Many are Called but Few are Chosen

This is a sneaky one. It’s so sneaky, it’s quite possible (and entirely factual) that I’ve avoided letting it sink in until a quarter past yesterday o’clock.

The evangelical presentation of the Bible frames the narrative of any moment this way: Things may look bad now, but God will take care of those He has chosen.

Why did He choose these people? With Adam and Eve, He made them. He (maybe?) chose Abel because his sacrifice had blood in it (although it turned out to be Cain who took care of him . . . You want a blood sacrifice? I got your blood sacrifice right here). He chose Noah because he wasn’t an evil freak like the entire rest of the world. He chose not Ham because he disrespected his father. He chose Abram because . . . why not? He chose Isaac because his dad was willing to kill him. He chose Jacob because Esau and Isaac were too hungry to stop him from stealing their birthright/blessing respectively . . . or because He loved Jacob and hated Esau, deal with it, suckas.

He chose Joseph because he was dreamy. (But seriously, why did God choose Joseph? He just did.) Regardless, all of Jacob’s sons were effectively chosen. He chose Moses for some reason. It worked out, sort of. He chose Joshua because he was the best candidate. (It was seriously like God said, No, this part of the story is important, I need someone competent for this role, and Joshua’s kind of a stud. No more messing around with quirky little insecure dudes. Congratulations, Joshua, you’ve got the job.)

He chose judges who could lead at the appropriate time. He chose Saul because he was the popular choice then chose David because he reminded Him of Him. and it was just nepotism from there on out until that ship ran itself into the ground. He chose prophets at random. He chose the courageous who would stand up for him even when they were all alone among enemies.

He chose Mary because she was awesome (Joseph was just along for the ride). He chose Jesus because nepotism. He chose shepherds and wise men to greet Jesus. Jesus chose fishermen and accountants and hotheads. He chose tax collectors, the poor, a prostitute, a Roman Centurion, the poor, the outcasts, a thief, a doubter, and one of His very own persecutors to lead the way while He was gone.

There were no hard and fast rules to being chosen, but some trends do emerge, especially if you really want to see them. Sometimes He chose the faithful. Sometimes He chose people in trouble. Sometimes He chose the least likely. A few times He chose the best. Sometimes He chose the oldest child, other times He chose the youngest child, and one time He chose His own kid/Himself. Ultimately, God just chose who He chose. People tend to see themselves in those choices.

And then, ultimately, the self-proclaimed chosen see themselves as the ones in trouble, the faithful, the children of God, and simultaneously the least likely and best choices.

And when you’re the chosen, it will all work out in the end, no matter what. Except . . . the Bible isn’t a story of everything working out or getting better. the Bible, as a whole, is about everything working out someday but not yet. When you see the Bible as an anthology of smaller stories that tend to work out great in the end (which is how we tend to pick stories to focus on) you assume the larger story will undoubtedly have a happy conclusion, as will every smaller tale of God’s various chosen people along the way to the grand finale.

We tend to think in the back (or way in the front) of our minds that everything is going to work out no matter what. Maybe we should work hard because God demands it. Maybe we should trust in God to take care of us. How will we know which one? When God wants you to know, you’ll know.

And this is the disastrous companion philosophy: When you feel certain of something, that is the voice of God telling you you’re right.

So how does this play out in our lives? Well, when you’re part of a persecuted people or when you’re in a hopeless situation over which you have no control, this notion is your hope. It is your strength. It is, quite possibly, the only thing keeping you going through otherwise impossible conditions. That is anything but bad. That is a miracle. That is the essence of what is best in us, right?

But when life has conspired to make your life very easy and your choices foolproof (Editor’s note: I’m talking about me here) constantly thinking everything is going to work out no matter what and believing that confidence and certainty, when they come, are divinely appointed padlocks on your beliefs? Kid, that’s going to end poorly for somebody and probably everybody.

Believing some unseen force is going to make everything work out well especially for me is a loaded gun without a safety. That scenario will work out very poorly for a lot of people, but it will be a long time before we choose to see it let alone accept it as reality. I’m telling you this now as someone finally opening my eyes to how much it has continued to drive the way I look at life’s problems even nearly 15 years after I gave up believing. There’s no way this won’t work out and There’s no way that I’m wrong are two very real and very instrumental thoughts that have lived in my head my entire life.

Let me tell you, you get really frustrated at the people who don’t cooperate with your line of thinking, especially when you think the creator of the universe or the universe itself have endorsed both you and the hill you’ve chosen to die on.

Editor’s note: I’m talking about other people starting . . . now. But for those people whose heart of hearts grasp on to that loaded-gun worldview that God has chosen them, everything will work out fine, and their confidence is evidence of God’s approval AND everything is still working out great for them AND somehow they still feel like they’re being persecuted and everyone who doesn’t see it their way is out to defeat both them and God?

Trust me when I say this is a literally lethal combination of feelings and beliefs. But it doesn’t happen to monsters. It happens to anyone who has been taught or programmed or simply not carefully prevented from thinking all those things are true without recognizing the relative ease and privilege and foolproof nature of their foolish lives.

I don’t really know how to end these things, because I typically wind up feeling pretty raw by this point and because I don’t really know that there’s a tidy little knot to secure the loose ends with. I guess I’ll just say that I do believe things can work out but we have to work for them. If the universe or anyone in it intends for you to succeed, that intent manifests in your will, your wisdom, and your wits. I’ll have to use all of that to make things better.

You and I might not be in control of everything, but there’s a lot we can do to make this life a great one . . . and there’s no harm in believing we’re not alone.