crisis has at times felt like more of a ministry than anything my local ward has assigned me to.
Margie, What a great article that has generated some real sharing of experiences.
My experiences within the church regarding “callings” have been a mixed bag. I went on a mission because my dear mother taught me to pray at a young age, “help me go on a mission.” But before submitting my paperwork, both of my parents routinely told me and encouraged me to see the other options that were out there besides a mission. I wanted to go.
My mission was wonderful at times and a slog at others, I was happy to come home and get on with my life. I’ve mentioned on another thread that my first mission president went off the rails with trying to convert sister missionaries to polygamy with him. It was nuts. But there was a great learning experience there in my young mind, heart and spirit. My companion and I knew that a bunch of the “extra rules” and other bs, was just that, bs, and quit utilizing them or enforcing them on the missionaries in our zone. Watching how the very senior GAs cleaned the mess up was very enlightening as well. All of this brought me to an understanding as a young 20 year old, that the Gospel of Jesus Christ is always perfect and true, but the church is not, because it is run by humans with human decisions and error. I have since that time, never born testimony that “the church is true” but that Gospel of Jesus Christ is true. “Ya gotta keep em separated.”
Toward the end of my mission, I knew that I wanted to become a pilot in the USAF. I knew that it was what my life direction should be. Perhaps called.
I’ve had many positions in the church that were realistically “assignments” and not truly “called.” Even though the individual doing so expressed it as a “call.”
Often, I have done positions out of a sense of enjoyment with dear friends, like scouting with our boys and our friends families and those positions have been fulfilling, not called, but enjoyed.
Other times I was asked to be a bishopric counselor or on the high council, I knew these were coming because my dearest friend was the one in the grinding positions, and he needed me to help him and to be someone that he could complain to or shed tears with, without restraint. We had some incredible “female dog” sessions when we were hanging out, just the two of us, outside of church. He needed that, those positions are a grind for someone who doesn’t aspire to them, but performs them to help others on their journey and discipleship. I knew he needed me there, I knew he was supposed to be there, and I knew I was supposed to be there to support him. Called in those cases? I believe so.
I’ve since been Called to be a bishop. Yep, Called. I knew it was coming. Based on circumstances and personal spiritual prodding. Two items of particular note are the reasons why I needed to be in the position, and it included particular individuals. But there was a third and fourth reason as well. One was to place significantly more emphasis on partaking of the sacrament and it’s significance every Sunday. We have done things to help the ward be considerably more “prepared” to partake and I think it has been helpful to the congregation over the past 4+ years. The last item was to continually let ward members know that we are all volunteers. Callings/assignments/positions are always presented to ward members as an option. We are well aware that when we need to fill a position, we try to find the best person for the job, or the person that is wanting to do something else. Members are always asked to think about it, if they need to, and we will re-engage in a week or two. This gives them the ability to determine if this is what they want to do, or even if it is something they feel Called to do. If they decline, and many have, we ask them if there is something they want to do, and try to do that for them. So we are doing our best for members to feel inwardly that they are needed.
So, my experiences over the years have taught me that it is ok to turn down a request. I would particularly be on guard to a person in a leadership position that treats their position as their “all in” hobby. You know the kind, they live for the meetings and structure and all of that garbage. I personally would not allow myself to be sucked into that kind of situation, because quite frankly, I want to live my own life how I want to live it, on my schedule, and others should be given the latitude to do the same.
Senior mission? Nope, not for us. Like Anna, my dear wife and I have spent many years, 24, in the military and had way too much time away from family and want to spend as much time as possible with those we love and hold dear. Anna understands that very well. Additionally, I personally spent another 20 years as an airline pilot and missed many holidays, anniversaries, birthdays etc, and now that I am FINALLY retired, I will not miss another family event for any reason.
God, Family, friends, then church is the balance at this time.
So, I have felt “Called” a few times, but have done most things out of a sense of duty to support those that I am closest. Even this position as bishop is mostly, outside of my 4 items, done out of a sense of duty to those I care about and they currently are all of our congregation.
PS: ChristianKimball, I am enjoying your book!
So many, many great comments! Thank you all so much. Anna, your kindness and generosity are a model for me. And yes, sometimes I think “taking the Lord’s name in vain” doesn’t mean what we think it means, to paraphrase a favorite film.
Jack, you’ve touched on a personal favorite moment in scripture. I’ve thought long and hard about why the Lord would choose to speak–twice–in language that He knew was unintelligible to people. Generally, speaking to someone in language they don’t understand when you’re perfectly capable of doing otherwise is bad form. To me, this is an even more interesting question than why it was the people understood the third time. I have thoughts but no certainties.
bhbardo, what a beautiful comment! I experience a profound sense of connection, love, and debt to the ancestors. I haven’t thought of this before as being called by them, but maybe I will now. I feel that same pull toward the people who are to come, whether related to me by blood or not. Thank you for giving me such an eloquent moment to pause and reflect on how those calls shape my life and my choices.
Chris, we don’t know each other IRL, but your book gave me language for an experience I’ve been inside of for two-plus decades of my life. And language, for me, means a measure of legitimacy. And that is priceless. Thank you. And thank you for your generous comment. My husband and I are coming up on our own twenty-fifth in June. A I think it was a prophet of our Church, one I believe you knew well, who once opined–correctly, I think–that many good people could make a go of a successful marriage together, and that we should be skeptical of narratives about “the one.” It’s solid advice. But in the case of the man I married, there was nobody else for me. Maybe that is a type of a Call. And I’d never thought about it that way before, because it’s neither selfless or noble–it’s all upside for me.
Quentin, one branch of my family is very, very Catholic; a great uncle was a priest, and from everything I know, a good one. A Jesuit, if I’m remembering correctly. When my brother was out on his mission, and writing letters home with a deeply spiritual dimension, my Catholic grandparents asked my parents with real excitement, real pride, “Do you think he may have a calling?” I remember then feeling the poverty of my own tradition in comparison with theirs as my parents explained how different it was for us. Holy envy, indeed.
17Rider, Congratulations on your retirement! I love my work, and I believe I do a lot of good in the roles I’ve held, but now that I’m firmly over the halfway point in my career, I won’t deny that retirement has its ever-growing charm. Was I C/called to my profession as you were to yours? I guess it depends on which of the definitions we’ve all been circling that I use. I know I have done a lot of good in my professional work. Not always. I’ve made mistakes too, but the net impact has been good. And perhaps that’s calling enough. 🙂
I spent my youth trying very hard to be the person I thought my parents wanted me to be. I was constantly on alert, paying close attention to anything they said that they thought was admirable (good grades, going on a mission, being obedient, etc.) and anything they didn’t like (anything that might mar the facade of being the ideal family).
I distinctly remember a conversation with my older sister just before leaving on my mission. She said that I had always wanted to go on a mission. In my head I just thought, “Have I?” It was always just something that I knew I would have to do, another threshold to cross. And I did my best. I worked hard. I was an obedient missionary.
But as I started going to University and trying to figure out what I wanted to be, I realized I had no idea what I wanted. I only knew what others wanted me to be and, unfortunately, they hadn’t included any specifics, just a general “go to college, get a job, get married and have kids”. It is extremely hard to pick a direction when they all look roughly the same. And the advice to do what you enjoy doing or are good at wasn’t particularly helpful either as I was decently good at just about everything (not sports, but I didn’t try, so who knows?) and generally enjoyed it all.
So my “call,” such as it is, is to figure out what I want and love and would like to do. And that’s a big challenge for me. Luckily I managed to stumble into a career (I’m a processing archivist for a university library) that I truly love and enjoy doing. So that’s a decent start.
Thank you for the thoughtful and thought-provoking post.
Loving this thread. Sometimes it makes me very happy to have found this group of imaginary friends.
Hi AdamL, your comment has weighed on me since I read it yesterday because I know so many LDS young people, especially those in their 30s, who feel exactly this. They’ve built the life they were told to want and now aren’t sure if it is the life they -actually- wanted. That is a lot. I’m glad you’re enjoying your career, though.
vajra2, I’m glad! I have really enjoyed this conversation too.