Called not to preach

More than forty years ago, I was called to preach.  Now, for the first time, I have been called not to preach. 

I hope it isn't permanent.  I  still want to get back into the pulpit of some church somewhere as soon as possible.  I like preaching--anyone who has done it for long would say the same thing.  I teach preaching now, as well as other pastoral studies but teaching and preaching are not the same thing.  I want to do it. 

However,  the opportunities for me to preach are just not there at the moment.  I have to conclude for now that God has other plans for me. 

I ask God why.  Can't I be useful? Haven't I been effective?  Don't I have something to say?  Have I gotten so old that you can't use me? 

I'm not alone in this thinking.  I have several friends who are temporarily or permanently out of pulpits who ask the same thing. They would fall all over themselves for a chance to stand in front a a congregation, any congregation and proclaim God's word.  In truth, preaching is a kind of addiction--once you fall in love with doing it, you want your weekly fix. 

I'm that way, I know.  But God has not called me to preach now. He has called me not to preach, but to teach my classes through the week and go listen to someone else on Sunday.

Now I'm about two months out of the pulpit,  and I'm beginning to understand a little of what God is doing.

When a preacher has been preaching for a while, a scary things starts to happen to him.  He starts to split in two.  There's a public "me"--Reverend "me"--and plain old ordinary me--mini "me."  Rev "me" is kind, wise and steady,  mini "me" is anxious,  stubborn and unsteady, just like everyone else.  Rev. "me" carries himself tall, straight, and dignified.  Mini "me" slouches on the couch with a coke in his hand,  watching TV, or yells at other drivers in traffic jams, or throw his racket down in disgust when someone beats him at racketball.  Rev. "me" rejoices at the good fortune of his colleagues.  Mini "me" fumes because that pulpit committee didn't even bother to send a return letter for that resume you sent.  Rev. "me" sympathizes with the plight of those less fortunate; mini "me" giggles over the youtube video of that dog running into a wall.  

You get the idea. 

Sometimes God has to slay Rev. "me" to get to mini "me."  The only way I can be real or honest is to take off the robe and the mask, and sit in the pew for a while like every other sinner.

On the whole, I guess I like Rev. "me."  But there's a few things about him that I don't like.  For one thing, Rev. "me" is a profound know-it-all.  He's got an answer for everything.  He knows how to approach God, and how God wants to be approached.  He's got his theology all worked out.  This is easy to do, of course, when he's never out of his own pulpit.  He never sees how other people do things except when he's on vacations, and he never much leaves his comfort zone.  But when Rev. "me" becomes mini "me"  he's in a whole new world. People worship in different ways, have new ideas,  have different burning interests. Some things he expected to be true are true. Other things are not quite as expected.  The world of worship is larger and more varied than we think it is, and we soon find out that there is life outside the narrow confines of our traditions. 

So the past few weeks have been a good learning experience for Joy and I. We haven't yet settled on a place to worship regularly, but we have had some good experiences and met some fine people.  Nevertheless, I pray regularly for God to call me to preach again.

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