On the Way: “What’s That in Your Hand, Mr. Adams?”
April 9, 2014
Last Sunday’s sermon looked at the conversation between God and Moses at the burning bush. We considered what it might mean for God ask us the question he asked Moses: “What Is That in Your Hand?” This is a potentially life-defining question to answer, one that invites us to look at who we are, what we do, and where we’ve been in light of God’s plans for us.
It’s important to note that God’s question isn’t just for those contemplating professional ministry, and it’s not limited to God’s interest in our religious involvements. God’s question challenges us to consider every aspect of our everyday lives in terms of the impact God can have through us.
That brings me to Mr. Adams and what his life suggests as a way of thinking about our own. I tell his story in my book, Blackbird Singing in the Dead of Night, and I think it’s worth retelling as an encouragement to think vocationally about the day-to-day particulars of our lives:
The preacher Carlyle Marney liked to tell a story from his own childhood to clarify the concept of vocation. During his boyhood years, Marney’s family owned a contrarian cow named Daisy whose milk production offset her disagreeable temperament. Unfortunately, the genetic gift that made her such a great source of milk came with a price. Each time she calved she developed life-threatening mastitis.
She would have died more than once had it not been for Mr. Adams and his unique sense of vocation. President of the small town’s bank and elder at the local Presbyterian church, he lived just across the alley from the Marneys. When Carlyle’s father called, even in the middle of the night, Mr. Adams would come running, bicycle pump and ointments and hot water in hand, ready to pump and soothe Daisy into production for another season. This, according to Marney, is vocation!
But who is Mr. Adams? Was he neighbor, elder on a Christian mission, banker serving a very modest customer, or a cattle-loving veterinarian with a sympathy for a hurting beast whose name came from the side of a churn? Answer: He was all of these at once. But in the arrangement of the scenery of his life’s drama, he was living out his identity, using the special gifts, interests, experiences that gave him a role as a means of relation. And his work, his energy in relation, were all serving a proper relational end. The term for the whole—role, work, proper end, is vocation. And from which of these roles and ends is his identity derived? Answer: From none of them. He is all of them at once.
This is an understanding of life that captivates me: the idea that God can weave the many-colored threads of my life into something of beauty and grace. Life is not something to compartmentalize into separate, unrelated parts, nor is it only a succession of days to check off the calendar. Life is a gift from God, meant to be lived:
April 9, 2014
Last Sunday’s sermon looked at the conversation between God and Moses at the burning bush. We considered what it might mean for God ask us the question he asked Moses: “What Is That in Your Hand?” This is a potentially life-defining question to answer, one that invites us to look at who we are, what we do, and where we’ve been in light of God’s plans for us.
It’s important to note that God’s question isn’t just for those contemplating professional ministry, and it’s not limited to God’s interest in our religious involvements. God’s question challenges us to consider every aspect of our everyday lives in terms of the impact God can have through us.
That brings me to Mr. Adams and what his life suggests as a way of thinking about our own. I tell his story in my book, Blackbird Singing in the Dead of Night, and I think it’s worth retelling as an encouragement to think vocationally about the day-to-day particulars of our lives:
The preacher Carlyle Marney liked to tell a story from his own childhood to clarify the concept of vocation. During his boyhood years, Marney’s family owned a contrarian cow named Daisy whose milk production offset her disagreeable temperament. Unfortunately, the genetic gift that made her such a great source of milk came with a price. Each time she calved she developed life-threatening mastitis.
She would have died more than once had it not been for Mr. Adams and his unique sense of vocation. President of the small town’s bank and elder at the local Presbyterian church, he lived just across the alley from the Marneys. When Carlyle’s father called, even in the middle of the night, Mr. Adams would come running, bicycle pump and ointments and hot water in hand, ready to pump and soothe Daisy into production for another season. This, according to Marney, is vocation!
But who is Mr. Adams? Was he neighbor, elder on a Christian mission, banker serving a very modest customer, or a cattle-loving veterinarian with a sympathy for a hurting beast whose name came from the side of a churn? Answer: He was all of these at once. But in the arrangement of the scenery of his life’s drama, he was living out his identity, using the special gifts, interests, experiences that gave him a role as a means of relation. And his work, his energy in relation, were all serving a proper relational end. The term for the whole—role, work, proper end, is vocation. And from which of these roles and ends is his identity derived? Answer: From none of them. He is all of them at once.
This is an understanding of life that captivates me: the idea that God can weave the many-colored threads of my life into something of beauty and grace. Life is not something to compartmentalize into separate, unrelated parts, nor is it only a succession of days to check off the calendar. Life is a gift from God, meant to be lived:
- In responsive relationship with God;
- In loving relationship with neighbor;
- With a noble sense of purpose;
- In a way true to our own individuality;
- With a sense of wholeness, every part of our life related to all of the other parts; and in a way that continues to unfold, and even evolve, over time.