I remember it as if it were yesterday: September 30, 2001. I stood before the congregation of Jubilee United Methodist Church in Duncanville, Texas, and surrendered to the nudge. I stood before my church family and stepped out in faith to answer a call to serve The United Methodist Church as a clergyperson. I did not know then what that “yes” would require of me. I did not know where it would take me. I certainly did not know how much of my life would have to change. But I knew the wrestling was over. I had finally said yes.
Pastoral ministry was never on my life bingo card; Ever! I was working in Corporate America as an accountant, climbing the ladder and dreaming about becoming the CEO of a company or organization. I had goals. I had plans. I had a vision for my future, and none of it included seminary, ordination, or the appointment system of The United Methodist Church. Then came September 11, 2001. The events of that day caused me to pause in a way I had not paused before. In the midst of so much death, uncertainty, and grief, I began to wrestle with a question that would not leave me alone: “Is this all there is?” Was my purpose to climb the corporate ladder and improve the bottom line of a spreadsheet? Or was God inviting me into something more? At the same time, my pastor, the Rev. Dr. Lucretia Facen, began to affirm the gifts and graces she saw in me for pastoral ministry more frequently.
I was not having it. I was already serving God. I was a faithful layperson. I worked with children and youth. I served as president of our United Methodist Women. I was our Finance Chair. I was involved. I was committed. I was doing the work of ministry. Why did I need to become a pastor? I thought I had found the loophole. I could serve God without giving up my professional aspirations. I could remain a layperson and still make a difference. I could answer God's call without completely rearranging my life. But God has a sense of humor. I eventually responded to the call while working full-time, raising a child as a single mother, and continuing my leadership at Jubilee UMC. Not advised. But sometimes the call of God does not come at a convenient time. Sometimes the call interrupts our plans. Sometimes the call asks us to release the life we have carefully constructed for the life God is inviting us to live. And sometimes the hardest part of answering the call is admitting that we have been hearing it all along.
A Call to Ministry
This is one of many things I love about being United Methodist: we are a people who believe in call and not simply a call to ordained ministry, but a call to ministry. Our Book of Discipline says it plainly: “All Christians are called through their baptism to this ministry of servanthood in the world.” The ministry of the laity is not an afterthought or a lesser expression of ministry. It is part of who we are. John Wesley's movement depended upon laypeople. Class leaders, women/men/persons, were entrusted with the spiritual formation and care of others. Laypeople helped sustain the movement, nurture disciples, and carry ministry into places where ordained clergy could not always be present. In other words, we did not begin as a people waiting for the pastor to do the ministry.
We began as a people who understood that the ministry belongs to all of us. That may be something we need to reclaim. Because somewhere along the way, I wonder if we have become so focused on finding the next pastor, the next church leader, the next person to fill the vacancy that we have forgotten the deeper question, “Who is God calling?”
We often talk about the declining number of clergy, the number of pastors approaching retirement, and the challenges of recruiting people into ordained ministry, and those are real concerns. But the deeper issue is not simply that we have fewer people responding to the call, but perhaps we have not been calling forth the call. Perhaps we have stopped telling people that God might be calling them. Perhaps we have become so accustomed to looking for the person who already knows they are called that we have forgotten our responsibility to help people discover their call.
Think About Young People
I think about the young person sitting in our congregation who has a gift for organizing people. Or the teenager who can speak the truth with courage as I witnessed at the recent Young People’s Convocation in Dublin. Or the college student who cannot walk past injustice without asking what can be done. There are a host of others: the person who quietly sits beside the grieving, the teacher who sees possibility in every child, the business leader who believes faith should shape how we lead, the retiree whose wisdom could disciple another generation. The layperson who has spent years serving faithfully and has never once been asked, “Have you ever wondered what God might be calling you to do?” That question can change a life; I know it changed mine. And so, it begs the question, how many calls are sitting in our pews today that we have not yet recognized?
I would like to know, as a starting point, can we make the call visible again? What would it be to have a designated Sunday, across The United Methodist Church, or even a season, devoted to the theme of calling? And this is not simply a Sunday to recruit clergy, but a Sunday to tell stories. To share the stories of people who discovered their call to serve, organize, create, advocate, heal, mentor, lead, and love. Or even more momentous, what if our young people heard us say more often, “God may be calling you.”
What if every congregation had people intentionally serving as encouragers of call, people who could recognize gifts, listen to questions, share their own stories, and help someone take the next faithful step? What if our annual conferences created stronger pathways for people who are wondering, “Could God be calling me?” And what if, amid all our conversations about the future of The United Methodist Church, we made one thing unmistakably clear: there is a place for your gifts in God's mission.
God is still calling people, and this is bigger than clergy. For me, reclaiming the call is not about increasing the number of clergy. It is about becoming more faithful followers of Jesus Christ who understand that our calling is simply the holy work God has placed directly before us.
In 1 Corinthians 12:4-5, Paul reminds us that there are different gifts, but the same Spirit; different kinds of service, but the same Lord. This sounds a lot like Methodism to me, and maybe reclaiming the call means remembering who we have always been—a people who believe that God can use ordinary people for extraordinary purposes. A people who believe lay and clergy ministry are partners in God's mission. A people who understand that baptism is not merely something we receive; it is an invitation into a life of service. A people who believe the Holy Spirit is still moving, still nudging, still disturbing, still calling.
I know something about that nudge, and I tried to negotiate with it, to reason with it, and tried to convince myself that I could serve God without changing my plans. But on September 30, 2001, I stood before my congregation and said yes. More than two decades later, I am grateful that God loved me enough not to let me settle for the life I had planned when there was a life I had been called to live.
It may be time for us to reclaim the Call and stop assuming that people know they are called. That we would start intentionally asking, start noticing, start affirming, start encouraging, and begin making room. Maybe that is where reclaiming the call begins, with one person seeing another person and having the courage to say: “Have you ever considered that God may be calling you?”
I wonder what would happen if we became that kind of church again. What if we reclaimed the holy practice of helping one another discover where our gifts meet God's purposes? What if we remembered that the future of the church may already be sitting among us? We may discover that the call has not disappeared. Perhaps we have stopped listening for it.
It may be time to listen again. I offer that the call is still there. The question is whether we are willing to reclaim it.
Dr. Aleze Fulbright is a United Methodist clergyperson, pastor, teacher, writer, and leader committed to helping people discover their God-giveness. A lifelong believer in the power of both lay and clergy leadership, Rev. Dr. Fulbright writes from the conviction that the church is at its best when we courageously live into who God has called us to be and become.