The doctrine of vocation and calling

This is one of those doctrines that the Reformed love and I haven’t intentionally poked the Reformed culture for a couple of days. On the surface this docttrine seems pretty innocuous and hard to argue with. Who isn’t for glorifying God in all that we do? Is that what the net result and motivation for this doctrine really is? This is from Tullian Tchividjian’s latest blog post for the Gospel Coalition, Our Calling, Our Spheres:

For church leaders, this means that we make a huge mistake when we define a person’s “call” in terms of participation inside the church—nursery work, Sunday school teacher, youth worker, music leader, and so on. We need to help our people see that their calling is much bigger than how much time they put into church matters. By reducing the notion of calling to the exercise of spiritual gifts inside the church, we fail to help our people see that calling involves everything we are and everything we do—both inside and, more importantly, outside the church.

I am all for that. Our calling as Christians is far more than what we do on Sunday mornings, In fact we are called to a whole life ministry without division between “church life” and “regular life”. What is interesting is that Tullian then says at the end of the essay:

Therefore, God calls preachers and church leaders to disciple and direct people inside the church to understand just how effective they can be outside the church when they understand their calling in terms of everyone, in everything, and everywhere.

So apparently we define “preachers and church leaders” in their calling by what they do inside of the church but everyone else based on what they do outside of the church. Doesn’t that seem contradictory? In other words, there is a special ministerial calling based on functions within the church and then the general calling of everyone else. I thought that the calling of pastors and elders was to equip all Christian believers to mature ministry (Eph 4: 11-16). Hmmmm.

If by the doctrine of vocation we mean that all Christians should honor and glorify Christ in whatever we do, at work and at home, then I say amen to that! But then there is this:

Outwardly there may be no discernible difference between a non-Christian’s work and that of a Christian. A transformational approach to culture doesn’t mean every human activity practiced by a Christian (designing computers, repairing cars, selling insurance, or driving a bus) must be obviously and externally different from the same activities practiced by non-Christians.

Rather, the difference is found in the motive, goal, and standard. John Frame writes, “The Christian seeks to change his tires to the glory of God and the non-Christian does not. But that’s a difference that couldn’t be captured in a photograph.”

So Christian vocation and ministry for most people is quite possibly invisible to the naked eye? We just do a good job and do so quietly. How are we a city on a hill, a living witness to the world when we are undiscernibly different from everyone else except that we go to church on Sunday? Oddly enough, that is the opposite of what vocational ministers like Tullian do, where your “calling” is quite visible and obvious. His ministry and that of other ministers is defined by their functioning: preaching, teaching, leading, visiting. Why do some people get called to a visible, overt ministry and the vast majority toil away in relative anonymity?

I fear that this doctrine is designed to tell Christians that if you aren’t “called” to ministry, you should content yourself with being a good Christian at the factory or the office and leave the “real” ministry to those who are “called” to do so. If this doctrine is designed to divide Christians into two groups, 1) those called to ministry and 2) those called to work regular jobs, I find it troubling and extra-biblical. It seems apparent in Scripture that all Christians are called to minister and proclaim the Gospel and it also seems that the poster boy for Christian ministry (i.e. Paul) worked a regular vocational job (tent-making) and didn’t rely on funding from the church and yet he somehow managed to effectively minister. Would Tullian tell Paul to be content with being a tentmaker?

I find the whole thing somewhat distasteful. Don’t get uppity Mr. Layman. Just be a good Christian shoemaker and show up to church with a tenth of your wages. That is what God is calling you to do. Of course he is calling me to something different based on my seminary degree and ability to deliver a sermon but you should stick to shoes.

The whole “vocation” thing has troubled me for some time and strikes me as a way to perpetuate the clergy-laity distinction. It is possible that I am being hyper-sensitive to this whole issue. Perhaps I am misinterpreting the doctrine of vocation. What do you think?