When I was in fourth or fifth grade, a family in my neighborhood held a “Backyard Bible Club” every summer in their backyard. Every person in their family played a musical instrument, with one person on guitar, another singing, and one of their older kids playing the drums. For the week of Backyard Bible Club, neighborhood kids gathered in their backyard for songs about God, snacks, Bible verses, and stories of missionaries sharing about Jesus with others around the world. As a shy and introverted kid, the stories about missionaries were surprising and inspiring to me. I couldn’t imagine leaving the comfort of home and going to a new place where I didn’t know the language and I didn’t have any friends or family. 

I remember sitting on the grass in this family’s backyard asking God to make me more courageous. I wanted God to call me to something like missionary work, or at least to some kind of ministry where I could be a braver, more interesting person than I thought I was back then. For one week in the summer, I imagined myself without all the fears that typically held me back. I dreamed about reaching beyond myself and trusting God enough to step into the unknown. “God, if you want to call me to be a missionary, I would go,” I prayed, “but you’ll have to make me braver than I am right now.”

God didn’t make me braver overnight. God didn’t call me to be a missionary either. For a brief moment in seminary, I thought maybe overseas missions was where I was headed, but after ten days in southern Mexico, I realized I’m a truly terrible traveler. But, before we went to seminary, God whispered to me that I did have a calling, and it was going to be much closer to home. “I want you to serve in a church,” I heard reverberate in my heart. “OK, maybe I could be a music director or a youth leader,” I thought. “No, that’s not what I have in mind,” came the reply–not as an audible voice, but as more of a feeling.

Jeff and I went to seminary, and I did everything I could to focus on anything other than pastoral ministry. I tried to enroll in the religious education program, but the program was no longer accepting new students. I thought I’d take the academic track and become a professor, but my professors kept urging me into situations outside the seminary. I told my preaching professor I was only going to preach my nine required sermons, and he smiled and said, “If you say so.” Every step along my calling into ministry, I told God, “Lord, call me… but not like that. Call me the way I want to be called. Send me to where I want to be sent. Use my gifts the way I want to use them, in the specific way that comes the most easily for me.” I didn’t want to have to change my mind about anything or try anything that made me step out of my comfort zone. I was OK with the idea of God making me brave enough to go around the world. I was not OK with the idea of God calling me to show up as faithfully as I could, every single day in a role that I didn’t think I was allowed to have. But, that’s just the thing about calling. It’s not about doing things our way or on our terms; it’s about being open to the leading of God. 

 In both of our passages today, we see the call of God coming in unexpected or even unwanted ways. In Genesis 12, God calls Abram and his family to leave their home in Haran and travel to an unknown, Promised Land. In Matthew 9, Jesus calls Matthew–a tax collector, an unexpected choice–and then is immediately confronted with questions of theology and two people in need of healing. God calls, and Abram and Jesus follow God’s lead, even when God’s calling is surprising and a little hectic. As we explore both of these stories, we are invited to consider our own calling–not just our jobs or vocations, but the way God is calling us to live faithfully in our relationships and how God might be calling us to reach beyond ourselves. We are called to examine the barriers or conditions we put on what we’ll do for God, and we are called to step into the next moment with trust.

First, let’s start with Abram. Back in Genesis 11, Abram’s father Terah gathered up his whole family and set out for Canaan. Along the journey, they came to Haran, and Terah decided Haran was a good place to set down roots. One chapter later, God calls Abram to take his family and go to Canaan, the same place Terah originally planned to go. Abram was 75 years old when God called him. He had built his whole life in Haran. I wonder what Abram thought about God calling him to leave his life and venture into the unknown. I wonder if he felt sure that uprooting and moving to Canaan was the right thing to do. Scripture doesn’t give us Abram’s thoughts, but I wonder how I might have reacted to being called into such an uncertain future at the age of 75. Thinking about the way I’ve reacted to other times God called me in the past, I’m pretty sure my first instinct wouldn’t have been, “Sure! That sounds great! I’d love to pack up my whole life and go somewhere unknown.” And yet, that’s just what Abram does. He leaves his land, his extended family, and the religion of his father–most likely the worship of Babylonian gods (which is hinted at in Joshua 24:2)–and he follows the God who called him. 

What barriers might Abram have faced as he sought to follow God’s call? I imagine he was afraid. If he was anything like me, he might have felt some uncertainty. On a practical level, going into a new land and leaving the safety net of your extended family and livelihood would have been risky. And, one he had seen the land God was promising him, he also saw the Canaanites who lived there. No part of the journey was going to be easy for him.

As God speaks to your heart today and calls you to take action–in a relationship situation, in your job, in your own need to change unhealthy patterns or habits–what barriers do you face? What is getting in the way of you following God’s call? What step or steps might you need to take as you seek to follow with faithfulness? 

When God called Abram, Abram said yes. He faced practical challenges and human uncertainties, but he still stepped into the unknown to follow God’s call. In the story from Matthew, we see Jesus also saying “yes” to God, but in a very different situation. The passage we read this morning from Matthew 9 is jam packed with action. The scene is chaotic, and so much is happening that the lectionary reading for today leaves out part of the action. I decided to leave that part in because I think the constant movement, the constant pulling of Jesus’s attention in different directions matters just as much as what is happening in each part of the story. 

Our passage begins with Jesus calling Matthew–a tax collector who was probably hated for working for the Roman government–to be one of his disciples. He then goes to dinner where there are more tax collectors and “sinners” in attendance, which draws the judgment and condemnation of the religious elite. Jesus reminds the critics that he came to bring healing to those in need of it, not just to hang around with people who already have all their ducks in a row. Right after this, some of John the Baptist’s followers come and ask Jesus why he and his disciples seem to enjoy feasting and celebrating while they are regularly fasting. Jesus tells John’s followers that wedding guests don’t fast, they celebrate. The day will come when Jesus is no longer with his disciples, and that is when they will fast. On the heels of this, Jesus is approached by a desperate father hoping Jesus can raise his daughter back to life, and on his way to heal the girl, he is interrupted by a woman who needs healing. He heals her, gets mocked by the people mourning the little girl, and then raises the little girl back to life. 

Don’t you feel like you need to take a deep breath just thinking about all that is happening in this short passage? As I read through this passage this week, I kept thinking about the days when I wake up and feel confident about what needs to get done. I have my to-do list, whether it’s a mental list or I’ve actually written it down, and right when I start to work on my list, something happens. I go out to my car, and I have a flat tire. I’m in the middle of something, and the phone rings. Or, like happened to me years ago when we lived in Iowa, you get halfway out on a 5 mile run and get a call from the school nurse that your child threw up and needs to be picked up from school. No matter how organized we are, how disciplined we’ve been, how planned out we are, things happen that make us have to change course. Sometimes those new directions are fun and exciting. Other times they are stressful, or scary, or we wonder how on earth we’ll manage what we’ve now encountered. We often think about God’s calling like the calling for Abram to leave his home and go somewhere new, but quite often it happens more like it does in Matthew 9–one new direction after another.

This morning, as we reflect on how God is calling us in our lives–whether we are being called to make a huge life change, or we are being called to live with faithfulness where we are–may God give us the courage to name the barriers and obstacles in our way. What is holding us back? Is it fear? Is it perfectionism? Is it, “If I wait long enough, God will ask someone else to do it?” Whatever it is, may we find the courage to confront it and follow where God leads.

And as we embark on a new week, may God give us the grace to let go of our plans where needed so that we might open our hands to whatever might come our way. As we feast around the Lord’s table together in a moment, may we remember that our primary calling is to be God’s children. And as we are sent forth from this place, may we trust that no matter what happens, no matter what changes, no matter what new situation we face, we do not face it alone. God calls us. God equips us. And God goes with us. Amen.