Saturday, May 6, 2017

"Senior Sermon:" Friday after Easter 3, Year A, 2017

Introduction

Every year, graduating students at Virginia Theological Seminary are given the opportunity to preach during a Eucharistic service, held every weekday in the seminary's chapel. This was the result of my opportunity to do so.

The readings of the day were from Acts and the Gospel According to John.

Sermon


     In today’s passage from Acts, Paul and Ananias both receive a call from God. They are called to do something entirely unexpected. They were both very wrong in the assumptions they made about others. They were called to take risks which they were completely unprepared to make. Paul thought he knew what he was doing and was convinced he did it for the right reasons. Ananias was convinced he knew Paul. They were both confident in their own knowledge and their own self-sufficiency.

     This piece of Paul’s journey makes me think of a situation I encountered in Myanmar this past January. Of course, it was not as dramatic as Paul being “blinded by the light.” But it was challenging – and enlightening – in its own way.

     Our group was privileged to participate in several conferences and visit several seminaries in different regions and dioceses during our stay Myanmar. Often, we met with a small group of locals with the help of a translator. Sometimes, we were with another member of the Virginia Seminary contingent; and sometimes, we were alone. Sometimes we chose the discussion topics; other times, our hosts did. The discussion where I received my unexpected challenge took place at a seminary. As the only senior on this immersion, I was paired with a group of students preparing to graduate in a few weeks. In Myanmar, school runs on a different schedule, with the typical academic year ending in March – so, these seminarians were not unlike some of us seniors right now! My hosts wanted to know more about seminary and church life in the United States. We talked some about clergy roles and expectations. Then, a serious-looking young man with a concerned expression spoke. He was coming to the end of his studies, about to move into the world of ministry, the world of caring for real people. He felt ill-prepared. “He would like you to speak a word of encouragement to him,” the translator said.

     Now I was the one who was caught unprepared! And I'm going to be completely honest with you. The first thought which came into my mind at that moment was: Crap. More than once, I was grateful for the translation time, which gave me an extra moment to think, perhaps even to pray. I prayed a short prayer at that moment. I encouraged him to rely on more experienced priests and mentors, as I plan to do. I also encouraged him to pray. When we encounter situations which we don’t know how to respond, we can rely on the wisdom of Jesus when our own wisdom fails. I admitted my prayer life is not as disciplined or as deep as I would like it to be. And I admitted that in spite of years of preparation I, too, felt unprepared. Sometimes, it felt like I was the only one who felt that way. But now, he was not alone – and neither was I.

     In some ways, even though I am only a few pages and a few days from earning a Masters’ in Divinity, I still feel totally unprepared. The more I learn, the more I realize I have that much more to learn. And I don’t like being unprepared! I was a Girl Scout for nine years, and I still live by the “be prepared” motto. But, like Paul and Ananias, I’ve come to understand that sometimes, despite my best efforts, my knowledge will fall far short of what’s needed. And when it does, it’s not my job to be prepared. Sometimes, it’s my job to show up, be fully present, and allow God to work through me. For the priest is not the bread of life. Jesus is. My prayer for you and me is that we will allow ourselves to be sustained by that most sacred Bread, and that through us, others will find that very Bread. 

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