"Vocation is our willing participation in God's dreams for us... Pope, pew warmer or neither, God has dreams for each one of us. We glimpse those dreams in the pattern of call and response."
"Who would ever want to be king?"
A couple of years ago, Cold Play had a hit song called “Viva la Vida”. It was a song my family played repeatedly and loudly one Christmas, as we danced around the kitchen doing dishes. The lyrics are difficult to decode, and I’m not quite sure what the song actually means.
One verse in particular makes me
think about the challenges of holding a position of immense responsibility and
authority. The lyrics convey the
sense of isolation, the difficulty of making decisions, and the criticism of
being top dog: “Revolutionaries wait/For my head on a silver plate/Just a
puppet on a lonely string/ Ah, who would ever want to be king?”
These lyrics have been clattering
about in my head, over the last week as I followed the media coverage on the
election of a new pope. With the
myriad of challenges facing the institutional Roman Catholic Church and with increasing
public pressure on the cardinals for reform, I found myself wondering, “Who would ever want to be pope?”
The newly elected pope, Pope Francis, formerly Cardinal Jorge Bergoglio of Argentina, inherits a Church in
crisis. He will have to respond quickly to the social realities of the times that
contradict Church teaching. He must reach out compassionately to the growing
number of disaffected Catholics in many countries of the developed world. He
will need to reform the dysfunction within the institution.
Hans Kung, one of the most highly
regarded theologians of our age, noted in a New York Times article, that the
Church could “fall
into a new ice age and run the danger of shrinking into an increasingly
irrelevant sect” if the new pope fails to usher in a “Vatican Spring”.
In this climate, why would anyone want to
be pope? Why would anyone want a position that Canadian Cardinal Marc Ouellet (who
was considered a top papal contender) once quipped would be a “nightmare”? Why would anyone accept a ministry that
leaves him isolated, despite the many advisers around him? Why would someone be open to public
criticism regardless of the leadership style he takes, decisions he makes, or
reforms he institutes?
Personal ambition alone cannot supply the answer
While I am not naïve enough to totally
rule out a cardinal’s personal ambition in the desire to become pope, ambition
by itself cannot supply the answer. The fullness of the answer lies within the
concept of vocation.
Vocation is not limited to those people
who are ordained or consecrated to religious life. I like to think of vocation more
broadly; it is our willing participation in God’s dreams for us. Vocation has a
way of tugging at our heartstrings, stubbornly refusing to go away until we
make some sort of response. It is
a mysterious inner movement that draws us out of uncertainty and reluctance
into service for others.
Like the prophets of old, we do not always
choose our vocation. Sometimes, it chooses us. Sometimes, we feel compelled,
though we are hard pressed to explain why, to assume a task or a position we do
not seek. Once we respond, it may surprise us with delight, or burden us with
dismay. I have experienced it both
ways.
I recall my reaction when asked to teach a
catechism class. I hung up the phone, flopped on the bed with my arms
outstretched, and humorously whined, “No! Why me? I don’t want to do
this!” At that moment, I had said
“yes”, and I was glad that I did.
There have been other times when my “yes”
became a heavy burden. While I did not enjoy those moments, I learned much from
those experiences, and in retrospect, I am glad for them, too.
Call and response: the rhythm of faith, the stuff of life
Life is a series of calls and responses.
Some calls are easier to handle than others. Some will leave us uplifted, enthusiastically embracing the
task and living life with élan, while others will leave us discouraged, battle
scarred and weary. During those
moments, we may wonder, “Ah, who would ever want to be me?”
But here’s the thing. Pope, pew warmer, or
neither, God has dreams for each one of us. We glimpse those dreams in the
pattern of call and response. This
is the rhythm of faith, and the stuff of human life. Responding to God’s call,
be it grand or humble, helps us to decode the lyrics of our own song, until we
find their meaning in our ultimate vocation: oneness with God.
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