The World Needs People Who Are Alive

My son, Javi, is a high school senior and now applying for colleges. He is still in the early stages, dreaming and imagining himself on a career path on which he might earn a good living and contribute something meaningful to the world.  

The other day, in a moment of excitement, he sent me a text message that read, “Dad, I think I figured out what I want to do in life.”  

I thought to myself, “Oh, this is going to be good.”  

“Dad… I want to be an ethical hacker.”

I paused for a second: “What has this kid gotten into?” I looked it up, and it turns out there are people who get paid to break into company systems to test the integrity of their security.  

I thought to myself, “There will always be a market for that.”  

I must confess I felt a little jealous. Javi is in a beautiful, wide-open season of potential and possibility. He is experiencing that feeling of saying, “When I grow up, I want to be…”

He is face-to-face with the age-old question of purpose: What is mine to do in the world?  

Over the years, I have found that questions of vocation are not imperatives but invitations. In the Gospels, Christ often guides people through questions rather than commands: “What do you want me to do for you?,” “Who do you say that I am?,” or “What are you looking for?”

Discernment of questions such as these becomes part of the contemplative journey. Discernment is a kind of spiritual attunement in which we learn to tune our lives to the frequency of God’s work that is already unfolding in the world.  

Howard Thurman—a scholar, mystic, and pastor—once gave advice to someone wrestling with the intersection between purpose and calling. Thurman said, “Don’t ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive and do that, because what the world needs is people who have come alive.” [1]

When the world feels fractured, our instinct is often to ask what must be repaired. Yet the contemplative tradition asks a quieter question first: How do we tend the fractures of the world with the medicine of our own delight? Some do it through the power of art and music. Some, like renowned Chef José Andrés, do it through their love of food and cooking, delivering millions of meals to people in crisis through the work of World Central Kitchen.  

Listening to the gentle voice of vocation, we can find our footing in a world in which we often feel helpless. The healing of the world does not always require large-scale action. Sometimes it shows up as small-scale faithfulness, connected to the soul’s deepest yearning.  

As Frederich Buechner once reminded us, “The place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.” [2]

There may be no greater satisfaction than discovering that our work can participate in God’s work in the world.  

Even now, as Javi prepares for college and wonders about majors and careers, he still comes to me and says, “Dad, I think I know what I want to do.”  

And I tell him the same thing every time. If it makes you come alive, go and do that.  

The world does not just need more solutions.

It needs more people who are alive.  

 Rev. José Humphreys III is a leadership consultant, writer, founder of Mosaic Collaborative, and a board member of the Center for Action and Contemplation.

The Center for Action and Contemplation’s mission is to introduce Christian contemplative wisdom and practices that support transformation and inspire loving action. In this issue of the Mendicant, we are honored to share with you articles from five members of CAC’s community about what loving action looks like in their lives.

References:

[1] Howard Thurman, quoted in Gil Bailie, Violence Unveiled: Humanity at the Crossroads (Crossroads Publishing, 1995), xv.

[2] Frederick Buechner, Wishful Thinking: A Theological ABC (Harper & Row, 1973), 95.