“What do you want of me, Lord? How do you want me to serve you? Where can I sing your praises? I am your song.” Perhaps you sing this song in your parish. We do from time to time. “I am your song.” Hmm. It’s a lovely image, but how does that come to be?
People find their place: David, Solomon, the Disciples
Today’s readings lead me to think about how each of us, each person born, is created by God with gifts meant to help both the individual and the world. In this early part of the Gospel of Mark we have read of the calls of some of the early disciples and the ways that Jesus lived out his gifts with healing, casting out demons, teaching, and sparring with the Pharisees. Today Jesus sends the twelve disciples-meant-to-be-apostles out to do what Jesus has done—to use their gifts to live out the calls.
In the first reading we hear how David “rested with his ancestors” and Solomon came to the throne. The reading comments, “Solomon was seated on the throne of his father David, with his sovereignty firmly established.” David’s military leadership had created a time of peace for Israel. Solomon, with his gifts of wisdom, was now in place to build Hebrew culture in times of peace.
A Place for Each of Us
We all have a place—our place. It is not just a matter of the place of clergy, religious, or lay person. It is not just a matter of married or single—of vocation. Nor is it a matter of what job we do in the world. God equips us with gifts to give, capacities to train, and work to do to build his Kingdom. When we identify those gifts, capacities, and tasks and do them, we gain joy because we are doing what God wants of us beyond the basics of living his precepts.
I’ve been struggling lately with all this. On one hand, I have discovered where God calls me now: service to the elderly and carebound. He has given me a new interest and new capacity to relate well with the elder folk. While this is new, it is also a continuity of gifts he has given me before: teaching, writing, understanding, advocating the Gospel of Life, and working with families. There is a need for this work. I live in a parish where more than one-fourth of our members are 70 years old or older. There is a need for diminishing loneliness and bringing soup, as well as bringing communion. There is opportunity to dramatically increase faith and understanding of faith in many who may have spent their lives only loosely tied to parish and Christ. Some of my experiences have also shown me there is a need for working with elders and their families (who often are not practicing Catholics) to educate them about how we as Catholics see the value of all human life, the value of suffering and dying with the Lord, and the expectations of eternal life. There is a need to actively work with secular health care systems to advocate for managing end of life moments in ways that ensure each person is respected as a child of God.
This work gives me joy.
But doing this means NOT doing that…letting go.
So what’s the problem? While God and I were figuring out what he calls me to do now, I was busy doing all sorts of other things. Now it is time to let go of many of those tasks. Some of them are fun. In some I’m a leader. In one area I’ve spent a year in training for something that I have now discovered is not my gift. I’m having trouble letting go.
Identifying Gifts
Should I let go? How do I know God calls me to one thing and not another? Sherry Weddell, author of Forming Intentional Disciples, has another program called Called and Gifted. In this program people explore their gifts (charisms). In Part 1 of that program you identify gifts you might have. In Part 2 you test them out and discuss your experiences in a small group. In this study Sherry identifies some hallmarks of likely gift (or call to particular ministry):
- There is a joy and energy when you use this gift.
- You have results that are greater than you would expect.
- Other people give you feedback that you are good at the gift or activity.
Of course, if you are called to something it also must meet St. Ignatius’ criteria of being within the Church’s moral teaching, fitting with your state in life (mothers of young families are seldom called to be missionaries to foreign countries), and fitting with health and necessary responsibilities.
King David was well-suited to giving military and worship leadership to the Israelites. King Solomon was well-suited to ruling in times of peace. Jesus chose the 12 disciples who were sent out in today’s Gospel to eventually spread the Good News far from their native land.
We each have our gifts that match our opportunities to use them.
I never knew until I was past 65 years old that God had given me gifts which he calls me to use to build his Kingdom. I’m pretty sure he didn’t mean for me ALL MY LIFE to work with elderly. When I was young I worked with children, and that gave me joy. The past 20 years I’ve worked with troubled families. But there has been a theme of working with people in need and of working within the Respect Life issue all my life. I probably mostly did what God wanted me to without understanding how to discern his gifts to me. I obeyed God because life generally led me that way. Providence discerned for me.
And letting go.
But, honestly, I also did a bunch of work that did not energize me or give me joy, that did not yield great results, and where the feedback was mixed at best. In anger and rebellion I left pro-life work at one point. Looking back, I also wandered, deliberately moved away from God’s will, and missed the security of knowing how to know what God called me to. I have regrets.
Yet, how interesting, it is hard for me to tell others: “I need to withdraw from this project.” It is hard to let go of leadership in something that is taking off to do well. It is hard to let go of some dreams of what I hoped God would call me to do. It is hard to take my place, put my hand to the plow, and turn away from other things I have also been doing.
After all these years and with skills now of discernment (and good spiritual direction), there is some hesitation to go out, with others (two by two), and build the Kingdom in my little, mostly ordinary, way. Pride? Fear? Habit? Attachments? Mostly attachments, I think. But a bit of pride, fear, and habit, too.
So, pray for me.
For the Glory of God
I hope these reflections also lead you to read today’s scriptures with your life in mind. What does God want of you? If you don’t know, maybe Lent would be a good time to explore it. If you are not quite on track, join me in focusing and letting go. If you are on track, thank God and keep going.
Whatever we do, it is for the glory of God. The disciples went out to do what Jesus had shown them to do for the glory of God–to prepare people with experiences of God’s goodness to be ready to listen to Jesus when he came to their village. Solomon ascended to the throne as King of Israel–the leader, the one to now teach his people how to live in peace. That, too, was for the glory of God.
Prayer
Our Psalm today makes a good prayer:
R. (12b) Lord, you are exalted over all.
“Blessed may you be, O LORD,
God of Israel our father,
from eternity to eternity.”
R. Lord, you are exalted over all.
“Yours, O LORD, are grandeur and power,
majesty, splendor, and glory.”
R. Lord, you are exalted over all.
“LORD, you are exalted over all.
Yours, O LORD, is the sovereignty;
you are exalted as head over all.
Riches and honor are from you.”
R. Lord, you are exalted over all.
“In your hand are power and might;
it is yours to give grandeur and strength to all.”
R. Lord, you are exalted over all
“Servant Song” by Donna Marie McGargill, OSM (c) 1984 Oregon Catholic Press. All rights reserved.
For more information on Sherry Weddell’s work on charisms and discernment, see www.siena.org
