Last week, I sat in a meeting with a group of leaders at Brite Divinity School. and we discussed strategy for a new initiative focused, in part, on helping students clarify what they hoped to get from seminary, and prepare them for what they would do after. Dr. Callid Keefe-Perry, whose recent writing on vocational discernment was shaping our work, explained that we often misunderstand discernment, because we mix it with calling. We have this understanding that, for those in religious work, vocational purpose should be a specific anointing, a thing that is offered to us from the outside, fully formed, and our work is just to hear it and follow the path set for us. He argued that while that can be true, it isn’t always, even for those in ministry. 

He explained that the word for discernment in our scriptures is closely related to the work of sifting, as in sifting the wheat from the chaff. Discernment, in its original context, is less of a listening for a single instruction, as much as it is the work of getting rid of all of the nos, the chaff, the dirt, so that all that is left is the yes. He explained,

“Discernment isn’t about listening for God to tell you what you’re supposed to do, it’s about saying no to everything until you find the thing you can’t say no to. Being left with the thing you can’t let go of, that’s discernment.”

Listening to Callid, I thought of all the rooms of pastors I’ve stood in. I thought of all the times I had asked about where they feel called and been met with so many ambiguous answers. I thought of so many times I had tried to get congregations to define the audience for their projects and they had said “everyone.” I thought of so many churches holding so many little things in their hands, a thousand glass balls of annual traditions, historic partnerships, and bell choirs, held so preciously that those holding them can’t possibly look up to see where they’re going. 

Discernment isn’t about finding a new ball to take on, it’s about finding out which one you can’t drop, no matter how hard you try. 

This is why sometimes some of the most mission-aligned work can happen in contexts where resources are scarce. If you have to make choices about who you are and why you are, a clarity can crystalize that never does when you have 40 programs a week. You likely already are doing the work your congregation is most called to, but it doesn’t get to be the fullest version of itself because you’re doing a lot of other things, too. 

This week, have some conversations about what you might sieve out in discernment, in your congregation, and in the rest of your life? What can we begin to say no to, in order to focus more clearly on our yes? In my congregational work, I think back to the early months of the Covid-19 pandemic, when all of the assumptions about what “had” to happen collapsed in on themselves. I think, too, about the months after my kids were born – when I didn’t sleep, had only moments to myself a day, what could I not let go of? What were the things that still happened, whether we made them happen or not? 

I think we have a temptation to say yes to everything because we worry we won’t be asked again, that this is the only chance we will have to do this or the other. And maybe it is, but that’s ok. If it is truly what you’re called to, if it is truly what God intends for you or your community, you won’t be able to miss it. Don’t be afraid of the sieve, of the no, of letting the door close. You will find something you can’t say no to, and when you do, you’ll be grateful to have your hands a little less full, so that you can fully grab on.