Not long ago I worked with college students on discerning vocation, and they struggled with the same thing I continue to face too: In living out our callings, there is no “arrival,” no destination, no end to the journey in this lifetime. Just when we think we’ve “made it,” something happens in our life or our family or the world to call us further on.
This is true even if you’ve just been inaugurated as President of the United States. Surely, it could be argued, this we could call an arrival. After all, it’s something you and thousands of people have been working on for a very, very long time, and you’ve won an arduous contest. It is a tremendous achievement.
Vocation, however, is not about winning or about titles. It’s not even about achievements. Vocation is about serving. It’s about bringing the best of your gifts to the task at hand, on behalf of the neighbor God has given you to serve in love. (When you’re the President of the United States, well, that’s a whole lot of neighbors.)
For any of us, ongoing vocation discernment means asking, in each situation and opportunity, questions such as,
- What’s my role here?
- In what way, today, can I best love this person, this group, this nation?
- How do I manage my time, energy, and resources, and those of others?
- What do I hold onto, and what do I let go?
- Whose help do I need? Who needs mine?
When I hear Obama talk, his carefully chosen words give me hope that he understands this. In his inaugural address today, some of the first words he used were “humble,” “grateful,” “mindful.” Those are excellent vocation words. They make me hope that he will be not only a leader, but truly a public servant, discerning exactly how best to serve each day. (What would be the alternative? Letting public opinion decide, for example. Letting “the way we’ve always done it” decide. Letting “putting out the fires” of smaller crises suck up all resources for vision, planning, hope, and leadership.)
When any of us use our gifts to serve, there are a few things that help bring out our best rather than our worst, and things that make vocation a joy rather than a burden. This is what I hope for President Obama, and what I would say to him as the inaugural hoopla begins to fade, and as he continues to discern his vocation daily–the ways he can best serve in this time and place.
1. As the sense of “arrival” fades, it helps to forgo the search for more and better destinations and focus on the tasks at hand. As the Zen saying (and its many variations) goes, “After enlightenment, the laundry.” Soon, I hope, people will forget that you are the first African-American president and simply view you as “the President.” (That happens to all of us after a while; now that I’ve been in my congregation for two years, the shine has definitely worn off.) Regardless of whether you are new and “shiny,” each day you are the one who has the privilege of doing this work. Some days, I’m sure the work will be enlightening. Some days, even for the President, I suspect, it will be laundry.
2. Don’t get carried away with your own importance. The world has a Savior, and it is not you. Don’t let your fans, the media, or your shadow side tell you otherwise. However, I suspect this is not news to you, and I suspect it is a relief, not a disappointment. (As someone in a much less public “helping profession,” I know from experience that the latter can be a temptation.)
3. Of course, you are important, and not just because you’re the President. Each of us has an important part to play in the unfolding story of creation and the drama of people trying to live and work together (sometimes brilliantly and often messily, to say the least). God can and does work through each of us in ways large and small. This is awe-inspiring. But there is grace and a reality-check here, too: just as often as God works through us (and maybe even more often), God works in spite of us.
4. Keep discerning how God is calling you to serve each day–with the help of people you trust, with careful attention to the movements of the Spirit within you and in the world, and with the counsel of people who disagree with you. (Now there’s a great idea; I hope you manage that last one better than I do.) Each day, keep an eye out for the Holy Spirit’s work, through you and in spite of you. If you try to follow that movement, I pray it will help you lead the rest of us, too, in a direction that’s good for this nation and the world.
If you can do all this, it won’t matter much if people are applauding or booing you, building you a pedestal or tearing it down.
Then again, if you can’t do all this, well, you’re like the rest of us as we journey together, trying to live out our various vocations as best we can according to these and other principles, never arriving but always striving. So, welcome to the human race. And for our part–we’ll try to remember that you are neither Savior nor devil, but another member of the human race, trying to serve as you are called.
