Dr. Mark L. Taylor, Director of Worship at the School of Theology and Ministry, offered this meditative reflection to our graduating students yesterday at our Liturgy of Celebration. I found it very provocative, especially as I heard it not only in the context of the graduating students, but in my own congregational context of being in transition between pastors. Aren't we all in places of "in-between" in our lives? Enjoy the reflection.
Pondering what it means to Wait
Here we are amid one of the stranger weeks in the Western Christian year--between the Ascension of Jesus and Pentecost: after the risen Christ has departed and before the Holy Spirit has come newly clothed in wind and fire. Time out of time, almost. But perhaps this week of waiting discloses something deeply true about the other fifty-one weeks in our year. I invite you to meditate a little on this in between time.
From the Acts of the Apostles:
After his passion, Jesus presented himself alive to them by many convincing proofs, appearing to them during forty days and speaking about the reign of God. On one occasion, he told them not to leave Jerusalem, but to wait there for the promise of God. “You will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, throughout Judea and Samaria, and even to the ends of the earth.” When he had said this, as they were watching, he was lifted up, and a cloud took him out of their sight.
Do you find yourself in between and waiting this afternoon? How do you find yourself waiting and in between? I mean really, in the real stuff of your life? I think especially of you graduating students. For weeks now, we’ve been treating you as if you have already completed your education and formation. We celebrated you at a luncheon and now we bless you at this worship service. But you have not yet made all of those final presentations; not yet written and turned in those final papers; not yet seen those final grades. In between. Waiting.
From the Gospel of John:
Do not let your hearts be troubled. You have faith in God; have faith in me as well. In God’s house there are many dwelling places; otherwise, how could I have told you that I was going to prepare a place for you? I am indeed going to prepare a place for you, and then I will come back to take you to myself, so that where I am, there you may be also.
And I will ask Abba God to give you another Paraclete, another Helper, to be with you always—the Spirit of truth. You know the Spirit, because she abides with you, and she will be within you.
I will not leave you orphaned.
This much I have said to you while still with you; but the Paraclete, the Holy Spirit, whom Abba God will send in my name, will instruct you in everything and she will remind you al all that I told you Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Do not let your hearts be troubles, and do not let them be afraid.
As you wait, in between, can you, dare you, acknowledge the loss, the change—the end of a particular kind of presence and intimacy and community? And dare you, can you, hear the thin, barely audible promise in the air that a new mode of being and acting and relating lies on the horizon?
From the Letters of Paul, Peter and John:
“Not that I have already obtained this or already reached the goal; but I am running the race in order to grab hold of the prize, since Christ Jesus has grabbed hold of me.”
“What sort of persons ought you to be in leading lives of holiness and godliness, waiting for and hastening the coming of the day of God. In accordance with God’s promise, we wait for new heavens and a new earth, where righteousness is at home. Therefore, beloved, while you are waiting for these things, strive to be found by God at peace.”
“My dear friends, now we are God children; it has not yet been revealed what we are to become. We know that when it comes to light, we will be like God, for we will see God as God really is.”
How do we live in between? How do we wait? What do we do after the old way has passed and before a new way has arrived? Well, we do, we work, we run, we get sweaty – physically and spiritually. And yet deeper, we are invited to let go, to receive. Like cold water on a feverish face, we are reminded that we do not have mission, a mission has us. The Holy One does not belong to any church or helping agency; rather our churches, our agencies belong to the Holy One. We don’t’ grab hold of Jesus, Jesus grabs hold of us. Waiting. In between. Already. Not Yet. Do and leave off doing. Give and receive. Exert yourself and relax.
~ A reflection given by Dr. Mark L. Taylor, at the Liturgy Celebrating the Graduating Students of the School of Theology and Ministry at Seattle University. May 22, 2012. The Chapel of St. Ignatius.
