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Hello, I Must be GoingA sermon given at
May used to be my favorite month. But lately I find myself getting a little cranky every May. It might be because of my allergies to blossoming trees and grasses, which do seem to get worse every year. Or it may be because there is a lot of extra work to do to tie up lose ends at the end of the year. But I know the real reason I get cranky in May is because you go away in May and some of you never return. We find ourselves this Sunday at an intersection of our own lives when we are saying good bye to friends and the church’s recollection of Jesus leaving his followers at the Ascension described in the Acts of the Apostles. Since Easter we have been reading of Jesus doing some of the same things you’re doing – getting ready to leave. Dean’s Date has passed and exams will end this week. The U-Store is stocked with boxes and packing materials. And summer plans are pretty much set for most of you. Already parents are arriving on campus to pick up some of you and in a few days most of you will be gone. We can almost imagine Jesus sitting with friends at Frist or one of the clubs or enjoying the sunshine and the soft grass on Alexander beach. We can imagine him making the rounds at all his old haunts and trying to say all the things he wants to say to those whom he will be leaving very soon. The gospel of John that we have been hearing for the last few weeks is set toward the end of the Last Supper. Jesus knows he will die soon. He wants to make sure his friends are ready for his departure; he wants to make sure they know what to do when he’s not with them anymore. It’s almost as if he is doing a review session before the final exam – he’s covering all the important material one more time. He reminds them, and us, that they are to be servants to one another and he drives his point home by washing their feet. He tells them that there are many places in heaven for them and that he is going to prepare a place for them. He tells them who he really is by telling them that he and the Father are one and the same. He tells them to love one another just as he loves them. He tells them not to let their hearts be troubled, to have faith that his Spirit – that is, God’s Spirit, God’s breath, the wind of God – will be with them and around them to comfort them and sustain them. Then he says, “I am going away, and I am coming to you.” This sounds a little crazy, doesn’t it. It reminds me of Groucho Marx’s song “Hello, I Must be Going” from the 1930 film Animal Crackers (and, no, I didn’t see it when it first came out!). Is he coming or is he going? Is he coming and going? Is he confused? When Jesus says “I am going away, and I am coming to you.” He is not confused, nor is he making a joke. He is speaking again of the Spirit of God which is, in fact, his own spirit. He is saying that he is leaving them in the physical sense, but staying with them in the spiritual, everlasting sense. By being aware of his Spirit they can feel his presence, be guided by him, be sustained in all they must do, and be comforted in any hardship. Jesus wants to be sure they understand this so that they will know that at any time they can in their hearts and minds turn to him and he will be with them just as surely as if he were there in the flesh. What a review session! What great preparation for the final exam! And talk about grade inflation! Everyone gets an A+! In a way, these are the things I want to say to you as you leave this place. I want to remind you, as Jesus reminded his disciples, that God is always available to you if you’ll just turn your heart to him if, in others words, you’ll just pay attention to God. I want to remind you that this meal of bread and wine that we share is, in the words of St. Ignatius of Antioch, the “medicine of immortality” – medicine for your soul and food for your spiritual journey (Ignatius of Antioch, Letter to the Ephesians, section 20). It is also a means by which we are connected to the whole Body of Christ throughout all ages. As my friend Alice Downs writes, “When the bread is handed to you at communion, look at it in your hands and know yourself to be in communion with generation upon generation of people who also have reached out their hands. And many of those people did so not even knowing why they were doing it. Be at one, even for a brief moment, with the richest and the poorest, the joyful and the devastated, and with all faithful seekers who savor the taste of divine love in a tiny piece of bread. Next time, just before you pray for yourself, pray also for them.” (Alice L. Downs, Leaven for our Lives. Cambridge: Cowley, 2002, 58-59) As you prepare to depart for the summer or for a lifetime I want also to remind you of a few other things about Jesus and the meaning of his life. It is not enough for us to know that we are loved and to love, although that is certainly necessary. It is also necessary that we understand in our deepest selves that by the birth, life, and death of Jesus our lives have been connected forever to the life of God. By understanding this we are called to a response – a response that demands that we do all we can to conform our lives to the life of God. In other words, it demands that we change, turn around, make an about face, convert! Convert from what to what, you might ask? From ourselves, our passions and appetites to a centeredness in God and to God’s way. This is the aspect of the Christian life that is difficult and even off putting. To know that we are loved is easy. To love others is harder, if not impossible, unless we center ourselves on God and become closer and closer to God. And that takes concerted effort and dedication. Finally, I want to urge you to be thankful. Be thankful for your lives, for all that God has given you. Even if things are hard, try to see the glass as half full rather than half empty, because in the cosmic sense, your glass is not half full – it is overflowing. So, cultivate in yourselves a spirit of gratitude for all you have been given by God and all that God has done and continues to do for you. I’ll close by inviting you to pray with me – a prayer of General Thanksgiving on page 125 of the Book of Common Prayer – that calls to our minds all these things I want you to remember as you leave this place for the summer, or for a lifetime: “Almighty God, Father of all mercies, we your unworthy servants give you humble thanks for all your goodness and loving-kindness to us and to all whom you have made. We bless you for our creation, preservation, and all the blessings of this life; but above all for your immeasurable love in the redemption of the world by our Lord Jesus Christ; for the means of grace, and for the hope of glory. And, we pray, give us such an awareness of your mercies, that with truly thankful hearts we may show forth your praise, not only with our lips, but in our lives, by giving up our selves to your service, and by walking before you in holiness and righteousness all our days; through Jesus Christ our Lord, to whom, with you and the Holy Spirit, be honor and glory throughout all ages. Amen.” |
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Copyright © 2002-2007 The Episcopal Church at Princeton University
Last updated: February 21, 2007, at 02:30 PM
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