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3 Biblical Qualities of the Call of God


Stained glass was designed by Lyn Durham, Pickel Studio, and is displayed at the Episcopal Church of the Nativity in Port Saint Lucie.

“Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening”
by Robert Frost

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

This poem always makes me think of the call of God. That may not sound like what you would expect, but bear with me. “And miles to go before I sleep” is the surprise at the end of the poem. 

Called by Surprise

Very often, God’s call also comes as a surprise. It is something new, and the horse shakes his head: “This cannot be.” 

Sometimes, when God calls you out of what has been normal into something new, your friends or family shake their heads and say, “This cannot be!”

But this call is God’s idea. This is what we see in the Isaiah reading. Isaiah just comes in to pray. He has no idea what God is about to do. And yet God breaks through into his prayers and first, humbles him.  He is saying in a very clear way, “I am God—and you are not.”       

No wonder Isaiah said, “I am undone!” (Isa. 6:5b, NKJV). And he immediately confessed the cry of his own humanity and the people with whom he lived: “I am a man of unclean lips and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips” (Isa. 6:6). In other words, “You are the perfect and holy God, and who am I? Only a sinful human being.”

But God was not content to leave Isaiah there.  He breaks through from power to the place where Isaiah is. And to Isaiah’s surprise, the word comes that brings forgiveness and calling. These two are inextricably tied together, because it is my personal need for forgiveness and the needs of the people I serve for forgiveness that keeps me in that place of knowing, that place of humility, that place of “I need God, and if God does not come, I am undone.”

Called in Humility 

The absence of humility always indicates a loss of vision of one’s own sin and humanity. At the heart of what it means to be a follower of Jesus is that I need him more desperately than anything or anyone else in my life.  And that desperation never changes. You never outgrow it. It is not a sign of maturity to no longer have it; it’s actually a sign of hardness of heart. 

So to lead others well always requires that posture of humility. As Peter writes in his letter, “Clothe yourself with humility” (1 Pet. 5:5b, NRSV). It reminds us how desperately we need him. 

So we are always called to walk in humility. Because forgiveness is always a gift we do not deserve, but one that God freely gives.

There will be no time when he will look at you and say, “No, I am not going to touch your lips today.”  It is this love that always offers forgiveness and mercy. We never deserve it, and he is always free to give it. And it is that security that opens the door for the other gift needed for ministry, and that is power. Power that is the gift of God. 

Called With Power

I need to know that both I am forgiven and that God touches my lips with his power. Both are needed. If I have power but no humility, I am arrogant, I am demanding, I want to be the center of attention. I want everybody to do everything my way, and if you disagree with me, then what’s wrong with you?  

You see, that is arrogance. That is power without humility. And we live in an age where people admire power deeply. But without humility, it is very dangerous. You cannot trust someone who does not have humility. But if all you have is the humility and there is no power, you will not do anything. There will be no action. All you’ll know is that you are not worthy, and so you’ll say, “God, send somebody else.” 

You see, both are necessary. This is why Isaiah could say, “Here am I, send me” (Isa. 6:8c), because he both knew the brokenness of his own humanity and the strength of God’s forgiving power.

Both humility and power represent the gifts we offer to other people. That combination actually creates a deep place of security for those who are called, knowing God loves them and will give them what they need to serve him, even in the midst of impossible situations. 

Because the truth is, all ministry is impossible. We desperately need God to do both the small things and the big things. And that is the surprise other people see, that unlike the leaders of this world, who operate only in power, the people of God rise up and openly confess their need for him. And he pours his life through them in displays of great power. 

May the called of God rejoice in his surprise and rise up to serve him in both humility and power.

How have you experienced the call of God? Share this blog and your response on Twitter. Please include my username, @revgregbrewer. 

(This post is an adaption of Bishop Brewer’s sermon on Sept. 3, 2017, at Christ the King Episcopal Church, Orlando.)

Unless otherwise noted, Scripture quotations are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

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