In her book “The Story of a Soul,” St. Therese of Lisieux wrote, “He does not call those who are worthy, but those He chooses.” Let me explain why that hit me.
I’ve spent my career, 40 years, working around “called” people–persons called by God to be pastors, and called by God to be missionaries. I’ve seen people with a similar sense of calling to roles we don’t normally associate with “the call to ministry.” That would include people at Huntington University, in church support staff roles…and myself (the IRS usually doesn’t recognize our call). I remember Dad’s struggle with the relentless call to become a pastor, and have heard similar stories from others. God’s call is a real thing.
Among United Brethren ministers, the “called by God” come in all forms. In earlier, immature years (or at least more immature than I am now), I tended to evaluate ministers on giftedness and their ability to grow a church–”ranchers,” church growth gurus sometimes call them. But in the process, I downplayed the shepherds, who were no less called by God, and who spent their careers faithfully serving small congregations and keeping them pointed toward God. We can be so shallow in how we view persons who are hand-picked by God.
I was convicted of this back in the 1980s. There was a minister, long gone from our ranks, who was very quirky and odd. I made some kind of sarcastic remark about him. Bishop Clarence Kopp, a man of grace and compassion who believed the best of everyone, let my words hang in the air for a few seconds, and it seemed like some mistiness came to his eyes. Then he told me, “I would have him as my pastor.” It stabbed me through the heart.
God calls all types of people. St. Therese talked about “the world of souls, which is the garden of Jesus,” and described herself as a “little flower” in that garden.
She wrote, “The splendour of the rose and the whiteness of the lily do not rob the little violet of its scent nor the daisy of its simple charm. I realized that if every tiny flower wanted to be a rose, spring would lose its loveliness and there would be no wild flowers to make the meadows gay….He has created the great saints who are like the lilies and the roses, but he has also created much lesser saints, and they must be content to be the daisies or the violets which rejoice His eyes whenever He glances down.”
Bishop Kopp had sat under the teaching of the loveliest roses, but found just as much beauty–probably more, actually–in the daisies. It’s an attitude I’m still working on.
