Ordinary, Extraordinary

Not wanting to belabor just how ordinary I am (I doth protest too much, no doubt), but I'm not done.  Earlier this week, we finished the BBC Jane Eyre (1983).  There is a scene near the end of the story where the indomitable St. John is attempting to persuade Jane to join him on the mission field of India as his wife.  Not for love, but for service.  While the movie is superb, the book is sublime and highly recommended.  This from chapter 34 which was included almost verbatim in the movie:

"Jane, I go in six weeks; I have taken my berth in an East Indiaman which sails on the 20th of June."

"God will protect you; for you have undertaken His work," I answered.

"Yes," said he, "there is my glory and joy. I am the servant of an infallible Master. I am not going out under human guidance, subject to the defective laws and erring control of my feeble fellow-worms: my king, my lawgiver, my captain, is the All-perfect. It seems strange to me that all round me do not burn to enlist under the same banner,--to join in the same enterprise."

"All have not your powers, and it would be folly for the feeble to wish to march with the strong."

"I do not speak to the feeble, or think of them: I address only such as are worthy of the work, and competent to accomplish it."

"Those are few in number, and difficult to discover."

"You say truly; but when found, it is right to stir them up--to urge and exhort them to the effort--to show them what their gifts are, and why they were given--to speak Heaven's message in their ear,--to offer them, direct from God, a place in the ranks of His chosen."

"If they are really qualified for the task, will not their own hearts be the first to inform them of it?"

I felt as if an awful charm was framing round and gathering over me: I trembled to hear some fatal word spoken which would at once declare and rivet the spell.

"And what does YOUR heart say?" demanded St. John.

"My heart is mute,--my heart is mute," I answered, struck and thrilled.

I cannot count all the times I have heard similar messages in my years within the Church.  Though often stirred by such appeals, there has never been a time where I felt that my own heart was receiving a call to trek to some distant land as a messenger of Good News.  

And subsequently feeling, of course, that I was a substandard Christian for not having the slightest desire to leave the comforts of America for a foreign culture.

When it comes to the missions call, my heart is mute.  Some would say that the need exists is call enough.  Yet, I know within the bounds of my own neighborhood are as many untouched by the Truth in Scripture as any thousands of miles away.  God will reveal in His own time whether I have deceived myself out of fear or if truly the call is a unique, personal, and fit for only a few...

Ordinary Me

The concept of ‘finding oneself’ is, I suppose, plausible enough for someone so deluged by expectations of who they 'ought' to be in their formative years that they arrive at adulthood hopelessly muddled.  I, on the other hand, am well past my formative years and have had sufficient time to distinguish between the ‘me’ I am and the ‘me’ others see.  And there is the rub.  Having “found” myself quite some time ago, I have not fully accepted what I teach my children: that God made me who I am.  On purpose.  For a purpose.  An astounding number of 'Christian' books in the 'self-help' genre fill the 'Spirituality' section of Barnes & Noble.  My suspicion is that most are consumed by people who, like myself, have discovered 'me' and want to be 'not me'.  Perhaps not entirely transformed, but certainly, like plastic surgery, we yearn for a nip there and a tuck here in our personhood to make us more and less of who we are.  

I need here to distinguish between character and personality.  Character is what I do to abide by timeless moral principles, personality is how I reflect the inclinations and aptitudes that are somewhat hardwired, somewhat shaped by experience.  It is admirable to seek to improve character, a task that is never finished.  On the other hand, to try to remake a sparrow into an eagle is an exercise in despair.

My personality is marked by introversion, brooding thoughts, a preference for solitude to crowds, procrastination, a dread of meeting strangers, and can endure long conversations with only a very, very few choice people.  (You know who you are).  I would rather read than do just about anything else.  I enjoy my day job, which consists primarily of determining how to make data flowing through the circuitry of our corporate information systems more accurate and timely.  It is an enterprise both profoundly perplexing and profoundly dull to many and I have long since given up trying to explain exactly what it is I do to earn my bread.

So, is this all that God intended when He was assembling me, this ordinary life?  Because in the bulk of my experience as a Christian, I have given lots of lip service to the idea that God's love is not based on what I do, while at the same time admiring the spiritual achievements of others and feeling that 'ordinary' just doesn't measure up.  I want to be numbered with the wise, mighty and noble, rather than the foolish, weak, and lowly.

This dilemma was captured well in a recent World Magazine article.  Given the response to the article, I am relieved to find that I am not the only ordinary person in Christendom.