I
am a professional procrastinator. Though I normally push assignments
and tasks off till the absolute last possible moment, I actually
managed to begin writing this sermon about three weeks ago. I met
with Father Christian, discussed the guidelines, and even had half of
a rough draft for him two weeks ago. I was on schedule and
successfully writing a sermon, till I did nothing to the sermon for
the next two weeks. That’s right. I utterly ignored the impending
doom of delivering this sermon for two blissful weeks, until
yesterday afternoon, when reality descended upon me. I all of a
sudden realized that tomorrow was the day I had to stand in front of
you and deliver wisdom and insight on a gospel reading I didn’t
fully understand. Honestly, the person I most related to in the
gospel reading was Thomas, as he asks Jesus “Lord, we do not know
where you are going. How can we know the way?” The fact that I
connected with the most confused person in the gospel wasn’t very
comforting, yet I clung to that relationship desperately. As a solid
cradle Episcopalian, I went through eight years of Catechesis, and I
believe Sabra Martin would be over joyed to hear that I still
remember that this Thomas is Doubting Thomas, who got his nickname
for his inability to believe in the Risen Lord until he had seen and
physically touched the Lord’s hands and pierced sides. The more I
ruminated on Thomas late last night, the worse I felt for him. Thomas
really got the short end of the stick in terms of nicknames. The poor
guy seems to have been plagued by questions the other disciples don’t
seem to have, or are not willing to ask out loud. Personally, if I
were in Thomas’s sandals, I would probably ask the same questions.
I believe Thomas was more curious than anything else, and that is a
trait I can relate to as well. Growing up, I have spent many hours in
church, staring around the sanctuary during sermons, wondering why
things are the way they are. For example, I only understood the
Easter window, off to my right, about a month ago. I have always
wondered why there was a bird on fire for the Easter window. Wouldn’t
an empty tomb or maybe an angel at the tomb be a better
representation of the resurrection? It finally occurred to me that
the bird on fire is most probably a phoenix, mythical birds that
burst into flames and resurrect in cycles during their lifetimes.
With the resurrecting bird connecting with the resurrecting Lord, one
question out of a hundred was answered for me; however, many more
remain. Thomas’s question of “How can we know the way” is a
perfectly legitimate one, and I think the only way to know the answer
to this is to know and understand our individual pasts in order to
move forward.
Mr. Garvey told me on Friday that
life is like a journey down a river, except we are floating backward
and can only see where we have been. For me, I was born and raised in
this magnificent church, spending the grand majority of services
either in the Roddy family pew or up on the alter acolyting. I have
been an acolyte for thirteen years, and have moved up in the ranks
from banner to crucifer. As many of you read in my Lenton reflection,
while I love acolyting, I actively avoid being clergy crucifer so as
to avoid awkwardly holding the Gospel and not knowing where to look.
Besides acolyting, I attended Catechesis and eventually graduated up
to regular Sunday school. Although the location of the services has
been constant throughout my entire life, the content and experiences
I have gotten from Ascension has changed over the years. I think my
Episcopalian experience has been slightly unique in the large number
of priests I have lived through in my short eighteen years at
Ascension. I first remember Ladson, the ex-military rector. Father
Ladson firmly believed that church was a punctual business, with
services beginning at 10 o’clock and ending right at 11 o’clock.
He would even speed read the communion and sending forth prayer if it
looked like we were behind schedule. My younger self loved this
punctuality and dedication to predictable one-hour services. Ladson
also had a select number of hymns he enjoyed singing, and so we sung
them regularly. My family joking called them “Ladson’s Greatest
Hits,” and when one of them is chosen, we can quite often sing them
without a hymnal. After Ladson, we had the wonderful, old Father
Mervin. Mervin hailed from Ireland, and had an extremely thick Irish
accent to prove it. He always said, “May the peace of the Lord be
always wish you.” When Father Howard arrived at Ascension when I
was in Middle School, I was taken aback. My sisters and I teasing
called him “Mr. Spiritual” because he didn’t have an affection
for punctual one-hour services and would often stop the service and
ask the congregation to simply “feel the holy spirit among us.”
For me, that was a major shock to the system; however, Father Howard,
I really do love your spiritual, loving ways. Though Ascension has
changed as the different rectors took residence in the sanctuary,
many attributes have stayed the same, most notably Christ’s
presence in this blessed sanctuary.
Today,
especially, is a turning point in my life. This afternoon, I graduate
from High School and leave behind eighteen years of life in
Knoxville, moving forward to my next adventure. I am actually
formally extending an invitation to anyone who wants to join the
festivities at Webb today at 3:00 pm. I have sincerely loved my
childhood here at Ascension, but now I will be moving to Houston,
Texas to attend Rice University next fall. Although I have done all
the reading, filled out the correct forms, and visited the campus, I
still do not really know what the next four years will hold for me.
Similar to Thomas, I am concerned about not knowing the way, and the
lack of certainty makes me nervous. Even though I solidly know where
I come from, the future remains mysterious, and no amount of
preparation can erase that doubt and concern. I guess the answer to
my questions lies in plain sight, per usual, when it comes to the
gospel readings. Jesus tells the disciples “Very
truly, I tell you, the one who believes in me will also do the works
that I do and, in fact, will do greater works than these, because I
am going to the Father. I will do whatever you ask in my name, so
that the Father may be glorified in the Son. If in my name you ask me
for anything, I will do it." Though on his way to the Ascension,
Jesus still comforts the disciples and assures them of his presence
in their uncertain futures without him. No matter what, He will
always be there for our time of need, just as he was for the
disciples so long ago. In true Father Howard fashion, I would like to
close with a group prayer. Will you please bow your head.
“Lord
God, thank you for today. Thank you for this gathering of the Youth
to demonstrate their love of this parish and of You, Lord. Thank you
for this loving and welcoming congregation and clergy that helped me
through this sermon. Please guide and protect us in the coming
months, making your presence be known. Please help us to feel less
like Doubting Thomas and more confident in our decisions as we ask
You to be more involved in our lives. And finally, Please watch over
and protect us until we can come together again to worship you. In
Your name I pray, Amen.
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