The Protestant Reformation revived one of the New Testament’s most powerful vocational ideas: the priesthood of all believers. While the medieval church had divided its members between those with religious vocations and those without, the Reformers emphasized that all Christians have a vocation by the virtue of their baptism. In such a world, how does a disciple of Jesus Christ determine the particular work through which to serve God? And what distinguishes full-time, professional ministry from other good and grace-mediating work? These questions can be maddening for young people with a wealth of talents, a broad range of opportunities, and a sense of God’s call in their lives. We ask them to consider their gifts and the needs of the world, but we seldom ask a core question of faith: What does the church need?

The Reformers argued from scripture that all of the saints are called to diakonia – to ministry. That is, all manner of work can contribute to God’s plan for the world, and thus the Reformers invested even the seemingly mundane tasks of life with profound religious significance. Martin Luther argued that even the executioner is fulfilling a vocation insofar as he is fulfilling his God-ordained station in life. He argued likewise for the priestly role of soldiers and kings. While notions of God-ordained stations leave little room for critiquing social injustice, they do support a broad range of daily labor as potentially fulfilling a calling. Bus drivers, teachers, police officers and cooks may all mediate the grace of God in the world, as can politicians, accountants and scientists.

But when one can fulfill his or her calling either inside or outside of institutional religious life, discerning that call can be more difficult. In the priesthood of all believers, the options for diakonia are greatly multiplied.

Through the fellowship programs at FTE, we have heard young people struggle with the options. A college student asks, “Should I become an engineer so I can help develop more effective water systems, or should I become a parish minister?” A newly-married couple prays to know whether to choose mission work or public school teaching. A Phi Beta Kappa graduate wrestles between medicine and theology. Another wavers between social work and pastoral care. At their best, local congregations, too, have raised these questions with young people and helped them discern good and faithful answers. Mindful of the many ways to live out one’s calling, we often encourage young people to look deeply within to discover their passions and abilities, believing that God’s intentions are revealed in the details of our inner lives. This mode of discernment has many expressions, from the banal and largely unhelpful “follow your bliss” to the more thoughtful recommendations of those like Parker Palmer and Howard Thurman who encourage their readers to listen for the inner teacher or the sound of the genuine in their lives. This deep and personal listening is an important aspect of discerning God’s intentions. Surely, God is calling us to that for which God has uniquely equipped us, both with passion and ability.

But others remind us that God’s concerns extend beyond our inner lives to the needs of the world around us. Frederick Buechner is perhaps the most famous voice for encouraging would-be disciples to seek their vocation in the space where inner world and outer world meet. In Buechner’s felicitous phrasing, the Christian should settle where the world’s deep hunger and her deep gladness meet. And again, this seems true and helpful. Surely God is calling us to where our lives most profoundly intersect with the world’s needs.

Yet there is a third consideration that is rarely invoked: what does the church need? In Ephesians 4:11-13 Paul writes that God has given gifts to some as apostles, to some as prophets, to some as evangelists. The essential purpose of these gifts, he says, is neither personal fulfillment for the individual nor attention to the world’s needs. Rather, God has given these gifts, summoned these individuals to work, in order to equip the saints for ministry, for building up the body of Christ until we all have come to the unity of the faith and the saving knowledge of Christ. We commonly invoke these verses in our congregations when we are seeking volunteers – but when an individual is struggling to determine how she will align her life and work with God’s call, are we as bold in presenting the needs of the church alongside the needs of the individual and the world?

H. Richard Neibuhr approached the difficult question of discerning one’s vocation by proposing a four-fold understanding of call ¹ . He spoke first of the fundamental call to Christian discipleship, our shared summons as baptized people to live in the way of Jesus Christ. He suggested that there is also a secret call, the deep moving of the Spirit in the mind and spirit of an individual made manifest in her preferences, yearnings and passions. There is then the providential call by which Niebuhr meant the gifts and graces bestowed by God for living out the secret call. Finally, there is the ecclesial call which is the authority – and responsibility – of the church, the company of the baptized, to summon the individual to employ his God-given passions and gifts for equipping the saints and building up the body of Christ.

Providing these four modes of call, Niebuhr marks off a perimeter within which one may find the answer to one’s own vocational questions. His formulation of call does not diminish the importance of listening for the sound of the genuine in one’s own life, nor does it discount the needs of the world. Instead, it organizes the succinct admonitions of Palmer, Thurman, Buechner and the Apostle Paul into a richer, multi-faceted and peculiarly Christian means of discerning one’s vocation. He also brackets the particular and unique experience of an individual disciple within the wisdom and authority of the community of faith, the body of Christ.

Despite these brackets, a disciple of Christ may still fulfill God’s call in many ways. That is, the area that Niebuhr circumscribes in his four-fold illumination of Christian vocation remains vast and the task of choosing remains difficult. But by offering us four distinct lamps of wisdom, he sharpens our sight and enlightens us for discernment, reminding us of the church as we answer that most personal but finally communal question: “What will I do with my life in light of my faith?”