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May 05, 2008

Beth Foote - May 5, 2008

The Rev. Beth Foote; Acts 1: 6-14; Psalm 68:1-10,33-36; 1st Peter 4:12-24, 5:6-11; John 17: 1-11

The Ascension. Faster than a speeding bullet, leaping clouds in a single bound…Up in the sky, it’s a bird, it’s a plane, it’s….Jesus?

The Ascension has always been a mystery to me, as I’m sure it was to the apostles. I can imagine them saying, “but wait!” Everything seemed to be coming together: Jesus had risen from the dead. He revealed himself to them on the Road to Emmaus, and in the breaking of the bread, to Thomas, and then there was the breakfast on the beach. Then up on the Mount of Olives, they ask him, “Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?” I can imagine them thinking, maybe it was all going to make sense now.

Jesus replies, “It is not for you to know the times or periods that the Father has set by his own authority. But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem…” And then he ascends. And they are left with a question mark.

I can hear them saying, “but wait a minute!” Now we’ve seen it all! And he leaves us here…and as usual, we don’t know what he means.

At that moment, the apostles enter into in what I recognize, somewhat painfully, as transitional time and space. They have lived through so much, and given it their all, and now, they don’t know what’s next. They don’t know that Pentecost is coming right up for them. They just know they are where they are, The Upper Room.

Transitional time. There’s also transitional space. Have you ever noticed that we don’t have narthex or lobby here in our sanctuary? It makes for strange Feng Shui in here. We walk directly from the social space of the courtyard into the sacred space of the church with no transitional space to get ready for worship. Last week I took the Godly Play storyteller training, and we learned about creating sacred space in the classroom and how to prepare the children to be “ready” for hearing the story. Adults need that, too. Transitional space creates a place where people can get ready for encountering the sacred.

A transitional time and space. That is, in fact, where we are as a parish. Betwixt and between rectors. We need to ponder what has happened, to grieve for whatever we need to grieve for, and it will be different for each one of us. We will need to determine who we are as a parish now that we have been changed and enriched by Father Mike’s ministry, before we can move on to the next stage.

Like the apostles, I think we would rather be zooming ahead to the next chapter, and the new, rather than be in this in between place.

Because it is rather uncomfortable to be in this transitional space.
I know something about this transitional thing myself, since I have been in the transitional time and space of the ordination process in the Diocese of California or 4 plus years. There are many steps to being ordained a priest. It’s a whole labyrinth of its own. I’m going to digress a bit here to fill you in a little on how it works.

It all starts with a call to ordained ministry, that then needs to be conveyed to your community. You begin the ordination process as an aspirant and must receive the sponsorship of your parish. Then you enter into a long series of interviews and assessments by the Commission on Ministry and the Bishop of your diocese, and others. And you do a three year graduate degree in Divinity at a seminary. The progression is, you become a postulant, then a candidate, then you’re ordained a deacon, then a priest. You must be at each one of those stages for at least six months, and each one has its special steps. My favorite was the three day psychological exam. (I was relieved to know that I am certifiably sane.)

For me, the step between postulancy and candidacy was the sticky one. I bombed my candidacy interview with the Commission on Ministry. I was so nervous being interviewed by twelve people at once that I completely clammed up. They said that I should come back in six months. I disagreed; I thought I was ready to move on. But now I think they were right.

It was a difficult time for me, and it happened the week before I started my position here at Trinity. I had done everything I was supposed to do…got the good grades, did hospital chaplaincy for 10 weeks, and then look what happened. I felt over my head. Angry. And stuck.

The reading from 1st Peter reading for today describes well how I felt then, it felt like a “fiery ordeal…a testing …something strange was happening.”

The 1st Peter reading has relevancy to our situation at Trinity Parish, too. We are in that transitional space. We are being tested by this strange thing that has happened to us. It’s almost unprecedented that a rector dies in office in their first year at a parish. Extraordinary. It takes time to absorb something like that and make meaning out of it. It takes transitional time and space.

Let’s go back to the narthex for a minute. Maybe it’s a coincidence that we don’t have one and then again, maybe it isn’t. This place was built in 1950, a time when there was great confidence in modernity and reason; and new things were best. And part of that ethos was that we could throw out traditional things that were old-fashioned and mystical. That meant it was ok to skimp on that transitional space of a narthex. The absence of a narthex says to me that those in charge thought the sacred was easily accessible. Just walk right into it. Find your pew. At that moment in time, 1950, the world of progress had such momentum, moving forward as fast as possible “made sense”, and this absence of a narthex speaks to that, moment, I think.

I think we’re not so different from those folks. Like those at Trinity Parish in 1950, we in 2008 are do-ers and like to keep things moving. It’s daunting to think of being in the in between stage again. Is it really necessary? Isn’t it old-fashioned and churchy? Let’s march right in and do what needs to be done. I’ve been having those thoughts myself.

Well, I’ve come to realize that transitional space and time is not wasted space. It’s essential. It’s a time to learn, reflect, and grow. It’s a gift. My rocky patch in the ordination process made me dig deeper and accept my vulnerability in answering my call. By doing the work of ministry here with you I better understood my call. And, my second candidacy interview was a home run. I also learned it’s best to be in a transitional space with others together as a community of real people linked together by God’s love.

And that is what we see in our Acts reading as well. Here they are, the original parish, the apostles and the women, huddled together after Jesus ascends. What are they doing in the Upper Room? They were “constantly devoting themselves to prayer.”

As I was writing this sermon, I received my email newsletter from the Episcopal News Service, and it had a blurb for a new book called “The First to Follow” by John R. Claypool. I quote it because it seemed to arrive at just the right time.

“One of the first things that Jesus did in his ministry was to reach out to twelve individuals and draw them into a circle of close companionship with him. This series is about those twelve apostles, their relationships with Jesus and with each other, and what the dynamics of that community can teach us…Jesus did not wait for people to be perfect in order to call them into the circle of God's love. As we look at those that Jesus called, and consider ourselves as part of that enlarging circle, we gain not only a deeper sense of our own reality, but also a deeper sense of how Christ would like to work with us.”

“An expanding circle. Those Jesus selected… Jesus did not wait for people to be perfect in order to call them into the circle of God’s love and a deeper sense of how Christ would like to work with us.” In this transitional time it is good to remember that none of us is perfect and God calls to us in our brokenness, where we are today, to call us into the circle, into God’s service.

We are part of that expanding circle. We have all been called here. As many of us found out yesterday at the National Brain Tumor Walk, we are Team Trinity.
In the last few months, as uncomfortable as they have been for me with Father Mike’s illness, I have come to understand that I’ve been personally called to be here at Trinity for some reason. It’s mysterious but true.

On Monday I met with Bishop Marc in his office at Grace Cathedral, and we had a wonderful conversation. I realized it was the last step in the transitional time called the ordination process. Afterwards, I walked through the cathedral by myself and imagined how it will be to be ordained there. I imagined all of you there. And so many other people, from Christ Church, and other parts of my life. I felt God’s love manifest in all those relationships. It was a little overwhelming. I had a good cry. I realized I was moving forward into a new phase of life and ministry.

And Trinity will, too.

In the last two weeks I’ve been reminded by clergy friends all over the diocese that so many of our sister parishes are praying for us, and have been for many months. We are not in the Upper Room alone. The whole diocese is praying with us in this sacred, transitional space, in this uncomfortable Upper Room. And good things will come to us in God’s time. Christ wants to work with us. The Holy Spirit is coming. Amen.

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