For the Sake of the Call

In the third chapter of You Only Have to Die, Jim Harnish recounts how he came to Hyde Park United Methodist Church in Tampa, Florida in the first place. It came about as a result of the appointive process, which has been the way that United Methodists (and our various denominational predecessors) have deployed clergy over the years. We are called as clergy to ordained (or licensed) ministry and then sent to where the bishop and cabinet believe that we can serve the most effectively in making disciples of Jesus Christ for the transformation of the world.

Jim Harnish had been at St. Luke's United Methodist Church at Windermere, Florida, for thirteen years. For United Methodist clergy, that is a long appointment. He had been the church's founding pastor, and he looked forward to continuing ministry there.

But a call came from the bishop, as it sometimes does, and Jim found himself involved in a conversation about what it would mean for him to be appointed elsewhere--more specifically, to Hyde Park United Methodist Church in Tampa, which was significantly smaller than his current appointment, located in the "inner core" of a city rather than the suburbs, and blessed with only half the budget.

It was not an appointment that Jim would have chosen. It did not seem like the right time to move. There were more questions than answers. And yet he chose to make the move. It was, as he writes, "for the sake of the call."

That sentiment came through powerfully in the refrain of the song, "For the Sake of the Call," by Stephen Curtis Chapman. The words are:

"We will abandon it all for the sake of the call
No other reason at all but for the sake of the call."

When I was appointed as the pastor of First United Methodist Church in 2001, it was not where I had expected to go. But things change, as they sometimes do on the cabinet, and this is where I was appointed. I shall always be grateful to Jeanne Devine, who was the Hutchinson District Superintendent at the time, for being a strong advocate for me and my ministry and for doing all in her power for a smooth and effective transition.

The song that I carried with me into this appointment was not anything theologically significant. It was Lee Ann Womack's song, "I Hope You Dance." I haven't lived up to the ideals of the song, but it continues to resonate in my heart, particularly the second verse and refrain:

"I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance
Never settle for the path of least resistance
Living might mean taking chances, but they're worth taking
Lovin' might be a mistake, but it's worth making
Don't let some hell bent heart leave you bitter
When you come close to selling out, reconsider.
Give the heavens above more than just a passing glance.
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance,
I hope you dance.

The truth is that sometimes I have sometimes felt like sitting it out. I have felt like taking the path of least resistance. I have wondered on more than one occasion if I am the right pastor for this appointment at this time in First Church's history. I have feared the mountains in the distance and the mistakes that I have not always been willing to make.

At times, I have thought about asking for a less challenging opportunity. And yet there is something that keeps me going, something that draws me forward, something that still invites me--figuratively if not literally--to dance.

I appreciate Jim Harnish's citation of a sermon by a longtime friend of his, O. Dean Martin. The title was "Why Windshields Are Larger Than Rearview Mirrors." Both are important, of course, but we need to have a windshield sense of the future, as we look clearly, hopefully, and even joyfully at all that God is yet to bring into our lives. True, we need to glance back every now and then to see from whence we have come, but it is more important for us to look ahead and see as clearly as possible God's vision of the future.

We are invited, encouraged, and challenged to live by the words of the apostle Paul:

"Not that I have already obtained this or have already reached the goal; but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own. Beloved, I do not consider that I have made it my own; bgut this one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus" (Philippians 3:12-14).

May we find ourselves called to God's purpose and direction, as we move into the future with hope that God has in store for us! And, when the choice comes to sit it out or dance, I hope we dance!