Emphasis Preaching Journal

I had just turned 10 years old when I knew the Lord had called me to be a preacher. The event is clear in my mind this very moment. It was at the noon hour. I had walked home from school for lunch and was now walking back. I saw no signs in the bright sky, I heard no voices calling my name. But quite suddenly, stamped upon my consciousness was the phrase, "You are called to preach the Gospel of Jesus Christ." It was just as real as a red-inked rubber-stamped "First Class" imprint across an envelope prepared for mailing. I knew then and there what my life's calling was. It was a tender moment for this 10-year-old boy. My mind reacted with, "Called to Preach! And I'm not even SAVED yet!" Those words conformed to what I then understood about theology. I said them to myself as a whisper one or two times; then I said them out loud right there walking along Second Street near Gilson's house in Marine City, Michigan. "Called to preach ...! Called to preach ..." There was no fear, no confusion, just assurance and certainty. After 49 years of parish ministry, that call is stronger and clearer than the great liturgical celebration in St. Paul's Cathedral, Detroit when, years later, Bishop Emrich laid hands upon me. With all love and respect for the ordination liturgy and for the bishop, the word "called" continues its priority over everything else. -- Hoornstra