Heeding the call to unity

by Jamie Sladkey Meehan

Text: Ephesians 4:1-16

When I was a kid I was certain that I was going to be one of two things when I grew up. I was either going to be a pontoon pilot, because I liked boats and planes, or a pediatric cardiologist, because I liked kids and I thought that hearts were cool. I did not accomplish either of these goals. When we are young the question of what we want to be is constantly being asked of us. I remember feeling pressure to know that answer, and even doubling down on my conviction that I would one day be a cardiologist, even though my strengths didn’t necessarily align with what it takes to become one. As I grew older I began to feel the pull to different things. In college in particular I felt what I now understand to have been a call into ministry.

One defining conversation for me came when I spoke with the executive director at Covenant Point Bible Camp, Erik Strom, as to whether or not I should intern at camp. I remember thinking that the question of what I was going to do for the next year was a huge and weighty, life-changing question. In some ways I was asking him to choose for me. He affirmed my gifts but would not make the decision for me. He told me that sometimes God gives us “just enough light to see the step ahead of us.”

That conversation fundamentally changed how I understood call and vocation. It took the pressure off of “forever” and turned it into “right now.” Life has handed me many “right now callings,” including the time that I took in seminary, in ministry at churches, in my current calling to be a mom to my two kids, and even the pull “right now” to preach today.

Ephesians 4:1 has been a favorite verse of mine: “As a prisoner for the Lord, then, I urge you to live a life worthy of the calling you have received.” This is a high standard. Beyond the expectation to live up to the life God has for us, this verse is a turning point in the book of Ephesians. The first three chapters can be said to exist up here in the head. They are more theologically based. But Ephesians 4:1 represents a turn outward. Paul is taking these ideas from the head to the hands. This movement brings us from what we should know and be to what we should do and how we should do it.

Imagine that what Paul has been talking about up until now consists of the call that you have received, and now, we are being instructed to live our lives accordingly. Luckily Paul gives some instruction. I like the way that the Common English Bible phrases it: “Conduct yourselves with all humility, gentleness, and patience, accept each other with love, and make an effort to preserve the unity of the Spirit with the peace that ties you together.”

This isn’t a long list, and it may be easy to look at these five things and feel that there is a pattern of meekness to these words. Humility is to not put yourself above others. Gentleness and patience and accepting with love all feel like very calming commands. All of these are great, and I am fully on board with these things. But the last one — make an effort to preserve the unity — may not be as easy to lump in alongside the others. Anyone who has ever sat on a church council knows that preserving unity can often not be a gentle or calming process.

That may be why the rest of this call to action leans so heavily into describing what unity looks like, because we cannot understand it in just a word. Paul writes that we are one body, one spirit, one hope that we have one Lord, one faith, one baptism, and one God and Father. There is an expanse of oneness and commonality that binds us together, but he recognizes that in our unity we do not have a singular calling. What God is asking of each of us looks different from person to person. Verse 11 describes some as apostles, prophets, evangelists, pastors, and teachers. I don’t see this list as the extent of options for callings, but as examples for ways that people could be called and the ways that we do not all have the same giftedness. My call is not yours, and yours is not your neighbor’s, but the differences are what fill out the body of Christ. The different strengths coming together create something stronger than if all people had the same strength.

When I was growing up, one of the most devastating sentences my siblings and I could hear from my dad was “I’m disappointed in you.” This usually came after we did something irresponsible or harmful for ourselves or others. It was not pulled out very often — not because my siblings and I were perfect, but because he didn’t overuse it. One of the reasons it was so tough to hear is because my dad had high expectations of us. He believed in us and thought that we were capable of being the best people that we could. The expectation was usually in line with who he knew us to be. He encouraged my brother in cooking, me in music and sports, and helped my sister grow in her abilities to teach. He encouraged us with goals and helped us see how we could achieve our best.

My dad didn’t just reserve this encouragement for us, he also extended this to his teaching high school math, his coaching, and his involvement with Fellowship of Christian Athletes, which my siblings and I all participated in. One of the best examples was when he would bring high schoolers from FCA on a week-long bike trip around Illinois, Wisconsin, and sometimes even Michigan. The group would ride about 60 miles each day, either camping or staying in churches or people’s homes along the way.

On these trips, my dad did a lot of the planning. He planned the route, talked with churches, and coordinated volunteers, but he also used this trip as an opportunity to help students grow. Every student had a job to do. Some planned meals, some were in charge of the route for the day — this was before phones, so we would have a printed Mapquest map tied to our bikes. A student was in charge of making the T-shirts, coordinating training rides, someone would be in charge of music, and all of the students would give a devotional at some point during the week. For the week, we had adults around, but ultimately it was the students’ trip, and we were responsible for our areas. If we failed or something fell through, it was on us teenagers to work to figure it out. Of course, my dad didn’t put too much on the teens; he had safety things covered and had policies in place so we would never get to a point of catastrophic failure. Yet for the most part, the students led the trip. The coolest thing was that the students lived up to these expectations.

This chapter of Ephesians reminds me of those trips because we were each given a call for that week. We had our jobs and our roles, and we needed to work together in order to make it happen. A lot was expected of us, and we lived into our call. These bike trips were not without falls, breakdowns in communication, or even getting lost, but leaning on one another and pursuing unity together helped us to get through a week that was quite grueling.

Every student on those trips had their “right now” call. Their step was to be faithful to the moment. What might your “right now” call be? In regards to your church, where are there needs to be fulfilled? Do you have a gift that you want to use, but don’t know how it might fit? Is there a relationship that needs repairing or a person who needs care?

The restoration of unity will not only happen because the church is patient and gentle. This restoration happens when we, the people of the church, live fully into the calling God puts on our lives every single day. Because without even one of us, we are not whole. You matter, and your call matters.

May God reveal enough light for us to see the step ahead of us that we may understand our call right now on our lives. May God help us live into that call, giving us the strength and understanding to use our gifts to live in unity with one another. May God forgive us when we inevitably do not, and guide us as we work to become one body for you. In Jesus’ name, Amen.