GENESIS

“Dan, you left your Bible in my backpack.” NEVER the words I would have expected to come from my mouth as they pertained to my wild child son. I’m not sure my backpack (any of them) had ever even SEEN a bible much less held one. But my son Dan had been working hard but was stressed about money so I had invited him to fly back home on my dime for a camping weekend with a bunch of my outdoor adventure cronies.

By then, Dan had already told me that he felt the One we name God had called him to champion justice and that he felt he could do that best as a minister – a man of the cloth – a preacher man – a pastor– Clergy – the shepherd of some flock. Honestly, I had begun to see some tell-tale signs before he called me that Saturday morning to break the news he would not be entering law school or become a history teacher. I had already suspected he might want to follow some path that let him work for social justice – after all, he was already doing that and had done so for quite a few years already.

I had become used to him being a ‘community organizer’, a usually poorly paid position helping others realize not only their potential but their basic human rights. I could see him as a lobbyist for progressive causes or even as an elected official. But never, I mean never in a million years, would I have believed he would be tapped by the One to be a ‘fisher of men’.

That Saturday morning is burned into my brain. He called me early – much earlier than usual for a Saturday. He sounded like he had slept little and thought a lot. “Mom, I decided I am going to apply to Divinity School.” I asked him if he was sure. Yes, he was. Or at least he thought he was. I reminded him pastoring is not all babies and baptisms. He told me he knew that but he still wanted to pursue this. He asked me to be happy for him and I honestly told him I would support him but couldn’t be happy about him being a magnet for the sick and the homeless and the lost and the dis/spirited. “Dan, there are a lot of really sick and hurting people out there who will be looking for you to fix things.” I told him.

Still, he said it just ‘felt right’. And the days have turned into months, I realize that Saturday was the opening of Dan’s Chrysalis – his morphing from concerned activist to spiritual advisor. I remember I kept suggesting to Spirit that someone else’s child might be better suited. But as Dan grew in faith and certitude, I felt my own spirit open to the very idea that someone is ‘called.’

I’m not a very good Christian. I’m a pretty good Taoist. Taoism is about always trying to be in sync with The Way and knowing that this is quite difficult at times. It’s an easy philosophy to explain and believe and an extremely hard one to live. Because it doesn’t have rules. You are either interested in being in the Way or are just not in the Way.

To me, Christianity has always been very much about rules. Only certain people are going to get to heaven. Only certain people deserve to sit on the side of God. Moses delivered the Ten Commandments to a Nomadic people who had to have social order and we humans thought that meant it was a mandate forever. I’m not particularly good with rules.

And here is my wayward wild child ready to step up to the pulpit and tell people how they should live their lives. Honestly, the thought made me more than a little uncomfortable. My love of Spirit is very meaningful and personal to me. I don’t expect or want to tell other people how to greet Spirit. I was a bit appalled my son thought he had something to tell everyone about how to find/follow/love Spirit. Really? This is the same kid that drove the after-school care program Director to seriously consider retirement. Why in the heck did Spirit choose him anyway?

But I can’t deny the growing glow around him. I can’t deny the reaction of his friends who have enthusiastically endorsed his decision. He is becoming more confident that he made the right choice. Of course, he is human and wanting at least sometimes to push this off until his next lifetime but I have witnessed an increasing assurance that he finally listened to an urge way bigger than him to seek the credentials that would put him in front of crowds of people to help them figure out their way to Spirit. God to him is as addictive as crack to an addict. He just can’t get enough.

Today, Dan received his first letter of acceptance to one of the four schools to which he applied. He is both very gratified and scared at the same time. No doubt being a minister is a huge responsibility. And this path was given to a kid who couldn’t be bothered to pick up after himself without a prod.

World, I can completely tell you with confidence that this messenger is flawed. But as he is quick to point out, most of God’s messengers were. Moses stuttered. Peter had a serious breakdown of confidence. Jonah had to sit in the body of a whale for three days before he was ready to listen. Martin was a Southern black man at a time being black was not an easy path to power. Mother Theresa constantly wrote of her lack of faith in her private journals. The history of faith is full of people who feel like they weren’t ready or didn’t deserve to be called. I’ve often wondered if this is somehow God’s little joke on the rest of us.

So am I finally ready to accept this whole notion of being called? Hell if I know. But I am prepared to acknowledge (barely) that my son is very different than he was before he opened his heart and mind to ministry. I just hope he remembers that although as willing as I was to go toe-to-toe with even the school district Superintendent to protect my wild child, even I can’t beat up an entire congregation. For that, he’s going to have to rely on the One who called him there in the first place.