Commencement 09 Sermon
May 12, 2009
"The Lord be with you!" [And also with you.]
To the Dean, the Very Rev. Douglas Travis, the Board, Faculty, and Staff of the Seminary of the Southwest, I extend my sincere appreciation for allowing me to be here today. But most of all, to you, the esteemed Class of 2009, I give great thanks for granting me the privilege of standing with you as you say goodbye to this holy place ... this place where you have learned and lived and struggled and celebrated. There will be special days ahead for each of you in your various ministries, but this day -- this last day together -- will not be repeated and, thus, this day is very special indeed. So, look back and remember all that has led to this day. Look back ... remember.
Again and again, the prophets called the people of God to look back, to bear witness to the ways in which God had been present among them. God called the people to remember: "Thus you shall say to the house of Jacob, and tell the Israelites: You have seen what I did...how I bore you up on eagles' wings." When they were at their most comfortable, or their most despairing, God called them to remember.
For both comfort and despair can be deadly to our souls. Both the security of the temple and the agony of the exile can threaten the peace, the joy, the life that God would have us embrace. And so the people of God were called time and time again to look back to their time in the wilderness, to remember how God would appear in surprising ways, wonderful ways during that seemingly endless journey.
What will you remember? When you run the risk of growing either too comfortable or too despairing in your life and ministry, what will you look back to in this part of your journey that will strengthen your spirit and renew your hope? Traveling with the Presiding Bishop, I often hear her begin a question and answer session with diocesan clergy -- a "conversation" as she prefers to call it -- by calling them all to remember the Gospel account of the baptism of Jesus, and their own baptism in Christ.
She invites them to take note of God's words to Jesus...and to us: "You are my beloved, with you I am well pleased." Not a bad thing to remember. "You are sealed by the Holy Spirit in baptism, and marked as Christ's own forever." Again, not a bad thing to remember. Whatever the form your ministry will take -- Lutheran or Episcopalian, lay or ordained, priest or teacher or counselor -- a lot of people you encounter in the years to come will have forgotten those words of God in the midst of life's storms. They will have forgotten how precious, how beloved they are; they will have forgotten that they are marked as Christ's own forever. They will have forgotten that God so loved the world, including them, that Jesus was given as Savior. Indeed, they will have forgotten the good and only be able to see the bad, the ugly. It will be your calling, it will be your responsibility, it will be your GIFT, to remind them to look back and remember, even as you remember.
I remember. I remember when I first heard the voice of God...well, almost. I was a very young acolyte serving at the 6:45 a.m. daily Eucharist, a service that only the most disciplined and devout would attend regularly ... meaning that it usually had six to eight folks, all seated in various spots throughout the two-hundred-and-fifty seat sanctuary.
Normally, they would hear the pastor, Fr. Lou, offer a few words of encouragement before going into the Communion, but on this one particular day, Fr. Lou had invited a visiting theologian to preach. And he preached, and preached, and preached, and preached. About thirty-two minutes into his five point sermon on sin and repentance, I suddenly heard it. Coming from above. The voice of God. And it was...snoring. Yes, I heard a voice from the heavens snoring, and I was astonished. I looked around at the tiny congregation and saw them looking up-the miracle was not for me alone! Then, suddenly it dawned on me. Perhaps this was not as miraculous as I thought. For earlier that week, the church's new remote microphones had finally arrived, and Fr. Lou was wearing one, and sure enough, he had not turned it off. He was...deep in meditation. Okay, he was snoring. Loud. In fact, he was beginning to snore and snort, and his body was starting to lean to the left, like a human Tower of Pisa. It was becoming embarrassing. Everyone was noticing now, at least almost everyone. Our scholarly preacher was just wrapping up point three of his exposition and ready to move on to point four. Finally, knowing what I had to do, I mustered all the courage my youthful body had, asked the Lord's forgiveness, and jabbed Fr. Lou in the ribs, abruptly waking him. Startled, he stood and boldly proclaimed, "We believe in one God!" Never have I witnessed a more exuberant recital of the Creed as the faithful joined Fr. Lou.
I learned several things that day. For one thing, I learned that I had better not go on too long in this commencement address! More importantly, I learned that what we remember stays with us, becomes a part of us. Whether he knew it or not, it was Fr. Lou, and not the learned theologian, who gave the sermon that has stayed with me. For when he was not even fully alert, the words he said were the words he had remembered, the words that were a part of him: "We believe in one God." Yes, we do. You and I don't have to live our lives in worry and anxiety as if everything ultimately depends on us.
There are moments like what you are about to experience -- when you are handed that degree that you have worked so hard to earn -- when you feel very proud, and so you should! There will be for each of you many other great moments of accomplishment, of achievement, in the days to come. There will be other moments too, when you don't feel quite so impressive. People will praise you and speak highly of you, and people will hurt you and gossip about you. There will be times when you will rise gloriously to the occasion, and times when you will trip up at the most inopportune moments. In all this, we are to bear a cross on our shoulder, not our feelings on our sleeve. Indeed, to "deny ourselves" means that while we take our ministry seriously, we will never take ourselves too seriously. In this way, as Henri Nouwen puts it, "somehow our successes and failures slowly lose their power over us."
Some of you have heard me share how in my first post-seminary assignment, one day I walked into the office looking particularly weary, as if the weight of the world was on my shoulders. My assistant, who was not above a touch of sarcasm, took one look at me and said, "I hadn't heard the news." "What news?" was my irritable response. "The news that God resigned and you've been named the replacement." I have some very good news for you. God has not resigned. We believe in one God, and it is not us. Even as we take up our cross, like Simon of Cyrene we recognize that it really is not meant for us alone. We are not the Savior.
So cherish this proud day, a day well deserved after all you have done, after all your successes and failures on the journey thus far. But also look back, remember that deeper, more profound truth: You are not God and don't have to try to be. What you are is God's beloved. Look back, remember.
Look back...but at the same time face front! For the same God who began a good work in you is about to do a new thing! "Do not look to former things," the prophet declared, "for I am about to do a new thing, says the LORD." We all know that it is this "new thing" that makes today a true commencement.
For even as you say goodbye to this phase of life, you also set your gaze toward adventures yet unknown, undiscovered, unseen. Here again, there is good news: we believe in one God "of all that is, seen and unseen." God who creates possibilities where previously we could not see any. God who redeems seemingly irredeemable situations. God who is the giver of life, abundant life. A significant part of my work now, and really always has been what I call "bridge-building." The more scriptural term for it might be "the ministry of reconciliation." It is work that demands not certainty, but a willingness to let go of one's own infallibility, even if for a moment. It is work that requires listening to others, not simply listening in order to find a good place to jump in and give the last word, but really listening.
The Scripture says, "Be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to anger." How difficult this is, and yet make no mistake, whatever your ministry will be, wherever God's work leads you, that listening, that bridge-building is part and parcel of that work. I saw this at Lambeth last summer, and I have seen it in various and vary different parts of The Episcopal Church as I travel. Indeed, in one place, I was asked to open a lunch meeting with grace over the meal, only to have someone under their breath say, "That is, if he knows how to pray." How easy it is build walls, how hard it is to let go of our own need to be in God's position, let go of our own infallibility, and listen. I chose not to respond to that offhand remark and instead prayed in the precious name of Jesus our Savior.
And then I invited us to share our stories with one another: exploring the ways in which God had become real in each of our lives. After several hours together, that one person quietly said, "You know, I may not agree with you on everything -- I know I don't, in fact -- but I don't dis-trust you as I did before." Possibilities previously unseen, seemingly irredeemable situations becoming redeemable in Christ.
I have often said to people that God wants us to be "spiritual detectives," looking for God's footsteps, God's fingerprints, clues of God's presence in all the difficult situations that confront us. In the "canon" of Sherlock Holmes stories, the great detective was asked by Dr. Watson why it was that both of them saw the very same thing, and yet only Holmes was able to deduce fantastic things as a result. The detective's answer was brief and to the point: "You see, but you do not observe...and that makes all the difference."
We must face front and keenly observe the evidence of God at work about us, in places and people where we do not necessarily expect to find such evidence. It will always be our choice whether we try to call down fire from heaven to consume those with whom we disagree or disapprove, or dare to listen and look and observe where God is at work.
Archbishop Tait, convener of the second Lambeth Conference, in 1875, said, "I think it would be a work of love in which we should be engaged-the extension of Christ's Kingdom -- and that we may be able by friendly intercourse to strengthen each other's hands." We can only engage in such a work, engage in friendly intercourse, if we first intentionally choose to be "slow to speak, slow to anger, quick to listen." Listen, observe, face front.
And give thanks. Give thanks for what God has done so far, for what you have experienced in all your life. But especially this day, give thanks for this place and your place in it. I still recall the first time I visited this campus, explored the library, walked down to the pizza place, saw the cross beckoning outside the window of the chapel. Give thanks for this place, for Seminary of the Southwest...and for LSPS.
But as I always told people who visited a historic church in which I served as rector, "Yes, it's a great place, but the people are even better." So give thanks for this faculty and staff who have been with you for this year, two years, three years. What have they meant in your life? How has God touched you, taught you, through them? If you have not done so already, take time in the hectic days ahead to write a note of specific thanks for those who have had made an indelible difference in your life. Don't assume they already know. Write them. Tell them, Thank them.
And what about you yourselves, the Class of 2009? We are all of us so very thankful to God for you, both for what you have already meant to so many, and for what is yet to come in and through you? Give thanks for each other.
I recently went back to my seminary alma mater for a gathering with several of my former classmates. We shared stories of very different directions, of twists and turns we could never have imagined. But most of al we laughed and chatted and just enjoyed one another. At the end of the evening, one person commented, "Why did we let so much time pass before reminding ourselves how much we liked each other?" You are gifts to one another. In a few minutes you will hear the name of each of you read out loud as you go forward to receive that diploma or degree that is waiting for you.
But I would like to conclude this address by reading aloud each of your names, and invite everyone to say out loud in words or phrases what it is you are thankful for in that person. Say it all out loud, all at once. Then we will go to the next person. Follow my lead, give thanks for one another. [READ INDIVIDUAL NAMES: "What are you thankful for in _____?" THEN: "Repeat after me, "_____, you are God's beloved."]
[AT THE END OF ALL THE NAMES] You, all of you, are not God, you are God's beloved. You are to be spiritual detectives, looking for the hand of God at work all around you. Look back. Face front. Give thanks. Amen.
Seminary of the Southwest
Diploma in Anglican Studies
Matthew R. Boulter
Lera Patrick Tyler
Diploma in Theological Studies
John Peter Fabre
Kermit Johnson – in absentia
Nazir Masih
Master of Arts in Religion
Ashley Kelly Brandon
Freda Marie S. Brown
Master of Arts in Pastoral Ministry
Susan Joann Nyland Alexander
Br. David Luke Henton, BSG
Sarah Frances Miller
Liza Williams Philpy
Kay Heffler Pieringer
Sandra Zellers
Master of Arts in Chaplaincy and Pastoral Care
Barbara Kay Rusling
Master of Arts in Counseling
Cindi Leveridge
Elizabeth Fleming Powell
Master of Divinity
Gena Lynn Davis
Douglas N. Lasiter Jr.
Everett Cooper Lees
Jeffrey J. Martinhauk
Lisa Pichinson Mason
Patricia Gayle McCarty
Julie Lynn O’Brien
Patricia Reardon Riggins
Roxanne Ruggles
Billy Tweedie
Lutheran Seminary Program in the Southwest
Certificate of Theological Education for Emerging Ministries
Aura Violeta Erickson
Linda J. Mosley
José Angel Sustaita
José R. Valenzuela – in absentia
Master of Divinity
Melvin Quetulio Antonio
Toby James Burk – in absentia
Jake Fain – in absentia
William Mark Moore
Ryan Jeffrey Pederson
Nancy Minette Simpson
