“Who are you arguing with?”
I heard that question audibly, loudly, clearly, and distinctly. I won’t swear that you would have if you had been with me there on the upper level of Emory & Henry College’s Kelly Library that evening, but I heard it.
I sat in a study carrel one night during my first year of college, and my mind had wandered from the academic subject on the pages before me to the bigger picture of my life and vocation. I was imagining the life that I would live on my family’s farm and making the case that an attorney could do just as much good for the Kingdom of God as an ordained minister when I heard the voice.
“Who are you arguing with?”
Two thoughts immediately occurred to me: (1) I would have expected the voice of God to use proper English grammar by asking, “With whom are you arguing?” and (2) I had the undeniable sense that God was calling me into ordained ministry rather than law.
I wasn’t entirely surprised. I had grown up in the Abingdon United Methodist Church where my formative experiences in children’s, youth, and music ministries had offered plenty of opportunities to grow, stretch, and be mentored in the faith.
When I was not quite twelve years old, our congregation hosted a retirement reception for our beloved pastor, Rev. Harrison Marshall. He was not a tall man, but I was a tall child, so we saw nearly eye-to-eye when he placed both of his hands on my shoulders and looked intently into my eyes. I’ll never forget the words he spoke to me: “Jonathan, I want you to keep your ears open, because I believe God is going to call you into ministry.” Maybe I was able to hear the life-changing question that night in Kelly Library because Harrison Marshall had urged me to keep my ears open.
Several years later, after I had graduated from Emory & Henry College and was in the midst of my graduate studies at Emory University’s Candler School of Theology, I reached a moment of fatigue. Looking back, I think I may just have been ready for some variety from academic work, but in that moment, I had some questions about my vocational calling.
So, I returned one weekend to the place where I had most clearly heard that calling–Emory & Henry College. This time, I sat in the chaplain’s office in Memorial Chapel, where I had a conversation with Rev. David St. Clair. To help me sort out my own calling, I rather innocently asked him, “When did you hear the call to ministry.” He answered, “Most recently, this morning.”
I laughed nervously, because I thought he might have been joking. He was not, and he went on to describe his conviction that we answer that call regularly, frequently, daily as we choose to follow and go where we are called and sent in Jesus’ name. I returned to Atlanta with newfound energy and enthusiasm, believing that each class, each day of class, and maybe even each conversation, was my next opportunity to hear and to respond to God’s call.
Now, years later, whatever good I am able to do, whatever fruit I am privileged to bear, whatever little light I am able to shine–all of these are the results of hearing my calling at Emory & Henry College.
Now, because of age, experience, and maturity, I am more likely to be the mentor in the conversation. I am more likely to be the one encouraging a young person to listen or helping a young person to work out a sense of vocational calling.
Now, because of age, experience, and maturity, I am tempted to believe that I have wisdom, which further tempts me toward more talking than listening. In our younger years, systems of seniority frustrate us. We recognize and often resent that the people who have put in their time have the voices with influence. In our older years, we are so delighted to be heard (and to have that influence) that we forget how frustrated our younger selves were when our voices and perspectives felt diminished.
Now, perhaps more than ever, I need to be reminded of Rev. Harrison Marshall’s words: “Jonathan, I want you to keep your ears open.”
That’s why I am delighted to lift my voice in support of the Holston Conference’s New Voices campaign.
By our June 2024, our goal is to raise $1.5 million to support ministries that enable our young people to hear their callings and to find their voices. This offering will benefit our five conference camping ministries, five campus ministries, and two universities–including my beloved Emory & Henry.
That’s the beauty of this effort and offering. Where Emory & Henry College is crucial to my story, dozens or hundreds of people might tell similar stories substituting the names of the other ministries whom this offering will benefit. They have heard their callings or found their voices at Camp Dickenson, Camp Bays Mountain, Camp in the Community, Camp Wesley Woods, or Camp Lookout; at the Wesley Foundation at the University of Tennessee at Chattanooga, the University of Tennessee in Knoxville; East Tennessee State University; the University of Virginia at Wise, or Radford University; or at Emory & Henry College or Tennessee Wesleyan University.
I ask you to join me in ensuring that our young, rising leaders have the opportunity to hear their callings and to find their voices. In fact, I ask you to join me in the effort to celebrate my fifty-two years of life in the Holston Conference of the United Methodist Church by raising $5,200 for the New Voices campaign.
After all, “Who are you arguing with?”
Still on the Way . . . 