
Great, you’re called, but now what? What did God call you to? Being chosen is more than being called. Being chosen implies a choice or, better yet, a preference. It is not enough for me to be called, I want to know that I’m chosen for a specific work in the Body of Christ. I am after purpose and destiny. I want my pre-determined purpose to collide with my reality so that I can watch God work.
				I have to embarrassingly admit that when I first started 
				preaching, my pastor made it look so easy that I thought I could 
				walk right in to the pulpit and do what he was doing. I thought 
				that I could utter those usual adages: God is good all the 
				time, and all the time God is good. He may not come when you 
				want Him, but He's always on time. I know He's alright. I thought that these phrases were the basis of making the people 
				stand up and shout and go home saying the preacher really 
				preached this morning! That's what I thought. I thought 
				wrong...terribly wrong. These were the days when I thought that 
				the major part of my ministry was in the pulpit, and nowhere 
				else during the week. I thought that the congregants didn't 
				bother the pastor or the associates through the week. I figured 
				that they tried their best to handle their issues on their own 
				or prayed through it and that the Sunday morning worship service 
				was the confirmation of the usual adages. I was wrong...terribly 
				wrong. And, for most associate ministers, this very well may be 
				the attitude coming into ministry: not knowing that real 
				ministry is all through the week and not in the pulpit only. 
				First of all, the pulpit belongs to the pastor. It is the 
				ministry that God gave him. He does not have to share his pulpit 
				with anyone. Doesn't matter how many associates he has on staff, 
				he is not required to let you preach. 
				
				Preaching is the thing you get to do when you prove yourself 
				accountable, responsible and teachable. A prayer life goes 
				without saying because when you preach, you lay out your prayer 
				life before the congregation. 
				
				You lay out your study life. The congregation can get a pretty 
				good idea of your walk, when you preach. The first couple of 
				years, they excuse you because you're trying to figure things 
				out. But after a couple of years, if they can detect no growth 
				in you, your ministry can suffer. So not only do you have to be 
				accountable, responsible and teachable to your pastor, but you 
				also need to be an encouraging, empowering ambassador through 
				the week. And you must realize that you are also to be 
				accountable, responsible and teachable to the congregation.
				
				One of my biggest problems when I first started preaching was 
				humility. You have to learn it because humility is not modesty. 
				With modesty, you can kind of take a bit of credit. With 
				humility, you turn all of that attention to God. A sister 
				recently complimented my mother about her raising me, and she 
				did so in my presence. Mother had been to a conference with some 
				ladies and had to ride a bus in order to get to the destination. 
				On the return trip, when I went to pick her up, all these women 
				wanted to say hello and meet me and so forth, which was really 
				overwhelming. But, this one lady, who will remain nameless, told 
				my mother, “You birthed a child of God, bless both of you.” And 
				while I'm learning how to say thank you to compliments, I was 
				utterly and literally speechless. My mother, however, said thank 
				you and bless you. Humility brings a genuine heartfelt response 
				from the people whose lives you have touched and impacted. You 
				never know how someone feels about you until they tell you. You 
				need to learn and master humility, and, yes, folk can tell when 
				you're faking it.
                
One of my biggest problems when I first started
				preaching was humility. You have to learn it because humility is 
				not modesty. With modesty, you can kind of take a bit of credit. 
				With humility, you turn all of that attention to God. A sister 
				recently complimented my mother about her raising me, and she 
				did so in my presence. Mother had been to a conference with some 
				ladies and had to ride a bus in order to get to the destination. 
				On the return trip, when I went to pick her up, all these women 
				wanted to say hello and meet me and stuff, which was really 
				overwhelming. But, this one lady, who will remain nameless, told 
				my mother, “You birthed a child of God, bless both of you.” And 
				while I'm learning how to say thank you to compliments, I was 
				utterly and literally speechless. My mother, however, said thank 
				you and bless you. Humility brings a genuine heartfelt response 
				from the people whose lives you have touched and impacted. You 
				never know how someone feels about you until they tell you. You 
				need to learn and master humility, and, yes, folk can tell when 
				you're faking it.
				
				My next problem, what to do with the gifts that God gave me. I 
				am a radical. I am controversial. I am also conservative in some 
				matters and liberal in others. I am a complex being. And I often 
				feel like I do not belong. There are times that I feel like I’m 
				ahead of the curve and that other times I lag behind. This is 
				not to say that I’m so great, but I see a desperate need to see 
				the people of God set free from bondage. We are in bondage to 
				our own mindset, our traditional values, our ceremonies and our 
				rituals. I am not interested in pomp and circumstance; I’m 
				interested in people. More specifically, I’m interested in 
				seeing God’s ministers take the risk of living and doing the 
				work of the ministry instead of imitating it. We've got a bunch 
				of imitators in pulpits who look like ministers, but have no 
				authority in the Word. No power in the belly, where they should 
				have rivers of living water. Are our wells dry? Do we not long 
				for an intimate relationship that flows with communication and 
				communion? Do we not want a wellspring that keeps on giving, 
				keeps on producing, keeps on challenging us to live holy?
				
				What do we want? Besides the popularity and the so-called 
				esteem? What do we want besides the new suits and possibility of 
				preaching revivals? What do we want besides teaching before big 
				crowds of people and being disappointed when the crowds don’t 
				come to see us? What do we want other than being able to walk 
				into Wal-Mart and be addressed by title by people we barely 
				know? What do we want aside from looking important and trying to 
				figure out ways to be important? Just what do we want?
				
				In our Baptist tradition, we often say we've been “called to 
				preach.” And a great many preachers struggle with the fact they 
				are less articulate than others or that they don't grapple with 
				larger precepts as well as others. The truth is, the saying, 
				“called to preach,” is a bit misleading. Preaching is only one 
				facet of what a minister does. A more accurate descriptor might 
				be that we have been “called to minister.” I know a lot of 
				ministers who rarely preach. And, sadly, I know a great many 
				preachers who almost never minister. Which is more important? 
				They both are. But the Bible clearly teaches us what we DO is at 
				least as important, if not more important, than what we SAY 
				[James 2:14-26]. Preachers who never minister, who never put 
				themselves on the front lines, run the risk of being seen as all 
				talk and no action. While ministers who toil in the field are 
				rarely, very rarely, invited into the pulpit because many 
				pastors never SEE them preaching and assume they're no good at 
				it.
				
				I can spend the rest of my life directing a choir and find 
				myself rarely invited into the pulpit, while I know many other 
				ministers who get prime time on a regular basis, but whom I 
				almost never see out in the field, in the prison, in the 
				hospital, on the street, in home Bible studies, on the web, in 
				Sunday School, at the ball game, at the birthday party, in the 
				middle of the night— on the front lines. The ministers I DO see 
				in these places I almost NEVER see in the pulpit. These men and 
				women are often overlooked because theirs is The Less Obvious 
				Ministry. The Quiet Ministry. The Less Flashy Ministry. While 
				the majority of main-line pulpit thumpers literally vanish 
				between Sunday afternoon and Saturday evening.
				
				Great, you’re called, but now what? What did God call you to? 
				Because everybody has a calling or ministry of some kind, you 
				have to know this. What did the Master say to you when He called 
				you? What is your mode of operation? What did you look like when 
				He showed you the vision of your ministry? And please don’t tell 
				me that you saw yourself on the world stage because before you 
				get to that stage, there’s still a season of reception and 
				preparation. You've got to go to the locker room to suit up 
				first.
				
				The people who go to the world stage have most likely been doing 
				ministry for years. Putting in their time, paying their dues, 
				struggling to get a Word from the Lord and trying to keep up 
				when He began speaking. And if you’re trying to be like these 
				warriors, they’ve had years of training and on the job 
				experience, years of trial and error, and years of trying the 
				spirit by the Spirit. They have developed a reputation for being 
				reliable enough to teach the Word and divide it rightly; and 
				even they make mistakes— some of them public.
				
Ladies and gentlemen, please take this calling seriously.
				It means the difference between life and death for someone. And 
				once you figure out whether or not you are called, then you can 
				begin to figure out whether or not you’re chosen. Being chosen 
				is more than being called. Being chosen implies a choice or, 
				better yet, a preference. It is not enough for me to be called, 
				I want to know that I’m chosen for a specific work in the Body 
				of Christ. I am after purpose and destiny. I want my 
				pre-determined purpose to collide with my reality so that I can 
				watch God work.
				
				The Bible is clear that, “He who began a good work in you, shall 
				perform it until the day of Jesus Christ.” I don’t work to be 
				seen. I don’t work to have my name called. I don’t work so I can 
				wave my hands in parade formation. I work because I am committed 
				to the commission to, “Go ye therefore, and teach all nations, 
				baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son, and of 
				the Holy Ghost.” And the good work that I have been called to 
				shall be performed over and over and over until Jesus Christ’s 
				return.
				
				I understand that I have been pre-selected, carefully picked out 
				and anointed for such a time as this. I may never make it to the 
				world stage, but I don’t have to. I’m not trying to be rich or 
				famous.
				
				But first, I still have to be accountable. To the God I serve, 
				to my pastor, to my assistant pastor, to my fellow ministers in 
				my church, to my congregation and to my community. I owe more 
				than another scandal and arrogance. I owe you prayer, I owe you 
				an encouraging word, I owe you hope and I owe you ethical and 
				moral standards. I am supposed to be a person you can look up 
				to.
				
				I still have to be responsible. I am to respond to your needs in 
				an appropriate time frame. If you ask me a question and I don’t 
				know the answer, I should tell you that. But I should also offer 
				to find out for you or, at best, offer to find out together 
				through searching the scriptures and prayer. I am to handle the 
				difficult matters in your life with the utmost care and 
				conviction and not gossip about you every chance I get. I should 
				never reveal or talk about your personal struggles without 
				talking to you first to get your permission and I should only be 
				talking about it with people who can help you through it.
				
				And lastly, I still have to be teachable. I should be able to 
				learn from you. Iron should sharpen iron. I don’t know 
				everything. You and I are in each other’s life for a reason and 
				a season. I should be able to learn something from you during 
				our time together. How ever many days, months, or even years 
				that might take. I want to be a better person because I met you 
				and had a relationship with you. I want the kind of relationship 
				where I can be Reverend in the sanctuary, but Neil in the coffee 
				shop. Ain’t it about time that ministers came down from the 
				pulpit to the pew and make a real difference in the lives of 
				people? I want to see you blessed. I want to see you delivered. 
				I want to see you set free. I want to see you live and walk in 
				victory everyday. I understand that you’ll make mistakes, so 
				will I. But, how can two walk together except they agree?
				
				The difference between being called and being chosen is purpose. 
				I’m doing my best every day to be sure that my calling and 
				election is sure. Not just for your benefit, but also for mine.
				Neil M. Brown
				6 December 2004
				
				holla@neilbrown.org
 
				
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