Assignment and place

For those of us who have taken part in the Candidacy process for ordained ministry in the ELCA we have heard time and again about call. We've been told to articulate our sense of call before committees, to process our call in various communities, and we have been asked to ascribe to certain conditions that put our sense of call under the microscope. Then we are told that we need to be open to be called to any location, any place. For those who have other vocations--families, jobs and school--they are told that if they want a call they have to get up and leave.  Herein lies a problem.

This might be the best process of many potentially bad ones, but it is also very flawed and I think we have to acknowledge that reality. I realize--as I think we all do--that there simply aren't churches in certain areas (many areas) where we might want to go. Yet, there is a fundamental problem with being called out. When God does it, then we are Jonah. But when a committee, or a bishop, or even a church does it we are suspicious about God's activity therein.

We are assured that the process is prayerful, that the spirit is active in its midst, and honestly I don't doubt it. Yet, I have a single question that seems to be under-addressed:  How is it that we can speak about call without honoring the role of place embedded within it?

For my friends who have been assigned to places unfamiliar and unexpected there is a very rational fear at work. They are disconnected, but here's what I want to claim: we are all disconnected and this assignment only points out to a few of us how broken off from place we are.

Pastoral assignees have this moment to reflect on the power of a location. At this moment we are blowing in the wind and we can only hope that the wind really is the spirit and not just a hurricane. When we talk about settling, we talk about roots, family trees, etc. Our roots are shallow, and I don't know what to do about it.  This is no sermon with gospel as the closing word. I think it's there, just beyond the edge of my thoughts at the moment, but honestly I don't want explanations right now. I am happy with my assignment, as much as a person can be, but I'm more concerned with standing with those whose roots have been torn out.

For now, that's all I want. Not to celebrate, but to stand alongside. Maybe after all this process isn't about a personal call, but a communal calling to one another. Maybe this is about more than spreading the gospel to the world; maybe it's about hugging one another. And maybe that's just the start we need.