Where you go, I will go; where you lodge, I will lodge; your people shall be my people, and your God my God.
As I opened up my PC this morning, and realized I got to start reading Ruth, I felt all warm, like settling down with a good book, fluffy blanket and purring cat. I couldn’t even tell you why I had that sense, but it was nice. The book begins with Naomi, her husband and two sons. The sons each marry women from a different tribe than theirs. Eventually, all of the men die – Naomi’s husband and her two sons. This leaves Naomi and her two daughters-in-law, from a different tribe than Naomi. Because a woman’s worth and livelihood is tied to her husbands, Naomi urges the daughters-in-law to return to their homeland to find husbands. One does, but Ruth offers a beautiful song in response, including the line “Where you go, I will go; where you lodge; your people shall be my people, and your God my God.” This is an incredible sacrifice for Ruth, and an honoring to Naomi. Naomi’s God was not the same god as Ruth’s. Naomi’s people were not the same people as Ruth’s. Ruth was stepping into something risky and unknown. Ruth was stepping into something presumably designed by God.
I think I like this story so much because it says something about God’s calling to us, to each of us, regardless of the destination. Some are called to ordained ministry, most are not. But all are called. Ruth was called to remain with her mother-in-law. Ruth may – or may not – have felt God’s call. But she said yes to something that was unknown and risky and right.
In my life I’ve had several experiences of God’s call, all that present and feel different. When I felt I was called to ordained ministry, it was like a persistence drum beat that got louder. I couldn’t ignore or outrun, despite my best attempts. When I finally send yes, it was like the logjam was unstuck, and I was free to float along the fast-moving, unnavigable waters.
Some years later, I had a sense that I should leave the world of city management, and move to a non-profit. It made no sense in my head, as the work would likely be harder, pay would be less, commute would be further. And yet, in my heart, I knew it was the right move. It absolutely was. And it was the first in a series of successful downwardly mobile careers moves for me, all that were right.
Most recently, I’ve been handed the task of caring for a seriously ill loved one. I have no sense of God’s call, no drumbeat, no heartfelt certitude. Rather, I have a sense of duty. Of course it’s what I’ll do. It’s what I have to do. Frequently, it’s a sense of begrudging duty. But I know it’s right.
The reflection accompanying this reading is from Thomas Merton. He says something that resonates deeply with me, and my understanding of God’s call. He says, “I am obscurely convinced that there is a need in the world for something I can provide and that there is a need for me to provide it.” He admits that someone else could, and that God doesn’t actually need him, but God is asking him to do it. Yes.
Of course there’s a risk with this, a risk that I egotistically think that I am super special and chosen. And while I believe that’s true, it’s because of God’s grace, not because of a need to feed my ego.
That small risk aside, I think we are each called to do and be things by God. Some are big asks, and some are small. Some are visible and some are unknown. Some will change the world, and .. Actually, all will change the world, because ‘thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.’.
I think I like this story so much because it says something about God’s calling to us, to each of us, regardless of the destination. Some are called to ordained ministry, most are not. But all are called. Ruth was called to remain with her mother-in-law. Ruth may – or may not – have felt God’s call. But she said yes to something that was unknown and risky and right.
In my life I’ve had several experiences of God’s call, all that present and feel different. When I felt I was called to ordained ministry, it was like a persistence drum beat that got louder. I couldn’t ignore or outrun, despite my best attempts. When I finally send yes, it was like the logjam was unstuck, and I was free to float along the fast-moving, unnavigable waters.
Some years later, I had a sense that I should leave the world of city management, and move to a non-profit. It made no sense in my head, as the work would likely be harder, pay would be less, commute would be further. And yet, in my heart, I knew it was the right move. It absolutely was. And it was the first in a series of successful downwardly mobile careers moves for me, all that were right.
Most recently, I’ve been handed the task of caring for a seriously ill loved one. I have no sense of God’s call, no drumbeat, no heartfelt certitude. Rather, I have a sense of duty. Of course it’s what I’ll do. It’s what I have to do. Frequently, it’s a sense of begrudging duty. But I know it’s right.
The reflection accompanying this reading is from Thomas Merton. He says something that resonates deeply with me, and my understanding of God’s call. He says, “I am obscurely convinced that there is a need in the world for something I can provide and that there is a need for me to provide it.” He admits that someone else could, and that God doesn’t actually need him, but God is asking him to do it. Yes.
Of course there’s a risk with this, a risk that I egotistically think that I am super special and chosen. And while I believe that’s true, it’s because of God’s grace, not because of a need to feed my ego.
That small risk aside, I think we are each called to do and be things by God. Some are big asks, and some are small. Some are visible and some are unknown. Some will change the world, and .. Actually, all will change the world, because ‘thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.’.
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