Qualifications

Recently, the process of trying to find a job has gotten me thinking about what qualifications I actually have as I've attempted to list them in my resumé. I've realized that there are some real, concrete things about me that qualify me to do certain jobs and not others. When it comes to doing God's work, though, I often feel so unqualified. I can't really understand why it is that God would want to have me even attempt to serve him, given my great propensity for messing things up. Too often, the person doing ministry one minute is off ignoring God's voice in some sinful pattern the next and then thinking "surely if the people in charge/people that I minister to knew how I really am, they wouldn't let me serve them... surely there's someone more qualified." If I can't even hold my own life together, how am I supposed to make an impact on my city? my church? my family?

I guess you could call that kind of feeling desperation.

Here's what I mean: in order for my life to avoid crumbling into chaos, despair and failure, I am constantly in need of God's miraculous intervention. He has to hold it together, not me, because I can't. That may sound like kind of a downer, but the funny thing about it, I'm coming to see, is that this is exactly how God wants us to feel. I think he's constantly leading us to a place of desperation for him, whether we like it or not. And just so you know I'm not making this up, check out the book of 2 Corinthians: the whole thing is about this! Paul is trying to give us this doctrine of desperation throughout this whole letter. Some highlights:

1:8-9--"We were under great pressure, far beyond our ability to endure, so that we despaired even of life. Indeed, in our hearts we felt the sentence of death. But this happened that we might not rely on ourselves but on God, who raises the dead."

I find it very comforting that the greatest missionary in history despaired of life at some points along the way. Even he needed to learn not to rely on himself. Now, I'm not saying that the hardships of my life are comparable to Paul's, but this is still so cool: God uses our hardships to free us from the burden we put on ourselves of having to make everything work out all the time. That's his job, and he can handle it. He does, after all, raise the dead.

3:4-6--"Such confidence as this is ours through Christ before God. Not that we are competent in ourselves to claim anything for ourselves, but our competence comes from God. He has made us competent as ministers of a new covenant."

Simply put, God qualifies us to do his work. Not anything about us or our quantifiable job skills or gifts. God is not about resumés. The only reason we get to do his ministry is because he says so. This also frees us from having to worry what people think about it. God said it, so we do it, whether we feel qualified for it or not. Another point about that: we have no business questioning God's call on us. We might not understand why he has chosen us, but it's really none of our business. We don't earn it. I can't say that enough times.

4:7--"But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us."

A crucial point: being desperate for God relieves us of any glory that might come as we follow him. What we do is only a result of his power, and we are just broken, dirty vessels. It's a good thing we don't have to carry the glory, because we can't handle it. It goes straight to our heads and we forget our place all too easily. Our overwhelming imperfections, though, make it obvious that God is the only one who accomplishes anything. As Isaiah said, "all that we have accomplished you have done for us" (Isaiah 26:12).

12:9--"But he [God] said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness"

These words of God to Paul really sum up the whole thing: God uses our brokenness to highlight his power. Therefore, we actually get stronger by making ourselves weaker and relying on God's power. As Paul is forced to conclude, "when I am weak, then I am strong." (12:10).

The challenge, then, is learning to rest in the knowledge that we aren't perfect and never will be in this life. We can choose to be depressed about this, or we can choose to minimize ourselves and rely on God to give us good and perfect gifts and to be strong through us. This strength is the kind we need to change a broken city, not whatever pitiful power we can muster up on our own. He qualifies us to do it, and who can argue with God? I don't know why he would choose me out of the many options, I just know he did. I'll finish with a poem I wrote about that and about learning to rest at God's feet despite everything else, being weak but relying on his strength. So enjoy, and also check out the "poem of the day" from the Library of Congress newly added over on the right--I told you more poetry was coming! I also know it's risky putting my poems in such close proximity to those of the masters: please don't compare the two, just enjoy each one for what it's worth. Here's mine:



One Among Many


Under a tolling fog,
in the speckled mist,
answer the question soaking you
gently as you are unaware
who is calling—

Dampening wind
reaching around umbrellas, under hoods
slanted in momentary hesitation
pointing in one direction,
soon forsaking stillness—

Listen through the footsteps,
over the engines; wait
alone in the reverberation
of small voices fading
for the one who asks—

Hear what you can,
see only what you cannot,
and there on the hill
inside the fog
rest.