The Call and Insecurity

	Fr. Roger Vermalen Karban

The readings for Sunday, February 24, 2002, the Second Sunday of Lent, are Genesis 12:1-4a, II Timothy 1:8b-10, Matthew 17:1-9.

All biblical calls are rooted in Abraham’s call in today’s first reading. This passage is from the Yahwistic document, the oldest of the four ancient sources the redactor employed to construct Scripture’s first five books. It’s been part of our deposit of faith for 3,000 years.

Though we usually concentrate on Yahweh’s promises of a country and a blessing, it’s important to notice that the Yahwistic author begins the narrative with God’s command, “Go forth from the land of your kinsfolk and your father’s house to a land that I will show you!” and ends the pericope with the remark, “Abram went as Yahweh directed him.”

Biblical calls always revolve around movement: exchanging a position of security for a place of insecurity, not even knowing the final destination when the journey starts. The only guarantee the recipients of such calls are given is the conviction that God is with them as they make their way down the road God points out.

My Roman Catholic religion offers me terrific security. Not only do I belong to the true church, but the hierarchical structure the church developed through the centuries guarantees me salvation — as long as I obey its every command. As a child I asked one of my teachers, “Do I have to do whatever the priest tells me, even if I think it’s wrong?” Her answer provided eternal security. “Yes! If it’s wrong he’ll go to hell or purgatory, not you!”

Even when we seminarians were trying to discern if we had a call to celibate, priestly ministry, our spiritual directors assured us, “If your bishop gives you a formal call to priesthood you can be certain God’s calling you.”

We never find this kind of faith-security in Scripture. There, only God calls and only God offers security. There are no “middle-men.”

Father John McKenzie wrote a Critic magazine column thirty years ago entitled, “Obedience, Substitute for Virtue.” In it the late Scripture scholar explored the consequences of trading the insecurity which comes from obeying God’s call for the security which comes from obeying the representatives of a church structure. He reminded his readers that all followers of Jesus are continually called to travel down the virtuous road of “love and compassion.” He asked, “Can it ever be Christian morality to support a way of life in which love and compassion become disposable virtues?”

The author of II Timothy encourages his readers to explore this road of virtue when he writes, “Bear your share of hardship for the Gospel with the strength that comes from God. He saved us and called us to a holy life . . . .”

In the same way, Matthew’s transfiguration narrative only makes sense if we pay close attention to the last line. “Tell this vision to no one,” Jesus charges his disciples, “until the Son of Man has been raised from the dead.”

The insights which Matthew puts into words in this passage must be a constant in every Christian’s mind. Throughout our lives, we trust that our faith will one day transform us. Yet, our resurrection will take place only if we join Jesus in dying by offering love and compassion to all around us.
In the midst of our church’s present hierarchical structure, and our obedience to every dictate of that structure, Jesus is still calling us to place our security in him. He’s calling us to step onto the insecure, dying path of loving those who step into our lives.

Perhaps we should spend much more time wrestling with Jesus’ personal call to us than we do wrestling with church structures. After all, the authors of our Christian Scriptures assure us that, at the pearly gates, our response to that call will be the only thing on which Jesus will examine us.