Breath of the Spirit Reflection: The Complexity of the Call
A simplistic view of God’s call would have us expect a clearly worded directive telling us just what the All-Loving One would have us do. Today’s reflection reminds us, though, that the Divine call requires interpretation and understanding lest we baptize our own predilections in God-talk. It is not that Love does not call us, but rather that Love’s call must be discerned in the midst of complex lives as opposed to divorced from them.
January 14, 2024: Second Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year B
1 Samuel 3:3b-10, 19
Psalm 40: 2, 4, 7-10
1 Corinthians 6:13c-15a, 17-20
John 1:35-42
The Complexity of the Call
A reflection by Marianne Seggerman
What is a call? It is one of those English words with a number of meanings. One of them is this: it is a term in theater which is the act of projecting the voice through the bones in the forehead, a skill which was necessary before amplifiers. I attend Catholic Mass at a church by the shore in West Haven, Connecticut, and one of the two deacons does this instinctively: the Ethel Merman of the pulpit. This is not the meaning or the word call in the reading from 1 Samuel. That call is the one in which God calls us, individually and by name, to do God’s will. In the Bible passage a young Samuel keeps thinking it is Eli, his mentor, giving him instruction but no, it is God. Usually, it is the other way around—a person convinced some action is in response to a call from God when it suspiciously benefits their own agenda or desire, or reinforces a prejudice.
I recall a Dignity Convention from years ago (Chicago? Boston?) and a workshop with Edwina Gateley. She had just come off a triumphant sojourn as a missionary in Africa (Uganda, I believe) having battled the forces of misogyny in church. She shared that God had just called her to minister to the ladies of the night in Chicago. So, she was off to the Midwest. This was just the kind of call Samuel received—but why he thought it was Eli isn’t made clear. I don’t for a moment suggest that her call from God wasn’t authentic—or was motivated by base intentions. No, just that the call from God isn’t usually that specific or detailed. I am suggesting that we need to assess our perceptions of a call from God to us. Is it authentic? How do we judge? Can we ever be totally sure? And can we, perhaps, be a bit skeptical when such a call comes with elegant and self-serving precision?
The second reading is from a letter of St. Paul to the nascent Christian community of Corinth. The last few Epistles I commented on were to the people of Thessalonica. That got me thinking—what language(s) did Paul use in his ministerial travels—and what was his native tongue? I don’t have a background in Biblical history, but I believe Greek was his first language. As an educated man in the first century CE, he would also have known Latin, the language of commerce, and more to the point, the conquering Romans. Might he have spoken Hebrew to some of his Jewish audiences? What this means to me is that even before the Bible was written down—and translated into a myriad of languages—the word of God was filtered through the nuance of language. When Paul spoke or wrote, did he always use his native language? And did those who heard or read Paul’s words hear them in their native tongues? A while back I looked at two mid-20th century classics of literature written in the authors’ second language. I noticed how very different the two works were, just on account of the language they were written in. Today, I encounter individuals for whom English is not their first language, both on the pulpit and at work. Like Paul they are communicating with a flock using something other than their native tongue. What exactly is it Paul is saying to the people of Corinth? Something about how the body is holy and should not be debased. Fair enough. But I suggest caution to anyone who attempts to parse too precisely contemporary meaning from inspired thoughts that have undergone several linguistic approximations before we have encountered them in English.
The gospel recounts another call, where Jesus is beginning His ministry by gathering a core group of disciples. How could Simon, Paul, John, and Andrew just drop their nets and follow Jesus? Didn’t they have family obligations that they were leaving behind? What about the money their fishing brought in to support their families? I’m speculating that the reality was a lot more complicated than interpretations from my parochial schooling led me to believe. After all, a later story has them going back to fishing! Also, how did the women, who followed Jesus and stayed with Him to the very end, manage to traipse all around what is now northern Israel? They probably didn’t. I suggest the call of Jesus to “Come, follow me,” was more spiritual and figurative than literal. I am not suggesting it was not still demanding and life altering, just that perhaps Jesus followers responded to their call in the midst of their daily lives as opposed to by leaving those lives behind.
Marianne Seggerman joined the chapter of Dignity New Haven around 30 years ago. That chapter is no longer, alas, but she continues to attend the biannual conference. In her day job she is a computer programmer living (and for the moment working) in Westport, Connecticut. She is in a long-term relationship with a person raised Jewish who converted to the Mormon faith.
