May 25, 2008
First Congregational Church in Thetford, Vermont, UCC
Matthew 6:24-34
A Tale of two commencements
This past weekend I attended two commencement ceremonies. The first was my own
graduation from Andover Newton Theological School on May 17th. There were 73 total
graduates from a variety of programs, receiving Master of Arts, Master of Divinity,
Master of Sacred Theology and Doctor of Ministry degrees. Family and friends gathered
for the commencement exercise in the First Baptist Church of Newton Centre, just a short
walk down the hill form the Andover Newton Campus. Eight members of my home
church in Greensboro made the four hour drive to attend to support me and to cheer
along with my family when I was presented with my MDIV. One of the doctoral
candidates, who is already pasturing a church in Springfield Mass brought an entourage
of sixty parishioners and family members who cheered quite loudly when he received his
degree. But it wasn’t the loudest cheer of the ceremony. That distinction went to the
final (alphabetically) recipient of the MDIV. The entire church was on its feet. Phyllis
has been attending ANTS for several years part time, so all of her fellow graduates have
had a class or two with her. Why were we all so excited to see Phyllis graduate?
Because she is over eighty years old, seeking ordination in the UCC, with the hope of
serving a congregation as its settled pastor. She has inspired all of us with her energy, her
intellect, her delightful sense of humor, and her commitment to respond to God’s call
despite the many obstacles. Phyllis will be a blessing to whatever church she serves.
Two days later, on Monday, my oldest daughter graduated from Boston College, in the
company of approximately three thousand other students. This commencement ceremony
was held in the football stadium. It took at least 20 minutes for the faculty, the college’s
president and deans, the archbishop of Boston, the commencement speaker, the honorary
degree recipients, and the students to process in. The floor of the stadium was a veritable
sea of black mortar boards.
We had to park in a shopping mall and take a shuttle bus to the campus. So we arrived
early and found seats behind the section where we expected Kelton to sit. She had
provided us with a map indicating where the various groups of students would be seated
according their particular school of study– the college of nursing, of arts and sciences, the
law school students, business school students and students graduating from the school of
education. Each school marched in behind a banner, so we knew when to look for her and
were thus able pick her out of the crowd. Our first clue was the texture of the hair
hanging out from the under the cap, but I also knew she’d be wearing gold metallic flip-
flops because the women had received instructions that high heels were not allowed due
to the potential damage they could do to the turf of the football field. As we had been
waiting for the procession to snake around the campus and enter the stadium, several of
the parents seated near us were in communication with their graduating students by cell
phone, checking on their location and estimating the time of arrival. I’m not yet totally
immersed in cell phone culture because I’m only able to use mine when I’m away from
home as there is still no cell service in our part of the Northeast Kingdom. My phone is
often turned off, or I leave it in my room when I go to class. I don’t answer it when I’m
driving, neither do I walk around talking on the phone.
When the BC graduates entered the stadium and found their seating section on the field,
many of them still on the phones, turned toward the spectators in the seats behind them,
seeking to locate their families and friends in the crowd. Both on the field and in the
stands there was much waving of hands and programs and describing identifying stadium
landmarks (we’re under where it says “Orange Bowl” or “Sugar Bowl,” as all of the bowl
games that the BC Eagles have played in over the years are listed around the top the edge
of Alumni Stadium). Kelt knew that we would follow the provided floor plan and sit
between the 20 and 30 yard lines, and she too turned to search for her family. Without
the convenience of the cell phone connection we had to sacrifice our dignity to make
enough of a jumping and waving display to distinguish ourselves from our neighbors.
But we managed to get her attention. Several times during the ceremony she glanced
back over her shoulder at us. Following the commencement she commented that she
couldn’t believe that we were able to spot her in that crowd. But the ceremony would
have lacked something for her and for us if we hadn’t sought and found each other so
that we could feel connected across the distance between our seats.
The general commencement was followed by breakout diploma ceremonies for each of
the distinct colleges. So we filed out of the stadium and climbed the seven stories up the
million-dollar staircase to the O’Neil Library plaza where the Lynch School of Education
ceremony was held. Minutes after finding a seat, my cell phone rang. My friend Judy
was calling. Judy and I met on a teen tour – an East coast to West coast bus trip with 20
other teenagers - when we were sixteen years old and have managed to stay in touch for
more than thirty-five years even though we’ve never lived in the same place. She’s from
Michigan and I’m from New York. I went to grad school in Michigan but she was at
Notre Dame Law school in Indiana at the time. My first job following grad school was in
Oklahoma City, while she was clerking for a US District Court Judge in Nashville,
Tennessee. Then Judy took a second law clerk position, this time at the US Supreme
Court, followed by a job with a law firm in Washington DC. Meanwhile I went to work
in Texas, then to Colorado. By the time she took a teaching position at Boston College I
was back in Houston. We finally found ourselves living in the same part of the country
when my family moved to Vermont. Ours has never been the kind of relationship that
was dependent on proximity to maintain the live connection we’ve had with one another.
But one of the best bonuses of my attending classes at Andover Newton these past few
years was that it was the closest that Judy and I have ever come to living in the same
place at the same time. My cell phone rang, Judy was at O’Neil plaza looking for us.
And so I found myself engaged in same sort of cell phone search process that I had just
witnessed between parents and graduates at the football stadium. We tried to locate
points of reference so we could determine where we were relative to each other, we
described what we were wearing all while standing and scanning the crowd for the
familiar face, with the cell phones held to our ears.
The phone call we all dread
A few weeks earlier, back near the end of April, I got the phone call that everyone
dreads. That call from a relative who never phones you, that triggers you to brace for bad
news. It my niece calling, my half sister’s daughter telling me that her mother had died.
My sister was almost twenty years older and hadn’t grown up in the same household as
my brother and me who are only a year apart in age. Her children are closer to my age
than she was, and I regarded them more like cousins than nieces and nephews, as she was
more like an aunt than a sibling. I hadn’t seen my sister for several years, but even this
close to the end of the semester, with four final papers due in a matter of days, there was
no question that I needed to make the trip to North Carolina for her funeral. I emailed all
of my professors and explained why I would miss class and might be submitting my final
assignments electronically. They each expressed their condolences and assured me that
my priority was with my family, not my school work. “Do not worry about tomorrow.
Today’s troubles are enough for today” (Matt 6:34). I packed my laptop computer in my
carry on and was able to work on the plane and in LaGuardia airport between flights. So
the time I spent with family during those three days was focused only on family.
Mine is not a family that stays in close contact. One of the things I realized when my
mother died twelve years ago, was that she was the glue that held the rest of us together.
The only time I saw many of my relatives was at my mother’s house. Lacking that central
gathering place, there were several of these family members that I hadn’t seen in years.
My mother had been the glue that held us together. It was in her house that we
periodically gathered and renewed our connection to one another. After she was gone,
we failed to seek new ways to be in relationship. What got in the way of staying
connected? Was it my selfish pride – I have visited my brother in every place he’s ever
lived, but he’s never visited me anyplace I’ve ever lived. Was it a feeling of shame, was I
afraid that my family didn’t approve of me – I’ve always been the odd duck in the family
never quite doing what was expected, going off to Wyoming to study rocks as a graduate
student in geology, working for an oil company, marrying outside of my race. Was it
arrogance – I’m more educated than any of my family members. Was it anger – after a
decade of living in different time zones from the rest of my family, I finally relocated to
the northeast and within two years both my parents had died, my sister had moved to
North Carolina and my brother to Florida. I didn’t completely distance myself from them
of course, I kept minimum contact with birthday cards and Christmas cards with pictures
of my kids as they grew up and occasionally a phone call. At some level I believed that I
was so different from the rest of my family that we wouldn’t have much to talk about.
But deeper down I think I was afraid that they didn’t want to be in contact with me. The
longer we went without substantive contact, the easier it was to believe these excuses I
had created out of my own insecurity. Seeking to be in relationship is a risk taking
activity. It requires a willingness to be vulnerable, a willingness to risk the pain of
rejection.
The healing process in gathering for the funeral of a loved one is in the sharing of
memories, and the telling of stories. I had never been to Wilmington, North Carolina
before, but my family had several generations of history lived here. I only knew the place
from stories my mother told me about growing up there when the town was completely
segregated. And though times have changed, I could still see the remnant of those earlier
times, two hospitals, two high schools, two distinct histories, though only one is taught.
To my surprise I spent a good deal of my time in Wilmington conversing with family
members with whom I hadn’t expected to have much interaction. Of course we promised
never to go as long again without contact. We exchanged mailing addresses, email
addresses, land line and cell phone numbers. Whether we keep that promise to each other
remains to be seen, but I believe all of our intentions are genuine. Yet it is so easy to get
caught up in our personal lives, each with our own concerns about the future. There are
priorities to tend to, even necessities to be sure. But we need to stop short of letting them
consume our time and completely occupy our thoughts to the exclusion of our relationship
with each other. We can’t let these activities become part of the arsenal of distraction
that keeps us in our safe comfort zone allowing us to avoid becoming exposed and
vulnerable.
I’ll worry about that tomorrow
Today’s lesson from the Gospel of Matthew teaches us just that. “Do not worry about
tomorrow. Today’s troubles are enough for today” (Matt 6:34)
“But strive first for the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will
be given to you as well” (Matt 6:32). It isn’t that we shouldn’t take care of the
necessities of life. It is that we need not be anxious about our ability to meet these needs.
Rather, we aim to live in the faith that God provides for our needs. This passage from
Matthew is within the discourse section of the gospel that we know as “The Sermon on
the Mount.” A few verses earlier in chapter six Jesus instructed his listeners how to pray
teaching them the prayer we still use – in a variety of forms - in churches today. The act
of praying focuses our attention and our intentions:
“Thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven” (King James Version).
“Your kingdom come, your will be done on earth as it is in heaven” (New Revised
Standard Version).
“May your reign come; may your will be done on earth as it is in heaven” (Inclusive
Bible).
Seeking the realization of God’s kingdom on earth is not passive. It is work that requires
intention, initiative and sustained activity. We don’t simply wait for this better way of
living to arrive. In an adaptation of the Lord’s Prayer from New Zealand the line we
recite as “Your kingdom come, your will be done on earth as it is in heaven” reads:
“may we work with you to establish your new order of justice, peace and love” (Gifts of
many Cultures, Tirabassi and Eddy, page 49).
It was the children of the congregation who led us in the Lord’s prayer earlier this
morning, who led us in speaking this sacred intention. Perhaps we can take our cues for
action in kingdom building from children as well. A couple of years ago I volunteered to
help out with the cross-country ski and snowshoe program at the elementary school in
Greensboro. When I met the group I was to escort on the trail, a little girl I’d never seen
before told me I looked like her mother. She was blonde haired, blue eyed, light
skinned…and I am not. I had no idea where she was going with this observation. Then
she said, “You’re brown, BUT you have freckles. My mom has freckles, too.” In a world
that is quick to draw boundaries that separate “us” from “them” she recognized a
difference and acknowledged it, but focused on the commonality that connected us,
rather than a difference that could be used to divide people.
This kingdom we seek is restored/right relationship with our Creator, with each other and
with Creation itself, that is, with the natural world. If we focus our energy on this image
of what our world was created to be, the rest is gravy. The success of our journey of
seeking true connection with each other will be determined by how well we stay
connected to God. The equipment required for this journey includes praise, dignity and
respect. In an atmosphere of mutual respect it is possible to exercise a genuine curiosity.
It is a safe space to ask the questions that may not have easy answers, or may not have
any answer at all.
Wireless connections
My fellow Andover Newton graduate, Phyllis proved that it is never too late to answer
God’s call. She doesn’t worry about how much time she might have left to serve. She is
applying her gifts to the creation of a beloved community for as long as she is able to
contribute. There is an African American hymn that starts, “He has done great things for
me.” Another verse is, “He has made a way for me.” God makes a way. Love finds that
way. Loves doesn’t give up until it’s found that way.
Relationships require work to maintain, as has my thirty-five year long relationship with
my friend Judy. On the surface the two of us have nothing in common but a summer
experience as teenagers. But we share more than memories because we were both
transformed during that summer road trip.
This kingdom, this beloved community that we are working to build is a lifelong
friendship. It is maintaining family ties. It is building a bigger and more inclusive family.
We’re born connected, we just have to remember to be intentional about recognizing and
maintaining our connection.
We don’t have cell phone service in my corner of the Northeast Kingdom. But we do
have high-speed wireless Internet connection. The bell tower of the Greensboro Church
shelters some of the equipment that keeps our somewhat remote little village connected to
the larger world. There is something fitting about the church being a point that connects
people. I like to imagine the invisible lines of energy radiating out from the church,
seeking and finding, keeping people connected to loved ones who might be nearby or far
away.
This Thetford church has already caught the vision of a bigger and more inclusive family.
You are already an Open and Affirming congregation, now you are seeking to become
more Multicultural and Multiracial. I feel blessed and honored to join you on this leg of
your journey. While it is true we are all affected by the racism in America, please be
aware that, as a person of color, I have different issues to resolve than most of you. I
need to work at exorcising my own internalized racism as you are working to understand
and acknowledge how you have benefited – whether intentionally or not –from being
members of the dominant culture, from white privilege. The work is integrally related,
but we come to it from different perspectives out of different experiences.
I pray that in the weeks ahead, in the work we do here together, in discovering our
common memories and sharing our stories, we all move closer to the kingdom. Let the
people of God say, Amen.
Sermon 05/25/2008