Vocation, Parker Palmer, and Moving Along in Life
Parker Palmer, in his little book on vocation, asks this question of those looking for their life's work: What is it that you can't not do?
I may be a religion major soon(ish) to graduate, I may have taken all 528 of Belmont's vocation-related courses (seriously, almost), and I may be required to attend 2 seminars each year on ministry as vocation, but nothing I've heard has stuck with me like that little question.
Not that I ever had an answer for it. From the very beginning of college, when I took Vocation and the Christian Life with Dr. Skeen, I've been asking myself, "Where does my deep gladness and the world's deep hunger meet?" echoing Buechner's Wishful Thinking. I am only 18...19...20, I thought. I don't know the answer to that yet.
We are silly creatures.
This week I reconnected with two people doing the mission work I do in Russia, except cooler and better. To make a long story short, I want their lives. And I want to get to the end of my life, look back, and see the things they'll see. I believe in it, I lose track of time in it, I'm a better version of myself in it.
And I'm already kinda doing it.
What is it that you can't not do? Well, for starters, it could be something you're already doing. It could be something you believe in, lose track of time in, are a better version of yourself in. For me, it's Russia. I could talk for days about my vision for the future of my ministry there, or tell you about the past six years and the trips I've taken and the people I've met. I could talk for days about what I mean when I say It's Russia. But basically, the point is I can't not do this stuff. And all along, all through my education, all through my confusion about vocation, I've been doing it. Living in Karachaevsk. Learning to speak Russian. It's been like breathing, something I do without thinking, something I take in as part of my identity.
So I don't pretend to know what my life's work is going to be. I can only very vaguely predict where I'll be in 10 or 20 years (although it's my new jam to try...life goal setting is LEGIT). But I do know right now, the stuff I can't not do includes going to Russia and honoring the people I meet there. It includes telling little baby Russian faces about Jesus sometimes, if they're ready to hear it. It includes a lot of listening and appreciating differences. It also includes being a runner. An athlete. A competitor. A yogi. Searching for adventure and finding my edges. In includes studying theology, Greek, and Hebrew. It's being a force of cohesion in the world. Bridging the gap between my two homes, Karachaevsk and Nashville.
These are the things I do because I have to, and because I see the face of God most clearly when I do. And that is the best kind of driving force in our lives. Have you ever noticed the almost universal driving force in life, moving us to new places and new seasons? We are all afraid of change, and yet we all look for it, because something pushes us along into our adulthood, into our middle and old age. Maybe that force for some people is the pursuit of comfort, or love, or money. Or maybe like Viktor Frankl said, it's the pursuit of meaning. That's probably it, but maybe it's also the vision of the face of God. We run and skip and crawl towards it, because it's the best and sweetest life we know.
I'm a homebody at heart, I like my Nashville home, and my whole life is wrapped around the axis of this place. I'm rooted here. I've sprouted and grown from this Tennessee clay. But there's a life sweeter than my roots; there's a driving force of life, and it's pushing me on to Divinity School and on to Russia. I think, for now, those are the things I can't imagine not doing. And so I shall, although they're vague. Hopefully people eventually stop asking what I'm doing after graduation.
I may be a religion major soon(ish) to graduate, I may have taken all 528 of Belmont's vocation-related courses (seriously, almost), and I may be required to attend 2 seminars each year on ministry as vocation, but nothing I've heard has stuck with me like that little question.
Not that I ever had an answer for it. From the very beginning of college, when I took Vocation and the Christian Life with Dr. Skeen, I've been asking myself, "Where does my deep gladness and the world's deep hunger meet?" echoing Buechner's Wishful Thinking. I am only 18...19...20, I thought. I don't know the answer to that yet.
We are silly creatures.
This week I reconnected with two people doing the mission work I do in Russia, except cooler and better. To make a long story short, I want their lives. And I want to get to the end of my life, look back, and see the things they'll see. I believe in it, I lose track of time in it, I'm a better version of myself in it.
And I'm already kinda doing it.
What is it that you can't not do? Well, for starters, it could be something you're already doing. It could be something you believe in, lose track of time in, are a better version of yourself in. For me, it's Russia. I could talk for days about my vision for the future of my ministry there, or tell you about the past six years and the trips I've taken and the people I've met. I could talk for days about what I mean when I say It's Russia. But basically, the point is I can't not do this stuff. And all along, all through my education, all through my confusion about vocation, I've been doing it. Living in Karachaevsk. Learning to speak Russian. It's been like breathing, something I do without thinking, something I take in as part of my identity.
So I don't pretend to know what my life's work is going to be. I can only very vaguely predict where I'll be in 10 or 20 years (although it's my new jam to try...life goal setting is LEGIT). But I do know right now, the stuff I can't not do includes going to Russia and honoring the people I meet there. It includes telling little baby Russian faces about Jesus sometimes, if they're ready to hear it. It includes a lot of listening and appreciating differences. It also includes being a runner. An athlete. A competitor. A yogi. Searching for adventure and finding my edges. In includes studying theology, Greek, and Hebrew. It's being a force of cohesion in the world. Bridging the gap between my two homes, Karachaevsk and Nashville.
These are the things I do because I have to, and because I see the face of God most clearly when I do. And that is the best kind of driving force in our lives. Have you ever noticed the almost universal driving force in life, moving us to new places and new seasons? We are all afraid of change, and yet we all look for it, because something pushes us along into our adulthood, into our middle and old age. Maybe that force for some people is the pursuit of comfort, or love, or money. Or maybe like Viktor Frankl said, it's the pursuit of meaning. That's probably it, but maybe it's also the vision of the face of God. We run and skip and crawl towards it, because it's the best and sweetest life we know.
I'm a homebody at heart, I like my Nashville home, and my whole life is wrapped around the axis of this place. I'm rooted here. I've sprouted and grown from this Tennessee clay. But there's a life sweeter than my roots; there's a driving force of life, and it's pushing me on to Divinity School and on to Russia. I think, for now, those are the things I can't imagine not doing. And so I shall, although they're vague. Hopefully people eventually stop asking what I'm doing after graduation.
I love you and your drive and your vocation and our friendship. I think you'd be great at setting life goals. You should.
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