Who am I, and what am I doing?

“I hurried to the gate, made my way on to the plane, stowed my luggage, and sat down next to Mother Teresa! I smiled and made eye contact. She politely said, ‘So, who are you? And what do you do in this world that matters?’”
The keynote speaker who told this amazing story continued.
“I wanted to answer that I’m somebody who does things that really matter, and I do those things well. But I wasn't convinced my goals, successes, and education were at the depth of Mother Teresa’s questions.”
On the surface, these questions are easy to me. I’m a pastor who has three degrees in higher theological education. I teach on the seminary level as well as work full time in admissions. I’m the husband of a talented and skilled mental health professional who spends her days being a change agent for the homeless community, and I’m a father to the best baby in the world.
But I’m also more than that.
I’m someone who fears failing. I’m someone who hates letting other people down, and I loathe the parts of myself that are lazy. I’m someone who wishes I had more time to myself as well as more time with my family. I care too much about insignificant sporting events and dwell too long on what other people think of me.
When I’m my best self, I’m someone who helps others navigate the liminal space between the mundane and the sacred. When I’m my worst self, I’m someone who embroiders the truth just enough to please the room.
I’m stuck between the surface and the deeper, more intimate answers to Mother Teresa’s questions.
We’re people who need a place to stand; a reason to feel whole; a hope that surpasses understanding. But instead of taking the time to reflect on the shadow sides of our soul, we answer Mother Teresa’s first question by deferring to her second one: “I am what I do.”
What we do with our time, money, and energy to help move the world forward matters. Since our days make up our years, what we do day-to-day to effect change, create beauty, and empower hope is worth thinking about. We should be people who reflect deeply on this question, but not to the point that it answers the question, “Who am I?”
Richard Rohr said that 90% of the world lives 90% of their lives on a conveyor belt. We define our lives by what we do, and it becomes so repetitious that we stop reflecting in a meaningful way on who we really are.
When we answer “Who am I?” with “Here’s what I do,” we’re saying our careers and hobbies define us. We become people who “do” some things.
We find it uncomfortable to strip away our accomplishments to see ourselves for who we really are, but isn’t it worth doing? Do we really want 90% of our life to go by without knowing ourselves the way God knows us? Isn’t that why Mother Teresa asked her questions the way she did?
Who are you? And what do you do in this world that matters? We need to realize the power behind both of these questions and create meaningful space to reflect on each.
---
This post originally was published by ABPnews Blog on June 19, 2014. 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Most Difficult Parable Ever

Image
Theologian N.T. Wright finds the parable of the fig tree to be quite strange.  He says, “Jesus' warning in Luke 13 is at once amplified by this almost humorous, yet in fact quite sinister, parable of the fig tree in the vineyard.” And it is sinister.  It’s a hard pill to take.  Jesus' parable goes like this: A man has as fig tree planted in his vineyard.  One day he comes out looking for fruit on it, but there are no figs.  He says to the vineyard keeper, “Look at this tree.  For three years, I've come hoping to find some fresh figs, but what do I find? Nothing.  So just go ahead and cut it down.  Why waste the space with a fruitless tree?” The vineyard keeper replies, “Give it another chance, sir.  Give me one more years working with it.  I’ll cultivate the soil and heap on some manure to fertilize it.  If it surprises us and bears fruit next year, that will be great, but if not, then we’ll cut it down.”  (Luke 13:5-9, The Voice) But how is it sinister?
Read more

The Bird of Dawning Singeth All Night Long

Image
This Christmas I was moved by the words of Frederick Buechner.  For my last blog of the year I offer to you his wisdom rather than my own ramblings.  I hope it does for you what it continues to do for me. Frederick Buechner says in his book The Faces of Jesus: On the dark bulwark of Elsinore, Shakespeare has Marcellus and Haratio reflecting on Christ in the opening scene of Hamlet: Some say that ever ‘gainst that season comes Wherein our Savior’s birth is celebrated, The bird of dawning singeth all night long; And then, they say, no spirit dare stir abroad, The nights are wholesome, then no planets strike, No fairly takes, nor witch hath power to charm, So hallowed and so gracious is the time These lines from the first scene of Hamlet in a sense say it all.  We tend to think time is just progression . . . as moment following moment, day following day, in relentless flow, the kind of time a clock or calendar measures.  But we experience time als
Read more

All Good Things Must Come to an End

Image
In the late 1300s Geoffrey Chaucer coined the phrase, “All good things must come to an end.” This phrase means more to me right now than it ever has before. This week is my last week as pastor at Union Baptist Church in Pine Mountain, Georgia. Out of all my accomplishments, opportunities, and memories, pastoring UBC has been one of, if not, the best. For three years I have traveled alongside this community of grace through celebrations such as birthday parties, weddings, worship services, homecomings, Fall Festivals, baptisms, and so much more. I have also traveled alongside more sincere moments of pain, tragedy, and anguish; for I have counseled families through deaths, hardships, work-related problems, spirit-related inquiries, sadness, depression, anger, surgeries, confusion, and even wonderment. Collectively, these shared stories, these real and emotionally significant memories, have shaped who I am and how I see myself in the world. This decision to leave UBC do
Read more