Vocation

Mitch Hedberg had a funny joke that I like to retell often because it's easy to remember: "I'm sick of following my dreams.  I'm just going to ask where they're going, and hook up with 'em later."  It's funny for a couple of reasons: it's clever in a silly way, and many of us can relate.

Following our dreams sounds like a perfect plan when we are children and the realities of adult living haven't hit us yet.  Too often, dreams are smashed into smitherines with no hope of repair.  We get tired of following our dreams because at some point they become impossible (at age thirty, probably not going to become an astronaut with an English degree) or miserably implausible and depressing if we try holding on to them.  This isn't to say, of course, that accomplishing one's dreams is always impossible.  There are plenty of people who work hard with singular focus toward a life goal and wake up one day with a heart full of success.  That reality happens, too.  The fact that the latter reality happens less often means, though, that ultimately there's a fine line between promising our children the fulfillment of their dreams if they work hard enough and teaching them from the beginning that life stinks.  A lot has to do with privilege, too, whether we like it or not--whether we're talking race, class, or sex privilege: a wealthy white boy will be, on average, far more likely to follow his dreams and also hook up with 'em later.

What we do with the fine line is a tough question for parents.  We want our kids to dream big and become something great and be happy.  We'd rather not teach them about the weighty obligations and unfairness of life at age eight or ten.  My wife watches a lot of Gilmore Girls.  Near the end of the original airing of the show, the secondary main character of the show, Rory, a young woman who has had so much promise throughout the running of the show, has a choice to make: take a solid, respected journalism position out of college or postpone her working career to seek a prestigious fellowship that could land her an even better position, the position of her dreams, in the future.  Her mother, Lorelai, actually encourages Rory to take the job because Lorelai has had to fight for what she wants her whole life and understands life's practical side; Rory's boyfriend, Logan (a rich, white male by the way), encourages Rory to go after her dreams.  Rory listens to her boyfriend, seeks the fellowship, doesn't get it, her previous potential employer has long moved on, and after seven seasons of hope and promise that Rory would rise through all the struggles her mother endured for her and stand atop the world, everything collapses.  Indeed, when the new, eighth season ran on Netflix, Rory was still floundering ten years later--not sure what to do with her life while still dating Logan despite his living in a different country engaged to another woman.  "What happened to the Rory with promise and a moral center?" is just about the only question that ran through my head watching part of the eighth season with my wife.  The answer, I think, lies back with her decision to chase her dreams rather than make a practical decision.

Again, not everyone's life turns out that way when following and chasing one's dreams.  Enough do, though, to wonder how we are supposed to navigate life or advise those who are starting out.  I'm going to be a lot like Rory here and admit that, after three paragraphs of build-up, I don't have an answer.  In fact, I'm barely even going to address the question.  Take that, suckas!  But seriously, I do want to point out that there's a spiritual dimension to the question of whether we should follow our dreams or not--a question that we could rephrase more generally, "What in the world am I supposed to do with my life?"  Usually we answer that question with two alternatives: earning as much money as I can right now, or some version of pragmatism, on the one hand; or working towards happiness or life success, or some version of idealism, on the other hand.  What I want to suggest is that there's a third alternative that, maybe, may be a middle way between the other two: vocation.

Vocation is a spiritual, religious concept prominent in many traditions of Christianity and other faiths, like Hinduism, that basically boils down to what God has made you for or calls you to do.  I prefer the latter, what God calls us to, because I am heavy on free-will and spiritual liberty.  As such, I believe that it's entirely possible that God 'makes us' with a purpose in mind but then we take a life path that swerves us well off course and then God has to adjust and call us to some other purpose.  Perhaps God has to adjust multiple times until we hear the call and move in that direction.  Either way, part of the concept of vocation is that God enables and empowers us to fulfill our purpose or our call.  In other words, God gives us the spiritual gifts to do what we are called to.

My own life is a good example of the power of the concept and why I think it's important we reclaim the importance of vocation in our "Navigate Life Tool Bag."  When I first went off to college I thought for sure that I would be a math teacher.  I was and am good at math and I like teaching.  I had even done some teaching interns at high school with that plan in mind.  My thinking basically was, "What am I best at?  Math.  What can I do in life with math?  Teach."  I didn't know of any other mathematical career choices other than teaching, but more importantly I didn't know of any other questions to ask.  It's critical to note that I didn't know of other questions to ask because when I got to college, within a year I realized that no matter how good at math I may be, I hated it.  Recently as a private tutor I've regained some appreciation for mathematics but at that point I knew I did not want to spend the rest of my life working with math.  So I finally asked another question, "What do I enjoy?"  To my parents' chagrin, the answer was reading.  I loved reading and I had grown to love writing, too.  When I told my parents I was switching majors their reaction gave voice to my own fears, "What are you ever going to do with an English degree?  Teach?  You know how many English teachers are out of a job because of a shortage in demand?"  I had no idea what I would do but I had started to follow my dreams by asking what my dreams were, what I'd like to do with my life, what I would enjoy and make me happy in life.

A couple of years later I found myself asking another question.  Now, I know some people don't believe in this type of thing, but I truly believe that I heard God's speaking to me at a church worship one Sunday that I should be a pastor.  Regardless of whether or not you believe in that sort of thing, hear me out: I believed in what happened, but I didn't believe it could be really and honestly true.  Why?  Because I hated and was no good at public speaking, I was incredibly shy and introverted (and yes, please understand shyness and introversion are two different things.  You can be an outgoing introvert), and I have a terrifying reaction to being around needles and other hospital situations in which I faint and seizure for minutes.  All of that were serious roadblocks to becoming a pastor because, obviously, a pastor needs to preach, needs to meet and engage a whole community of people, in and around the church, and needs to visit people in hospitals.  How in the living hell could I become a pastor?  So I started asking a third set of questions, the questions of vocation, namely, "What does God want me to do?  What am I spiritually gifted for?" but the answers were not pleasant.

But then amazing things started happening to and with me.  The more I started asking the questions of vocation and wondering why I should bother because the answer to the first question, "What does God want me to do?" conflicted with the answer to the second question, "What am I spiritually gifted for?", the more God showed some almighty power.  And, I suppose somewhat ironically, it happened because of a political science class.

That political science class had a student with social anxiety and perhaps other forms of mental illness.  Other students mocked him.  I, in seeing how he was mocked, decided I needed to learn how to overcome my own shyness and talk to him, show him some support and care.  So I did, and all of a sudden, and I mean all of a sudden--well, okay, after a few months--I was no longer shy.  Still an introvert, wanting to spend most of my time alone, but no longer shy.  By the time I got to seminary, for instance, I was comfortable asking girls out left and right.  It wasn't exactly healthy, but I wasn't shy.  And then, not long after I started mustering the courage to speak to that one student and be a friend, the fear of public speaking dissipated, too.  The professor of the class required that each student give a five-minute presentation on some assigned article.  I had completed my requirement early in the semester to get it over and done with.  I hated it and got a bad grade.  But sometime after the start of my invasion of the lands of shyness, and our professor informed us that the class was small enough that some students would have to sign up twice, and if a student volunteered he or she would get extra credit, I suddenly, and I mean suddenly (this time I really mean it), felt entirely comfortable doing public speaking.  I don't know why.  Perhaps my professor's genuine interest in his students played a part (shout out to Dr. William Grover), but I think God's Spirit had more to do with it.  I volunteered for two more articles and I enjoyed every moment of those two additional presentations.  It was as if God said to me, "If you even consider going down the path I have in mind for you, I'll make sure you have the gifts for it."  I'm not the greatest pastor on earth, but I am a pastor who has overcome my general shyness and loves preaching.

What about visiting people at the hospital, you ask?  Well, God did something else amazing that didn't seem so amazing at the time.  God gave me a slow-moving anxiety attack that led to a diagnosis of generalized anxiety disorder.  Fun, right?  Seven years later I have finally realized that, actually, that time was special and blessed and, and the realization led to my feeling the need to write this article/post.  You see, that diagnosis brought me to a psychiatrist who prescribed me medication to deal with my anxiety.  Eventually I learned how to handle my anxiety without medication but still needed help with certain events, like needles or hospital situations, or flying in an airplane.  I still had little hope for becoming a pastor because I did not want medication to be a constant part of my life.  Indeed, my inability to handle my anxiety in certain events was one-half the reason I stopped following the path to becoming a pastor while at seminary.  Perhaps my deciding not to become a pastor was a God-send, too, because it wasn't until the year after I graduated that I started dating my now-wife.  At the time she worked for a company that produces and sells supplements.  One of those supplements is fittingly called "Serenity Now" and provides instant and long-lasting calm.  With her guidance and support, I now had the final piece of the puzzle: take some calm pills, that are healthy supplements rather than medication, and then just be honest with the people I'm visiting in the hospital.  Strangely, if my wife weren't such a staunch supporter of my health--and of me generally, of course--I'm not sure I ever would have thought to say, "Okay, I have to look away now so that I don't see the needle, because I'm here for you and I don't want to become a distraction seizuring on the floor."  I don't believe that God sends us people to marry and all that, but I'm rethinking it, because I needed my wife to feel comfortable becoming a pastor.  God didn't give me the gift of visitation, but God did remove the spiritual obstacle that had been in my way.

Now here I am as a pastor.  I don't earn a whole lot of money doing it and I'm certainly not successful in the way I could have wished, and, even, I'm not doing what I thought I wanted to do.  I thought I wanted to be a writer and a writer only.  That was my dream.  But honestly, I believe that I am doing what I am called to do and what I am gifted for.  For that reason, every day I feel fulfilled, despite constant fears that I am not what my churches need, that I'm committing rookie errors all over the place, or generally not doing enough.  Still I feel fulfilled. 

Vocation is critical here because, as I've said, I have not chosen the path of practicality or chasing my dream.  Instead I asked the questions of vocation, "What does God want me to do?  What am I gifted for?"  I followed those questions to the end and found that, strangely, I was and am gifted in ways I didn't know beforehand.  By asking the questions of vocation doors were opened that I hadn't even been aware of previously.  By asking the questions of vocation I came to a place where my happiness is connected more to fulfillment and contentment than getting what I want, be it financial success or accomplishing my dream or both.  Success, then, is redefined as answering the questions of vocation. 

Answering the questions of vocation can be hard.  What we are gifted for is not the same, I think, as what we are good at.  I am good at math but I'm not gifted in math.  I am gifted as a preacher but I may not be good at it.  I don't know that I can explain the difference well so I won't try, but in our souls I think we all probably know the difference.  Perhaps a gift is a some place between talent and passion.

Once we answer the questions of vocation, moving in that direction can be fairly easy.  For instance, if you're gifted in hospitality, well, there's a whole range of occupations from which you can choose.  If you've discovered that's your gift, then you can be fulfilled in life by either chasing your dreams, whatever they are, and inviting neighbors into your house for a weekly meal and chat, or by taking a more pragmatic route and taking the first available housekeeping job.  When we are talking about vocation, it doesn't necessarily matter what we do, it matters that we are doing it because we are gifted and/or called.

If we believe in God, then vocation adds hope to our lives, too.  As in my life story, if we believe in God and go in the direction that God has called us to, then there always remains the hope that God will provide the gifts necessary.  Of course, it must be God's path and not our own, otherwise we won't be gifted in the ways necessary.  I find great hope in this because it means we need to start walking before the bridge has been built and yet God won't let us fall.  That's cool, as the young people say.

Reclaiming vocation as the deciding factor in our lives, then, adds hope to our lives and eliminates the false and depressing either/or between pragmatism and dream-chasing.  One can do both or neither when choosing to live by one's vocational dictates.  As long as one's vocation is the deciding factor then fulfillment is on the horizon.  Reclaiming vocation as our guiding light also, regardless of belief in God, empowers us to see what our true gifts are, of what we are capable, and that feelings of hopelessness when we don't know what to do with our lives, or misery when we know all too well that we might do what we're good at without joy, do not rule us.  Instead, we are our own rulers; who we are and what our gifts are determine our path forward.  True, vocational insight may not lead to success, financial or otherwise, but vocational insight reminds us that success is fulfilling who we are. 

All this may sound like an unsuccessful person trying to justify his life.  But I am reminded every time I enter a hospital to visit a parishioner that vocation is real and, if understood correctly, can truly save our lives from wandering, depression, and hopelessness.  Maybe I'm not doing a good job of explaining what vocation is or why it's important.  I don't care.  Writing may be part of my vocation, but that means only that it fulfills who I am and what my gifts are, not that I'm good at it.

So who are we?  What are our gifts (not just what we're good at)?  How is God calling us?