by Karen Melang

My days are full of phone calls. The phone rings before I can pull My key out and open my office door. The answering machine blinks and tells me helpfully that I have eight new messages.

I work for a Habitat for Humanity affiliate, and one caller wants an application for a Habitat house. Another is offering to sell me a lot to build on. Someone else wants to be reminded of what service they bought at our last fund–raising auction.

The calls come all day long. Where will we be working on our next construction day? How many people will need to be fed at the worksite Saturday? Do I know someone who can speak Spanish? Can someone who has to perform court ordered community service work at Habitat? I get all kinds of calls.

Sometimes we think of call as a churchy word. Have you ever served on a call committee? We think of pastors and deaconesses, Associates in Ministry, and diaconal ministers as those who have been especially called.

The people who work in the congregations, agencies, and institutions of our church are specially called to their tasks, but they are not the only ones who have a call. One of the bedrock insights of the Lutheran Reformation (which we commemorate later this month) is that everyone is called, not only those who work in churches.

St. Paul reminds us in 1 Corinthians 12 that though the church is all one body, not everyone is an eye. And wouldn’t it be awful if we were all eyes? There would be no hearing or smelling. God has arranged for different body parts: for toes, elbows, retinas, and lymph nodes, all with different jobs to do. We are called to diverse work, but nonetheless, we are all called.

Hearing voices
Lutherans use a particular word for what God calls us to: vocation. That word’s root is the Latin word vocare, to call. Call is an action word, requiring someone doing the calling and someone being called. When we talk about vocation, we mean that the Someone doing the calling is God and that we are the ones being called to specific work in our world.

Not very many of us would say that we hear the voice of God calling us to something in particular. Instead we hear a request from someone at the other end of the phone line. We read the pleading email. We listen to the people around the table, and we hear them say, "I need your help."

We find out about disasters and suffering halfway around the world, and we think, "I could do something about that." Or our imaginations are captured by some problem in search of a solution, and we say to ourselves, "Wow, I would really love to work on that."

This is exactly the way God calls us — through the voices of other people. Sometimes someone who needs our skills calls us. Perhaps there is a general call for help, as during last year’s hurricane season. Maybe someone notices our capabilities and points out that we could do something well that needs doing. We hear the voice of another person, but God is calling us through that person.

God calls people to all kinds of vocations, to all kinds of work. God certainly calls some people to be bishops and pastors, church council members, and Sunday school teachers. But God also calls people to design Web pages, plant seeds, process loans, formulate vaccines, change diapers, fill orders, keep accounts, repair copiers, fly planes, serve clients, make meals, build bridges, and do a million other jobs.

How’s the pay?
Jobs and occupations might be made up of tasks, but vocations are never only that. Vocation is God calling you to use your abilities for the good of someone else. A vocation always means you, someone else, and God.

Not all vocations are jobs, nor do they all result in paychecks. Volunteer service is a vocation for some of us. The men and women who build houses faithfully every Tuesday and Saturday in my Habitat affiliate have vocations. All they get for their labor is an annual appreciation breakfast, and, of course, the great satisfaction that comes with working to alleviate substandard housing for our neighbors in need.

If our vocation does result in a paycheck, the size of that paycheck has nothing to do with the worth of the vocation, or with our own worth. Most of us need paychecks, but our worth is not tied to their size. I remember moving from a job that paid more to one that paid less and thinking, "Now I’m worth a lot less." But all of us know those who perform tasks that pay very little. The work of the nursing-home aide or the child-care provider is worth many times their paychecks to us, our families, and society.

Most of us have several vocations at the same time: mother, purchasing agent, daughter, voter, worship assistant, supervisor. Some of our vocations can be distilled and described on a resumé: "Trained 14 staffers on new software. Planned and implemented office move." Some vocations really don’t go on a resumé: "Stayed up all night with feverish baby. Cried with sister–in–law over her diagnosis of cancer and prayed with her."

Some of our vocations we choose by assessing our best gifts. If I’m trying to decide between being a teacher or a truck driver I can ask myself whether being with kids tickles my insides or if the thrill of the open road is even better. When I look at my gifts, where can I serve best? There is contentment all around when what I love to do and do well is what others need. We all sense that in some holy way we have opened the gift of each other and found just what we needed.

New Assignments
There’s no shame in saying "no" to some calls. Any group who asked me to be their treasurer would be turned down fast, and they’d be thankful that they were. If the idea of being stuck with a needle makes you faint, you are very likely not called to be a blood donor. Sometimes we are asked to do something that’s not right for us. Don’t take that job. It’s someone else’s.

Naturally enough, our vocations change over time. We learn new skills, and we are nurtured by our experiences. If we are very blessed, we gain some wisdom about both the world and ourselves. Perhaps our career path changes abruptly. We decide to buy the restaurant. An unexpected job loss gives us the clear signal that it’s time to go back to school.

When my husband’s vocation took us to a new town, I thought I might start looking for work there, though I could have commuted to the job I had. My friend, who turned out to be God’s voice, brought me the classified ads from the newspaper in the new town, with a circle around the Habitat job I have now. "This is your job," were her exact words. "You can wear jeans every day."

She knew my style of dressing, and I’m sure she knew, too, that working on the problem of substandard housing in Jesus’ name was right up my alley. My friend was right. At least for now, this job does have my name on it. Our other vocations change, too. We may be called to care for aging parents or a spouse with Alzheimer’s. We may finally get up the nerve to read the lessons in church or go on an international mission trip. Many of us — if we are listening — will be called to some new task and relationship that we didn’t think we could do before it came on the scene. We never know what God will call us to next. Every day holds the kernel of change and adventure.

Helping in God’s work
In the very beginning, God put humankind, the creatures made in God’s image, in charge. God made them responsible for taking care of every living thing that moves on the earth (Genesis 1:26–28). God also gave the newly minted human beings a garden to cultivate and care for (2:15).

Totally pleased with the creation of the universe, God shared with humankind the capability to bask in achievement and to know the deep contentment of having done good work.

God chose not to be the only worker in the universe. Work was far too much fun to keep to God’s self.

People, too, would be called to work, to plant a field and then to harvest, to knead and bake bread and feed their families. People would be entrusted with planning projects of all kinds and implementing them in order to celebrate joyously that the results were very good.

Creation was very good when God rested, but everything was not done once and for all. Gardens needed tending, land and animals needed care. Even in the brand–new world, there was work to do.

Now, eons removed from that first perfection, many things need to be done for many people. God is calling us to meet the needs of our neighbors, whether our neighbors are our family members, our customers, our patients, our co–workers, our supervisors, our clients, or people all over the world. Serving our neighbors is what God is calling us to do. It is why we are here.

When my daughter Anne was about six years old, she came to me one morning before school. "Do you know why I am me? Do you know why we are here? And I don’t mean in Hackensack," she said, naming the tiny town where we lived. "Do you know what I mean?"

Yes, I knew what she meant.

We don’t find out why we are here all at once, I told her. We find out a little at a time. I am here now, I told her, for you and Marty and Dad. As you grow and listen to God’s voice, you will find out why you are here and who you are called to be and whom you are called to help. She seemed satisfied.

When Anne was in college, I discouraged her from getting a degree in music. "You can’t earn a living with that," said a suddenly practical mom (with a theology degree!). So she majored in psychology for a while, which doesn’t offer such great opportunities for earning a living either.

Soon she came to me and said, "Mom, I have to major in music. It’s what God wants me to do." I was silenced. Anne now owns a thriving piano studio and is music director at her church.

Notice your aptitudes and abilities and nurture them. Listen to the voices of those around you and hear the needs. Pay attention to your experiences and the events and problems of the world. With God’s grace and help, you can do good work.

Karen Melang is the executive director of Fremont Area Habitat for Humanity, Fremont, Neb. She is a member of the Lutheran Deaconess Conference, class of ’71.