Month: March 2021

It’s Palm Sunday, as I write. But this Australian woman just doesn’t ‘get it’ when it comes to the tremendous symbolism behind the Palm Sunday story. 

How do you even go about getting palm fronds to lay on a road to a city? Were first century Israeli palms not as tall as palm trees growing amongst gums in backyards in my neighbourhood? Can you imagine trying to access the top of this solitary palm tree (photographed on Palm Sunday), let alone cutting down enough fronds to line a street?

Something I am more familiar with is the brand new green growth of peace lilies, which have once again emerged from the ground. There is a photo below. This is an annual miracle in my somewhat neglected backyard. I am already dreaming of showy white flowers in the drab shady corner behind my unit. That dream will become a reality in a few months time. 

Yes, I know … peace lilies aren’t officially ‘lilies’. And the white flowery bits aren’t officially ‘flowers’. The actual flowers are so tiny I never even notice them on the central fleshy yellow bit. The white hoods are more like a leaf. Whatever they are, I love them. Not everything is as it seems. Peace lilies are a bit of a mystery to me, but I can live with mystery.

Were Jesus to explain the symbolism of Palm Sunday to an Australian women like me, far removed from first century Israel in terms of time and place, I wonder if he would point to the corner of my backyard instead of to palms, psalms and prophecy.

The first Palm Sunday in Israel

Our Lord entered Jerusalem on a young donkey. The road was strewn with cloaks and palm leaves. People praised God and joyfully recited a Jewish Psalm. 

None of that makes any sense to me. I understand that these things happened, of course, but don’t understand the significance behind them. 

For sure all this was very significant. The events are recorded in each of the four gospels. The boughs from trees … the young donkey … the timing of it being just days before the Passover … the cloaks … the chants of the crown … it was all hugely symbolic.

I don’t intend to unpack that symbolism in this blog post. It’s important, I know, but I don’t have the space to do it justice. Not if I want to rabbit on about my peace lily shoots, anyhow.

I would like to suggest that these green hope-filled shoots can remind Christians like me of the wonder and hope of Palm Sunday and of all that this coming ‘Holy Week’ will hold. Let me explain.

Peace lilies – symbolism in ‘my’ culture

In my culture, peace lilies symbolise peace, purity and rebirth. 

‘Peace’ is part of their name, of course. They provide a steady calm presence, without the frills and flutter of many other flowers. 

‘Purity’ is related to their colour. They are pure white. 

As for ‘rebirth’, peace lilies are often given to grieving relatives to express sympathy, so florists tell us. They are not only elegant without being colourful and inappropriately cheerful, but they also symbolise rebirth. I can understand that, having witnessed the miracle of ‘rebirth’ year after year in my own backyard. 

A Christian interpretation of peace lilies’ symbolism

Jesus’ death and resurrection brought peace – peace between God and us, and peace between one another. The Apostle Paul wrote at length about that. (See, for example, Ephesians 2:14-22.) Peace lilies can remind us of this precious peace. 

Jesus’ death and resurrection was only effective because Jesus was pure. The Old Testament is full of the nasty imagery of sacrifice. A lamb or goat or bird that was without blemish was killed as a picture of the innocent taking the place of the guilty. Jesus fulfilled all that. I hate such distasteful imagery. Give me a pretty white flower any day. 

Yes, yes, I know … like it or hate it, the atonement is a key element of our salvation. It may be distasteful but so is sin. I am eternally grateful that God’s perfect Son became a sacrifice on our behalf. 

Rebirth is not a term I like to use, given how confusing it can be to people who believe in reincarnation. The rise of Buddhist elements in popular Australia culture, however, is probably exactly why the term ‘rebirth’ is now associated with peace lilies.

In any case, like it or not, ‘rebirth’ assumes the horror of death. Let peace lilies remind us of that.

As followers of Jesus, we have a tremendous hope of resurrection and life eternal. Unlike the peace lily plants which die back then reshoot year after year in the back corner of my garden however, Jesus only died and rose again once. One life – one death – one resurrection. And what a blessed hope that provides for those of us who follow him. 

Now and not yet

My backyard peace lily plants are poking their green heads through the soil and growing fast, but the glory of those blazingly white flower-like sheaths are still months away. Such glory is present, somehow, in those green shoots, but it is far from visible yet. Now and not yet … that’s my peace lilies.

‘Now and not yet’ is an aspect of faith, too, that frustrates Christians like me no end. Our hope of eternal salvation is sure and it is great … but in many ways it is still our hope and not our reality. We are already saved … and yet our earthly bodies still age and decay. We are already transformed … and yet the process of transformation is long and arduous. We are already purified … and yet we have reason to confess ungodly thoughts, attitudes and actions over and over again.

Contextualisation

No, I don’t really understand the symbolism of the king’s entry into Jerusalem on a donkey two millennia ago on the other side of the world. 

Perhaps Jesus could explain aspects of it to this Australian woman in terms of the peace lily plants growing in her backyard though. Yes, I know – peace lilies are not actually lilies. They’re a bit of a mystery, but a beautiful mystery I accept with joy. 

In fact, much of the Easter story, including the significance of the Palm Sunday events, is a mystery to me. That’s fine. I can live with mystery. Understand it or not, I am extremely grateful for the hope offered through Jesus … a hope that impacts us now and yet there is so much more to come.

Here ends another backyard meditation.

‘The main thing is that the main thing remains the main thing.’ 

Whenever I hear this phrase, I always think of the principal of the Bible College I attended in Sydney in 1992 and 1993.  He used to often remind us enthusiastic young people of this truth. I heard him preach here in Melbourne a couple of years ago, and broke into a smile when he again exhorted this middle-aged woman (and others) to keep the main thing as the main thing. His words and even the impassioned tone of his voice brought me right back to those special years of preparation for a life of ministry.

He’s right. The main thing IS that the main thing remains the main thing. 

But what is the main thing? 

The question

Back in Jesus’ day, an expert in Jewish Law asked exactly the same question. 

The air was thick with tension that day. Jesus had been rubbing those religious leaders up the wrong way, to put it mildly. You can read about it in Matthew 21 and 22. The leaders had quizzed him on contentious issues of money and theology, and Jesus’ answers had been wise and impressive, though not flattering. 

An expert in the Law, surely one who knew what we call ‘the Old Testament’ inside and out, tested Jesus with this question:  “Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?” (Matthew 22:36 NIV).

The answer

Jesus’ answer was short and to the point. 

Quoting the Law of Moses, he replied, “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.” (Deuteronomy 6:5, quoted in Matthew 22:37 NIV)

Then he added a second quote. “Love your neighbour as yourself.” (Leviticus 19:18, quoted in Matthew 22:39 NIV).

“All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments,” added the Teacher. (See Matthew 22:40 NIV).

There was a lot more detail in the Law and the Prophets, but this summed it up: Love God and love your neighbour. 

That was the main thing. 

A follow up question

“Who is my neighbour?” Jesus was asked on a different occasion by another religious leader. (Or perhaps it was the same religious leader but the story was told from a different perspective.)

Space does not permit me to retell the story of the Good Samaritan in this blog post. You can read it in Luke 10:29-37. Interestingly, Jesus reworded the question from ‘Who is my neighbour?’ to ‘Who was a neighbour to the afflicted Jew?’ 

In summary, the Good Samaritan was a neighbour to the helpless Jew, because he showed mercy to he injured man. Jesus contrasts this with a priest and a Levite who refused to show mercy and actually went out of their way to avoid the poor victim.

Something tells me that story would not have gone down well with the religious leaders to whom the story was directed. But that, too, is another story for another blog post. 

Different setting, same answer

Two millennia later in a different part of the world, we are currently asking ourselves a similar question. What is ‘the main thing’? 

Churches today are dealing with a plethora of tricky issues. 

Theology is as complex in our ever-changing world as it was in first century Israel. Today, churches can be divided by our understanding on matters … important matters … matters such as ‘marriage equality’ or to what degree the church should submit to the state. 

Money is as contentious an issue as it ever was, especially when churches become big and powerful. Consider some of the media reports about misuse of funds in mega churches in recent years. 

And then there is the all-too-frequent abuse of power, as current an issue now as it was back in Jesus day. Our media is quick to pick up on that whenever it comes to light. 

All these things must be addressed. Doctrine – integrity – church governance – they are important. Yet against this backdrop of confusion and concern, I remember my college principal’s words of advice. 

“The main thing is that the main thing remains the main thing.” 

But what is the main thing? 

Imagine….

Imagine now some modern church leaders coming before our Lord. Can you picture the delegation of leaders? There is a modern, casually dressed pastor; a robed priest standing solemnly; a Pacific Islander, swaying to hummed music; a Korean gentleman bowing respectfully; and many more. 

They may have many questions, just like those first century religious leaders did. 

I hope very much that Jesus would not need to speak such damning words to them as he did to those religious leaders in the Biblical records. 

“What, Master, is most important?” I imagine a West African leader asking this question.

“Love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind and with all your strength. And love your neighbour as yourself,” our Lord would reply. (I wonder what language and what accent he would use?)

I am confident that Jesus’ answer would not have changed, because, being in very essence God, he does not change. 

Application

Loving God is obvious, though challenging to keep at the forefront of our minds when life is busy. Loving our neighbour is a little more complex. 

Who is our neighbour? 

What does it mean to love our neighbour? 

Jesus would not likely tell the story of the Good Samaritan to this group. Our times are different and he would find something more relevant to the 21st century. I wonder what characters would be in his story? The truth has not changed, even if the times have. 

We must welcome ‘people with problems’ into our communities and love them well. We don’t want to be like those self-righteous religious leaders about whom Jesus was so scathing. 

There will be times when that is not convenient and possibly not even safe. Wisdom will be needed. But loving them and praying for such people is non-negotiable. My own church experienced this first-hand recently. That’s a story not suited to a public blog post. Suffice to say that loving our neighbours can be messy. 

The main thing

The main thing is that the main thing remains the main thing. 

May our eternal, unchanging Father grant us all that we need to love him with everything that is in us, and to love our neighbours as ourselves. 

For that is the main thing. 

In the midst of our complex and often stressful communities, may it remain the main thing. 

This is part three of this blog series on 1 Samuel 3 – the story of Samuel’s ‘call’. In the previous two blog posts, I have spent time thinking about Samuel the boy, then Samuel the youth. Now I finish this short series with some thoughts about Samuel the man … a strong man … a successful man … a man who was held in high esteem by everyone in Israel.

And they all lived happily ever after.

1 Samuel 3 ends happily enough.

The LORD was with Samuel as he grew up, and he let none of his words fall to the ground. And all Israel, from Dan to Beersheba, recognised that Samuel was attested as a prophet of the LORD. The LORD continued to appear at Shiloh, and there he revealed himself to Samuel through his word.
And Samuel’s word came to all Israel.

1 Samuel 3:19-20 NIV

From the very north of the country, Dan, to its most southern point, Beersheba, Samuel’s unique role as a prophet was recognised by all.

So what can we apply to our own lives from this tale of Samuel’s call? Dare we say that obedience to God will result in success?

Not all live happily ever after.

“The safest place for you is in the centre of God’s will,” they say. I agree. But I don’t think that ‘safe’ means ‘comfortable’, ‘convenient’, or even necessarily alive in this broken world.

(Nor does this inspirational quote excuse individuals stubbornly forging ahead with what they want to do without at least prayerfully considering the advice of leaders within the community to which they belong. But I digress….)

Consider what a New Testament author had to say on this topic, centuries after Samuel’s story played out on Israel’s stage three millennia ago.

Now faith is the assurance of what we hope for and the certainty of what we do not see. This is why the ancients were commended….

…. Time will not allow me to tell of … Samuel … and the prophets (who did amazing things).

…. (Other prophets) were tortured…. Still others endured mocking and flogging, and even chains and imprisonment. They were stoned, they were sawn in two, they were put to death by the sword. They went around in sheepskins and goatskins, destitute, oppressed, and mistreated….

Hebrews 11:1-2, 32, 35b, 36-37 NIV

Lesson one from the life of Samuel

Samuel’s first task as a young prophet was to relay bad news. Not just bad news, but devastating news. The family that had raised him – the family of Eli, the high priest – would be killed. It would be an act of divine judgement, enacted by the hands of man. (See 1 Samuel 3:11-18.)

If there is one lesson to be learned from the example of a great prophet, it is this: Do what has to be done, no matter how difficult the task.

Interestingly, Samuel’s career finished with a similarly unpleasant task. In a fascinating passage that gives us a glimpse into an ancient understanding of the ongoing existence of souls after death, Samuel is brought back from the dead to pronounce judgement on King Saul and his family. (See 1 Samuel 28.) The king and his sons would die, despite the king’s vain efforts to disguise himself. It would be an act of divine judgement, enacted by the hands of men … including Saul’s own hand. (See 1 Samuel 31.)

But that’s another story.

Other Biblical examples

Samuel was obedient to a divine call. God used him powerfully. Elijah was obedient to a divine call. He suffered burnout. David was obedient to a divine call. He enjoyed success and wealth … eventually … with a few hiccups along the way. Hosea was obedient to a divine call. His home life was more tumultuous than a 21st century TV show. Jesus was obedient to a divine call. And we all know how his story ended.

No, we can’t claim that obedience to a divine call leads to a comfortable life.

But we DO know how Jesus’ story ends … and it wasn’t with the cross … there was more. The writer to the Hebrews suggests in the passage quoted above that these great heroes of the faith, some of whom enjoyed ‘success’ and others of whom did not, all looked beyond their immediate circumstances.

Now faith is the assurance of what we hope for and the certainty of what we do not see. This is why the ancients were commended….

Hebrews 11:1-2 NIV

Lesson two from the life of Samuel

Look up.

God revealed himself to Samuel as a youth. 1 Samuel 3 records the first time that happened, but it wouldn’t be the last. An adequate view of God enabled Samuel to push through difficulties and do what had to be done.

Has God ever called you to a particular role? Has he gifted you to do or be something significant in his kingdom? As I explained in an earlier blog post, the New Testament teaches that Christians have all been gifted in different ways so that we can pull together as the church and ‘be’ his body in this broken world.

Perhaps you, like me, sometimes find it difficult to persevere. That’s where we need to look up.

A contemporary example

I am no prophet. I am just a middle aged Australian woman who has been given the privilege of a fascinating international life.

In an earlier blog post on Samuel’s story, I explained that God had clearly called me to a particular role eight years ago- that of ‘member care manager’ at a particular time in a particular setting. In that role, there was administration. A lot of administration.

I hate administration. I am just not good at it. But in that role, it just had to be done. God had called me, and God would enable me … or grow patience in me and everyone around me.

Okay … so here is the truth. After I had a melt down over admin mayhem, a kind woman connected with the network offered to take over that part of the job. It’s a long story, but we got all the appropriate approvals and she made what had seemed impossible quite do-able. In fact, in her capable hands, it looked positively easy.

In the ‘member care manager’ role, there was also a significant amount of conflict needing to to be managed. In times of conflict, my natural instincts are like that of a tortoise. I want to just pull my head in and stay safely under a hard shell until things settle down. No kind woman came forward and offered to manage conflict for me.

When I looked at my own abilities, I didn’t have much to offer. But when I looked to the one who had called me, I was able, somehow, to be useful in his work of bringing healing and wholeness to his body. Despite and even through the many and various conflicts that the role entailed.

That was then. This is now. I have long sensed a ‘divine call’ to write, amongst other things. But how? When? What? I am not good at plugging away on big projects. I need lots of small, real deadlines. Imaginary deadlines don’t seem to do it for me anymore, though they did once.

Look up! Persevere. That again is where faith comes in.

This is now my fourth year of at least writing semi-regular blog posts. In this format … a format in which the administration required by me is minimal … I have tens of thousands of carefully chosen words on all sorts of topics. Just a couple of days ago, I was able to pull up a couple of blog posts from 2018 and use them in a training session. I have a number of other short articles and collections of stories under my belt, some of which are still useful in various settings. And I have plenty of unfinished projects as well, I confess.

God doesn’t make it easy. But he does make it possible.

My story is mundane. It is nothing like the stories of perseverance which those ancient prophets, such as Samuel, modelled for us. But it is my story. I know you have a story too.

And they all lived happily ever after

Actually, they DID … or will … or somehow already do … live happily ever after. The writer to the Hebrews finished that great section about ‘heroes of the faith’ from which I quoted a few paragraphs back with a statement that I don’t understand but accept. My perspective is fixed in time and space and is rather limited.

God had planned something better for us so that only together with us would they (the great prophets, like Samuel, and other heroes of the faith) be made perfect.

Hebrews 11:40 NIV

I know full well that perfection is not what I experience now. In fact, ‘a tendency towards perfectionism’ sometimes holds me back from full obedience, I admit.

But in Jesus, we are made perfect. Those prophets of old had not seen with their own eyes what God would do amongst his people, but they knew that God had called them to a job and do it they did, come what may. We look back to the historical person of Jesus, and we have the New Testament which explains a lot more about what God is doing. I don’t know quite how, but I do know that Jesus makes us perfect, together with those official ‘heroes of the faith’.

That encourages me to persevere. That encourages me to do what is difficult. That reminds me to look up.

Just like Samuel did.

Persevere – look up – be like Samuel

Samuel the boy … Samuel the youth … Samuel the man … I have loved spending time in 1 Samuel 3.

His God is my God … our God. Three thousand years may separate Samuel and us, but that is nothing to the eternal God who calls us to participate in his work in his way.

Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see. This is what the ancients were commended for.

Hebrews 11:1-2 NIV

This is what Samuel was commended for.

That is what we will be commended for too, as we walk in faith, step by step, persevering through difficulties and looking up.

In a recent blog post, I presented the first of a three part meditation on ‘the call’ of Samuel, as recorded in 1 Samuel 3.  It was entitled ‘Samuel – the boy’. This is part two.

A tale of two boys and a cat

I want to start by telling you about two boys named Samuel. And a cat.

The Jewish historian Josephus believed that the biblical character, Samuel, was about 11 years old when God called him.  That 11-year-old boy feels so distant, his story being set half a world away and over 3000 years ago. The cat, however, pictured below, connects me to a flesh-and-blood 11-year-old boy named Samuel right here, right now. Visualising the Australian Samuel of 2021 helps me better imagine the Jewish Samuel of approximately 1070 BC.

So what does the boy, Samuel, have to do with the cat? The cat in the photo above was born about a year before ‘my’ Samuel. She was part of Samuel’s family long before she ever became fond of me.

When Samuel was six years old and the cat seven, the family moved interstate. The cat stayed with me ‘just until the family got settled’. By that time, I was loathe to let her go. The family agreed that she could stay. Hence I am somehow related to Samuel’s family … through the cat. 

Aussie Samuel

‘My’ Samuel is a fun-loving boy. He once changed the alarm for the timer on my phone to sound like a duck, and set it to go off during dinner. He just about fell of his chair in laughter as we adults tried to figure out where the quacking was coming from. Although I have since changed phones, I have kept the duck as my timer sound because it reminds me of a very special boy.

‘Aussie Samuel’ is an avid reader. After I visited them one time, he asked about my reading material for the trip home. “What do you like to read?” he asked.  “I like a good story with some action,” I replied. Before I left, I had been persuaded to download an Alex Horowitz book called ‘Alex Rider – Stormbreaker’. I thoroughly enjoyed it. It looks rather out of place in my Kindle library amongst the more boring titles.

Perhaps you have an eleven-year-old boy in your life that you can picture as we work through this blog post about the Jewish youth, Samuel. For that Samuel, growing up in the Tabernacle of God under elderly Eli’s care, was just as much a flesh-and-blood kid as any other 11-year-old in any other time and place.

And so now let’s look at the story of ‘the call’ of the Jewish Samuel of three millennia ago. 

The call

“Samuel, Samuel,” God called.

This was the first time that Samuel had heard God’s voice. It would not be the last. 

What did the voice sound like, I wonder? Samuel assumed it was the voice of the old priest, Eli, at first, so it must have sounded similar. Some passages in the Bible sometimes describe the voice of God as being like that of a man, but at other times it is described as sounding like trumpet blasts and thundering water. In one instance, it was like a whisper in the silence. 

In this case, Samuel twice responded to the voice by running to Eli. But then Eli instructed him to respond with the sentence that has been oft-repeated by praying people since: “Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.” 

Interestingly, although Eli told him to say, “Speak, Yahweh, for your servant is listening,” Samuel omitted the name of God in his response to the divine call. Was he reluctant to speak the name of the Almighty One? He was quick to identify himself as the servant of the one calling him, at any rate. 

God had news for Samuel, but it was a difficult news. God wanted this 11-year-old boy to know ahead of time how God would act in judgement against this family that had basically raised him. No wonder Samuel was afraid to tell Eli the next morning about the news he had received. 

Eli had actually already been given this awful message of judgement – see 1 Samuel 2 – so it would not have come as a shock. If anything, the repetition of this message through young Samuel would have served to confirm to Eli that the words were from God himself. All Samuel had been told did indeed come to pass.

What God gave Samuel wasn’t exactly a call to a particular role, but foreknowledge. We talk of ‘Samuel’s Call’ but the extent of ‘the call’ was the voice in the night calling his name. God didn’t ‘call’ Samuel with a suggestion that Samuel might like to be a prophet. Samuel had no say in the matter. He called Samuel because he was a prophet and that’s what prophets do … they hear from God and relay what they hear.

I imagine that Samuel had gone to bed a child that evening. The next day, after a broken night’s sleep, he arose a young man with a heavy responsibility. 

God’s call of others

At various times in history, God has very specifically ‘called’ individuals for particular tasks. Their ‘calls’ seldom came in the form of an invitation. Sometimes they were told what they were to do, but other times, they just found themselves living out God’s call on their lives.

Think of Adam and Eve, working in the Garden of Eden. Or of Joseph’s role in preparing a place of refuge for his family in Egypt, then Moses’ role some 400 years later in leading the people out again. One of my personal favourites is a man named Bezalel, whom God specifically chose and filled with his Spirit to be a master craftsman and a good teacher – that story is recorded in Exodus 31:1-5. Bezalel and his team made the beautiful things, rich with symbolism, in the tabernacle in which Samuel lived at the time of the events described in 1 Samuel 3. 

As Christians, we are each filled with God’s Spirit and uniquely placed to play a role in God’s community, the church. The New Testament contains lists of possible roles for each of us. (See 1 Corinthians 12 and Romans 12, for example.)  Some of us are good at administration; others of us are powerful preachers. ‘The gift of encouragement’ is one that I particularly appreciate (Romans 12:8). We are to exercise our gifts and pull together as one body for the common good. Just look around and thank God for the way he has gifted us all differently. 

Specific calls

At the same time, I admit that Samuel’s call was unmistakably clear. How do we know what God is asking of us today? I have never heard God’s voice calling, “Suzanne, Suzanne” in the middle of the night. 

Books have been written in answer to the question, ‘How does God call us to specific roles today?’ The life of the Apostle Paul provides plenty of examples of a man receiving divine direction. Sometimes it was crystal clear; other times it was a decision made by a committee; sometimes it was a result of other options being blocked; other times certain directions were forced on him by circumstances. 

Let me make a few suggestions about recognising and responding to God’s call on us to specific tasks, and illustrate them with a quick story of my own. 

First, be open to what God might be asking of you. Be attentive to an unrest in your spirit or a spark of excitement.

Second, pray about it. Ask God to confirm or direct or ‘close doors’ and be looking for how he might be answering that prayer. Look for a sense of peace or dis-ease (not ‘disease’ but ‘dis-ease’ … though the two are quite similar).

Third, ask others whom you respect and who know you to pray with you. Ask for their prayerful feedback. 

Fourth, try moving gently in that direction and see what happens.  It might not be what you were expecting, but God’s sovereignty is reassuring.

A contemporary example

I have many stories which I could share to illustrate this discernment process, but will limit myself to just one. 

In 2012, I moved back to Asia, where I had previously lived for a decade. I had seen a particular role advertised and my spirit had leapt at it. It involved teaching English in a small company while working alongside and under Asian brothers and sisters in a part of the world which fascinated me. I had prayed, talked with wise people and then applied to go. Other things with my role at that time in Australia were coming to a natural transition point. All up, it seemed like God’s hand was all over the move. 

It was good to get back to Asia but nothing – nothing – worked out as I had anticipated. I will spare you the details but suffice to say that I wondered why on earth God had led me so clearly then … apparently … had dropped me. 

The ‘member care manager’ of the network through which my placement was organised, however, saw things differently. She was retiring and had been praying about a replacement. When she had realised that I had experience in Asia, reasonable language ability in the majority language there and in English, and had worked in a sending office, she had decided that I was the object of God’s succession plan for her. When the labour permit, needed to get a long-term visa in the company in which I was to work, fell through, she quietly gave thanks. She invited me out for tea and explained her plan. 

Never would I have applied for the role she had in mind for me. It involved office work, serving fellow foreigners, lots of administration, and, as I would soon realise, significant conflict. (Mostly, my involvement in conflict was as a concerned onlooker, just for the record.)  All this was necessary for the organisation but none of it was appealing … not to me, at least.

Looking back, though, I can see that God’s hand was all over that placement. My unique mix of training, personality and history made me ideally suited to that role during a particularly tricky period of the network’s history. My profession made a visa relatively straightforward, as education was the focus of the local company through which we worked. Furthermore, the most rewarding ministry of my whole cross-cultural career came about through church involvement in that city at that time. That’s another story.

At the end of my three-year term, my work role finished … in fact, the whole network closed down … and  I returned to Australia. As it turned out, I found myself in just the right place at just the right time to receive medical treatment for a serious but previously misdiagnosed medical condition. That is another story again. 

In terms of ‘call’, then, let me just say that we don’t all hear voices in the night calling our name. God does, however, lead us through life as we actively listen. I count it a privilege to have participated in God’s work in that part of the world during that particular time.

Here and now

Will we … will I … say with Samuel, “Speak, for your servant is listening”? 

What does it meant to listen? 

As I write, one part of my mix-n-match job description … the study part … will come to a natural conclusion in the middle of the year. (Assuming, of course, that I work hard this semester.) As I consider what will take up that approximately 0.3 workload allocation, I will need to be looking, listening and praying, “Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.”

Perhaps we are ‘called’ to do big, important things in God’s kingdom. Perhaps our roles are less flashy, such as those who are gifted encouragers and so play a significant but not obvious role in God’s work. Perhaps we are simply to endure through difficulties, keeping our eyes fixed on Jesus … though I hope that isn’t my call for this next chapter of life, and have no reason to expect that it will be.

Whatever our call, we are called to be ourselves, Spirit-filled gifted individuals, in the communities in which God has placed us. As we do this, ever attune to the nudges of the Holy Spirit, may God use us for his glory and the expansion and consolidation of his kingdom. 

Back to the cat and her boy

The Samuel to whom I am somewhat related through the cat continues to grow up in a loving home with his parents, siblings and a dog. His life is far removed from that of the Biblical Samuel after whom he was named.

The same God who spoke to Jewish Samuel some three millennia ago continues to speak to us today. Sometimes his call is loud and clear. At other times it is calm and quiet. He does not always invite us to share in his work. Sometimes he just tells us what he is doing. And sometimes, we simply find ourselves living it.

My prayer for Australian Samuel is that as he matures into a young man, he, too, will respond to God’s call on his life with the words, “Speak, for your servant is listening.” That’s my prayer for his middle-aged cat-aunt too … that’s me, by the way.

God made us. God equips us. God knows us. God calls us.

How will we respond?