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Experiencing a Call to Ministry

By Juli Nelson

Here I am, Lord. Is it I, Lord?
I have heard you calling in the night.
I will go, Lord, if you lead me.
I will hold your people in my heart.

In publishing that hymn refrain in 1981, I wonder if Daniel Schutte had any idea how many “preministry” people would resonate with his sentiment: “Here I am, Lord.

Is it I, Lord?”

For most people, recognizing and responding to a call to ministry is a process. It may start with a mysterious “call in the night” or someone else’s affirmation of your spiritual leadership ability, or something as ordinary as finding enjoyment in a particular ministry-related task. The latter illustrates my favorite definition of “call,” attributed to Frederick Buechner. “Call,” he says, “Is where your great joy meets the world’s great need.” It’s where your passion finds expression in service.

But it often takes a lot of support to get there, even if the passion has been identified. Call is commonly understood to include a personal sense of God’s wooing but also the nurture of that call by the Church and others. We see the role of spiritual nurture in shaping biblical leaders. Samuel was brought as a child to the temple where he was mentored in ministry practice by Eli the priest. It was there that God called Samuel, but it was only after Eli confirmed that it was indeed God’s call that Samuel believed it. Saul/Paul had a dramatic God encounter that converted him and called him to ministry in one fell swoop. But his first task in fulfilling that call was to be nurtured by Ananias, a representative of the fledgling Church.

It may be that women particularly need nurture of a call to ministry. For, even now in North America, they still receive mixed messages about the legitimacy of women in ministry. Some are told in churches that they are valued but that they may not serve God in certain spiritual leadership capacities (the “separate but equal” argument). Other women are affirmed in their call but have not seen many models of women in ministry, making it difficult for them to envision it.

Recently, in rereading the conversation between the woman of Samaria and Jesus at a well, I was struck by the elements of “call” that I saw in that story. The call was nurtured by none other than Jesus. Her culture said, “You are a Samaritan,” i.e., “You are less authoritative spiritually (than pure-lineage Jews).” But Jesus, by virtue of His theological conversation with her, communicated the message, “You have equal value.” Her culture said, “You are a woman,” i.e., “You should not have a public voice in the culture, certainly not in the religious culture.” But Jesus, by virtue of His public conversation with her, communicated to her, “I will give you a public voice.” Her culture said, “You are too human, too beset by failure, to have value in this culture,” i.e., “You have nothing to teach us.” But Jesus, in naming her brokenness (five marriages and involvement in a sixth relationship), also named the societal/universal brokenness (only men could write a writ of divorce in that society). In doing so, he liberated her to run back to her village as a proclaimer—as a preacher—and “many Samaritans believed in Jesus because of the woman’s testimony” (John 4:39).

My own call to ministry involved a personal sense of God’s claim on me but also a generous amount of spiritual nurture—an affirmation of that call. The call came at midlife, when I was knee deep in professional and parenting responsibilities. The call was going to make some demands on me, and though it was joyfully compelling, it was also daunting. I savored every affirmation of my call that came from any direction.

I was working as a musician at the time, maintaining a piano studio of 35 students, doing some community accompanying, and holding a church organist position. In the space of one month, I was asked to develop/lead worship at a women’s retreat, and I also found myself providing unofficial pastoral care to a friend experiencing a difficult pregnancy and subsequent stillbirth. During that month, I became aware of how differently I felt when sitting down to write worship materials or holding the hand of my grieving friend than when I was teaching piano. The former energized me; the latter drained and dispirited me. I began to reflect and pray about the feelings. Then the spiritual nurture began as I confided in a mature Christian woman. Her open-ended question jump started my journey to ministry. “Do you think you might be experiencing a call to ministry?” she asked.

The feelings were compelling enough to explore the possibility of seminary work. But before I started, my husband and I, fully aware of the challenges ahead, prayed together one evening. I remember saying, “Lord, if this is just a midlife restlessness, I ask You to take away this sense of compelling.” It was a hard prayer to pray because the compelling was accompanied by deep joy. At the conclusion of that prayer, what I felt has probably best been described by the prophet Jeremiah: “Something [inside me] like a burning fire . . . and I cannot [hold it in].” It was enough to get me started on the seminary journey.

A decade later (I went to seminary VERY slowly), I remained convinced of my call but uncertain of its application. At this point, I had two of the most vivid spiritual experiences of my life, both in the context of conversations with that mature Christian woman who had become a valued mentor on my ministry journey. In one dialogue, she asked me, “If you could name your ideal job, what would it include?” I started to answer, “Well, I’m not sure . . .” but then heard myself saying, as if from beyond myself, “I want to stand in the pulpit and woo and wrestle people to God and God’s ideals; I want to stand at the Communion table and offer the bread and cup to other sinners like myself who have been shown grace; I want to stand beside new parents and welcome life as a gift from God; I want to sit beside sick people and reassure them of God’s presence with them; I want to stand beside the grave and declare that it does not have the last word—resurrection does.” My friend looked at me and said, “That’s what you want?” “Yes!” I said, startled anew by the intense perception that that’s what God wanted me to do.

The second confirming experience occurred a short time later, as I was deliberating between serving in two different types of ministry settings. “Well,” my wise friend asked, “When you think of going to work in these two different types of settings, how do you feel?” I started to answer from my conscious mind: “I’ve got ‘pro’ and ‘con’ lists for each. . . .” Suddenly, I saw a vivid sequence of two pictures in which I was a participant. In one scene, there was a merry-go-round in a windowless room. I saw myself like one of the inanimate objects tethered to the center pole. The other scene was full of sunlight; I was moving freely, and a dove came to light on one of the window ledges. At that moment for me, the images were associated with the two work settings. In a matter of seconds, from beyond my consciousness, came deep clarity about the type of setting in which to fulfill my call.

I’m fairly convinced that those clarifying experiences occurred during conversations with that mature Christian woman because she had invested time and prayer in my ministry journey. She had mentored me, playing a significant role in affirming God’s call on my life. I know that she did that for others, too.

Calls to ministry are not always dramatic. A couple of my “call” experiences were, but in between were ten years of just putting one foot in front of the other, straining to keep balance between family, work, and seminary. During those years, when my journey sometimes seemed so irrational and challenging, it was very helpful to have the ongoing spiritual nurture of others who affirmed the call.

Today, five years later, I serve very happily in two part-time church positions. I pastor a rural church and serve as associate pastor of education at an urban church. I no longer regularly think of my “call” experiences; I just live them. But when I encounter someone “on the journey”—someone considering ministry, or someone who perhaps should because of his/her gifting—I’m reminded of the significant nurture I received on my own journey.

It is probably true that people considering ministry will say multiple times, “Here I am, Lord. Is it I, Lord?” I deeply believe that God will be faithful to issue calls to ministry. My prayer is that there will be willing mentors who will affirm the calls that God so creatively issues. The future leadership of the Church may depend on it.

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