You know that moment at work when the boss needs someone for an important project? Everyone straightens up, trying to look competent and available. The veterans showcase their experience. The eager ones volunteer before hearing the details. Meanwhile, someone’s in the supply closet, organizing inventory, completely unaware there’s even a meeting. Yet sometimes that’s exactly who gets chosen—not for their ambition but for their quiet faithfulness.
Today’s scripture shows God working this same way. Samuel arrives at Jesse’s house to anoint Israel’s next king, and Jesse presents seven impressive sons. Each one looks perfect—tall, strong, qualified. But God keeps saying no. The youngest, David, isn’t even invited inside. He’s doing what nobody else wanted—watching sheep. While his brothers practiced looking royal, David practiced being faithful. Today, we discover that divine calling often comes to those too busy serving to apply for the position.
Today launches our new worship series, “Called to More,” exploring how God transforms ordinary lives for extraordinary purpose. For six weeks, we’ll meet biblical figures whose stories mirror our own questions: Does God still speak? Am I qualified? What if I fail? From David’s fields to Solomon’s temple, from Elijah’s exhaustion to Jeremiah’s exile letters, these ancient voices address our modern struggles with purpose and calling. Last week’s scripture reminded us of God’s faithfulness; today we discover how that faithful God calls unlikely people. Whether you’re exploring faith for the first time or have followed Jesus for decades, these stories reveal God’s consistent pattern: calling comes where we least expect it.
Imagine a corporate executive who spent twenty years climbing the ladder, measuring worth in quarterly profits and annual bonuses. When downsizing eliminated his position, he reluctantly volunteered at a community food pantry—mainly to avoid gaps on his résumé. “One week,” he promised the overwhelmed director who desperately needed help organizing their chaotic inventory system.
His business instincts engaged immediately. Spreadsheets replaced guesswork. Systems eliminated waste. Efficiency doubled within weeks. But something shifted as he worked. The numbers became names. The statistics grew faces—the veteran apologizing for needing help, the young family stretching between paychecks, the grandmother raising grandchildren alone.
His moment of transformation came when that veteran, tears flowing, explained how the pantry’s improved efficiency meant his grandchildren could eat that week. “I spent decades developing skills for stockholder reports,” the executive later reflected. “But God was actually preparing me to multiply loaves and fishes.” He eventually accepted a nonprofit position at half his former salary, discovering that his “wasted” corporate years were actually God’s training program for feeding communities. Purpose had been preparing in the background all along.
That executive’s discovery mirrors our scripture’s revelation about divine calling. In Bethlehem, Samuel arrives carrying holy oil and secret instructions to anoint Israel’s future king. Jesse’s family undergoes ritual purification, sensing history unfolding. The prophet expects to find leadership among Jesse’s accomplished sons—those with presence, experience, the look of royalty.
But God overturns every assumption. Seven qualified sons stand rejected before Samuel. Then God speaks the passage’s central truth: “Humans see only what is visible to the eyes, but the Lord sees into the heart.” This transcends physical appearance—it challenges our entire evaluation system. We measure degrees, connections, experience. God measures something deeper: capacity for faithfulness capacity, willingness to trust, hearts oriented toward divine purposes.
David isn’t even present initially. While brothers audition for greatness, he tends sheep—the youngest son’s burden, the job keeping him from important gatherings. Yet these very fields become his seminary. Wrestling predators teaches courage. Leading stubborn sheep develops patience. Solitary nights under stars nurture prayer.
When David finally appears—described as “reddish brown, had beautiful eyes, and was good-looking”—the text notes his appearance only after God has already chosen him. Those “beautiful eyes” perhaps reflected the soul God had already seen, the heart prepared through humble service. God simply declares, “That’s the one.” The anointing brings immediate transformation: “The Lord’s spirit came over David from that point forward.” Notice this sequence—calling precedes qualification. The Spirit doesn’t wait for David to earn or achieve readiness. Throughout scripture this pattern continues: Moses the stutterer becomes liberator; Mary the teenager bears the Messiah; Paul the persecutor becomes apostle. God consistently calls the unlikely, then provides what’s needed.
This pattern of unexpected calling anchors Methodist theology. John Wesley, our tradition’s founder, taught that God’s prevenient grace works in our lives long before we recognize it—preparing us through ordinary experiences for extraordinary service. David’s years with sheep weren’t delay but divine preparation, illustrating how grace operates ahead of our awareness.
Wesley emphasized that baptism calls every Christian to ministry—not just clergy but all believers participating in God’s redemptive mission. He distinguished between the general call to all Christians loving and serving and particular calls with specific gifts for specific ministries. Both carry equal value in God’s kingdom.
Our Methodist understanding celebrates “practical divinity”—finding God in daily life and growing holy through active service. You don’t wait for certainty before serving; you discover your calling by serving. This creates beautiful balance: ordained clergy equip the church for ministry, while lay people embody that ministry in neighborhoods, workplaces, and communities. Like David’s fields becoming his training ground, our ordinary contexts prepare us for kingdom work we cannot yet imagine.
Here in McPherson, we sometimes understand being overlooked—we’re not Kansas’s largest city, yet our impact ripples far and wide. Our colleges transforms lives, our industries innovate globally, our churches serve quietly but powerfully. Perhaps we can particularly grasp how God uses the unexpected. From Central Christian College to the Grant Sports complex, from McPherson College to the 81 Bypass, you’ll meet people God is calling in ways that might surprise them.
Some sense stirring toward professional ministry—that persistent pull toward pastoral work, chaplaincy, or missions that won’t leave them alone. Excitement mingles with terror. Questions multiply: How will I support my family? Am I holy enough? These doubts accompany virtually every vocational call, from Moses at the burning bush to you considering seminary.
Others hear God’s call to volunteer ministries that sustain church life. Without those who teach children, maintain facilities, lead music, serve communion, visit shut-ins, or balance budgets, our church simply wouldn’t exist. That nudge toward youth ministry, that administrative gift, that heart for hospitality—these aren’t secondary callings but essential ministries. When you prepare communion bread, you’re not “just helping out”—you’re making Christ’s presence possible at the table. When you change light bulbs in the hallway, you’re literally helping people see.
Still others discover calling through their daily work. The mechanic who fixes cars at cost for struggling families, the teacher advocating for overlooked students, the business owner hiring those needing second chances—each participates in God’s kingdom through their profession. Your workplace skills aren’t separate from spiritual service; they’re instruments of grace.
Doubts are normal, not disqualifying. God’s calls rarely arrive with lightning-bolt clarity but through gradual recognition, community confirmation, and faithful small steps into uncertainty.
The good news is that God’s call always comes with God’s equipping. When the Spirit rushed upon David, it wasn’t momentary blessing but permanent presence “from that point forward.” This same Spirit accompanies everyone who responds to divine calling, whether to pulpit ministry or essential volunteer service that makes all ministry possible.
God works through your willingness more than your ability. Those experiences that seem unrelated to ministry—your professional training, your personal struggles, your everyday routines—become exactly what God uses. The farmer’s problem-solving enriches building maintenance. The parent’s patience blesses children’s ministry. The recovering person’s story becomes someone else’s lifeline. You don’t need transformation into someone else; you need recognition of how God has already been preparing you.
Finding your place in God’s work brings profound satisfaction despite inevitable challenges. Whether you’re preaching sermons or preparing fellowship meals, leading children, mentoring youth or mowing the church lawn, you participate in something eternal. Every single gift matters—the church literally cannot function without each contribution.
Your imperfections and inadequacies don’t disqualify you from calling; they qualify you for grace. God’s pattern throughout history shows divine preference for the unlikely, the overlooked, the ordinary. Saying yes to God’s call opens doors to growth you cannot imagine, community you didn’t expect, and participation in divine love actively transforming the world.
This week, consider listening for God’s call through with one of these these specific invitations:
Start each morning asking: “God, how are you calling me to serve today?” Then notice where needs and your abilities intersect.
Try one volunteer opportunity: greet at next Sunday’s service, help with Thursday’s STEPMC meal, assist with children’s Sunday school, or join a church workday. Experience often clarifies calling more than contemplation.
If sensing vocational ministry calling, let’s talk about the United Methodist candidacy process and connect you with others exploring similar calls.
God delights in your willingness and will illuminate your path forward.
Today we’ve discovered that God’s call comes to the unexpected, the ordinary, the overlooked. Like David among sheep, like that executive discovering purpose beyond profit, like you in your daily context—God sees potential where others see routine. The Spirit that rushed upon a shepherd boy still moves today, transforming ordinary people for extraordinary purpose. Whether called to professional ministry or to volunteer service making ministry possible, you have a unique, irreplaceable place in God’s transforming work. The call no one expected might be yours.
Will you pray with me?
God who sees hearts, help us recognize your calling in ordinary moments. Give us courage to say yes, trusting you to equip us for service. Amen.
In crafting today’s sermon, I employed AI assistants like Claude and Apple Intelligence, yet the ultimate responsibility for its content rests with me. These tools offered valuable perspectives, but the most influential sermon preparation hinges on biblical study, theological insight, personal reflection, and divine guidance. I see AI as a supportive aid to enrich the sermon process while ensuring my own voice in proclaiming the Word of God.
Rev. Andrew Conard 