What do I mean by “Incarnational?” There is a rich theological tradition, going back 2,000 years, that wrestled with the mystery of how Jesus Christ could be both fully divine and fully human; like the Father in all of his deity and like us in all of his humanity (except without any sin). Councils debated and argued over this, often fumbling around in the clumsiness of human language in an attempt to summarize what ultimately is a grand mystery. The mystery of the Incarnation is that Jesus was fully God and fully human. How exactly does that work? I don’t know and neither do you. One of the effects of that is: because of the Incarnational principle, chiefly and uniquely personified in Jesus Christ, we often can’t nail down “Was that a work of God or a work of people?” The most accurate answer often is “yes.”
I say all that to say this: firefighters often do their work somehow unaware of how much they are performing the work of God.
Firefighters might be unaware of this, but EMS patients and those rescued from calamity are very aware of if. The displaced family saved from a fully involved home at 2am is very aware of it. The people extricated from a crunched vehicle, stabilized and transported to the hospital are all very aware of it. This is because every call started with a prayer. Whether people vocalized it, or were even aware of it, when their emergency unfolded, they screamed deep inside their head “God, help me!” It was then that they had the wherewithal to dial 9-1-1. In response to that the call center personnel dispatched the apparatus and crew, but that was just the logistics of getting the prayer answered - the means by which God responded to the one in need - and those overjoyed by the arrival of the FD crew know it. I could always tell just from witnessing the response of those that called 9-1-1. It was obvious they’re thanking God in their heart for the responders that rolled up.
If indeed firefighters function as “the hands and feet of God,” as I first heard at Fate Fire Rescue, then I have found they can also function as “the voice of God” as well. How can this be? For those that “have ears to hear,” it can be loud and clear. I once rode with an engine crew responding to an elderly patient whose symptoms dictated she go to the hospital quickly. She had a grown son who was able to make the decision to “please, take her to the hospital,” but even without that, her symptoms and cognitive impairments were such that the paramedic could easily make that call as well. Thing is… between answering diagnostic questions, she’d insert “I’m not going to the hospital.”
The paramedic would respond, “Yes, ma’am. I understand that. Now could you place your feet on the floor for me?”
“Yes, honey. Here you go” (swings her feet off the bed onto the floor), “but I’m not going to the hospital.”
“Yes, ma’am. I understand. Now could you just come over here and sit on the stretcher?”
“Yes, dear” (sits down on the stretcher), “but I’m not going to the hospital.”
“Yes, ma’am. We’re just going to secure these straps for your comfort. Okay?”
She went to the hospital.
The son was grateful over the gentle and professional way that the paramedic compassionately ignored her objections. As we rode away on the engine, I was struck by how clearly the whole thing sounded like “God’s voice” as he often calls the reluctant to repentance or into service; how He compassionately ignores the objections of the reluctant sinner or servant.
We all know this person. They are the sinner who knows they need God’s forgiveness, but still struggles with an inappropriate sense of self-sufficiency. They are the worshiper trained for service, but whose life has gotten comfortable and doesn’t want any change. God calls, and they say “do I really need to answer right now?” The pursuit of God is a strange and formidable force. Is God’s grace irresistible? No. Sadly some of us can so commit to our own doom that, as a category of Divine judgment, we seemingly “get our way.” But for many of us, the resistance wasn’t all that firm, not completely rebellious, not fully committed to rejecting God’s “call.” We just don’t want the life change we know he’ll put us through. “I’m not going to the hospital,” we object. His response? “I hear you my child. I get that you’re scared. Now let’s get you strapped onto the stretcher, shall we.” Little by little we comply because his voice is so reassuring, so confident in what he’s doing, so authoritative in the moment, that we find our selves inexplicably complying. Next thing you know we’re already being transported, wondering what we were objecting to in the first place.
I had been a pastor before, but was committed never to make that my profession again. I’d be happy to volunteer myself as much as possible. I loved serving in the local church and especially serving a local fire department as chaplain. Call after call, however, department after department, year after year, I steadily could hear God say “pay attention, because you WILL be back at it leading people into the worship of Jesus Christ.” I’d object, citing past failures. I’d object, citing a growing career as an archaeologist. I’d even object, declaring my ministerial volunteerism as a “sufficient response to the call.” Laughably, how many volunteer firefighters have I known that dreamt of becoming full time? (*face palm*)
And… there was my most recent fire department of Seminole County, Florida. In my time with them I accompanied crews on well over 150 calls, was welcome at all 20 stations, rode every apparatus, and enjoyed more dinners with those crews than I can count. SCFD stood out as a particularly warm and welcoming department, and each night, each visit, each emergency I could spend time with them the “voice of God” just got louder and louder…
…and my objections sounded more and more pathetic.
“No God, I can’t do that. I’m settled in my community, love my firefighters, get recognition in my career, and already serve at my church.”
“Yes, my child. I get it. Now, could you place your feet on the floor for me?
Over and over vox Dei in igne (“the voice of God in fire”) compassionately ignored the objections, and I heard his call by means of engine and rescue crews being “the hand and feet of God” and also his voice as well. If I really wanted to avoid God’s voice, I could have done so more effectively by avoiding God’s work altogether; but that was never possible because I love the church and particularly love firefighters. Those in the fire service have the endearing quality of often being oblivious to how much they are used of God to answer the prayers of the desperate. It’s “Incarnational” in the sense that when someone asks “it is the work of God or the work of the FD crew?” the correct answer is “Yes, of course.” It is different, however, in that Jesus Christ, the Incarnate Word, was always very aware of what he was doing.
Objections overcome, call answered, obediently enroute to the scene, and my fire department is, in no small way, the reason for it. My advice? Stay away from the work of God if you want to avoid “the voice of God,” because he could very well be overcoming your objections by means of people unaware they’re strapping you onto the stretcher.
