Friday, June 6, 2008

Dear God,

It could have been heaven for all I know. The great auditorium filled with folks ready to see God's glory. The stage had been set for heaven's own and they processed in following the brass cross lifted high.

I could hear your voice lean down, calling out to a people sorely in need of praise, praise to the highest heaven, to you, my Great and Wonderful God. They walked down the aisles, the aisles to our left and to our right. Adorned in white robes and black, wearing red stoles, the sign of your spirit, faces were lifted high, eyes fixed on the cross, the cross of Christ.

The ordination service is a high ceremony, the worship of God, our saying "thank you" to you, for our call to ministry, to the new ones, the latest ones, the current ones, those who just a few years ago cried out, "Here I am, Lord, here I am."

There's something unsettling about a call to ministry, like a rug pulled out from under your feet. Falling backward, no real stable footing, the breath gone from your lungs, one feels humbled, a shrinking to the smallest dimension. It's the voice, that voice that declares, "I want you, I want you to..." You're never really the same. You walk into a different realm and when you return to your seat, it is never the same. You can't go back. And you can't reconstruct life the way it used to be.

A bishop from South Africa spoke the prophetic challenge. A warrior against apartheid, he spoke the word of courage to us, all of us who have said yes. "Love your people," he said. "But speak the truth even when they don't want to hear it. The Word is not about making them comfortable, but rather taking the risk to move them from where they are to where they need to be. You are there to change their lives."

Such power taken humbly can indeed change the world. You have given us this message and this power and we only have a lifetime to do what you have called us to do.

There was one great roar as we sang out your praise. Deafening, because we were singing with our whole heart. No one held back. We wanted to sing; we wanted to praise. We wanted to offer our very best to you, the One to whom we love, the One whom we adore, the One to whom we owe everything, the very breath we breathe for it is yours. We breathe the air of your existence, the air of your love, the air of of your joy and peace. There is no contentment without you. Our hearts are always unsettled unless we stand with you.

When the time came we listened to our brothers and sisters in faith answer yes to the historic questions. "Will you..." A resounding yes came from lips who tonight love you more than themselves. Then we watched among the tears forming in our eyes as one by one knelt at the altar, the bishop laying his hands on shoulders, "Take thou authority..." "AMEN!" We responded.

And we sang out our final song, as a way to renew our commitment to you, to follow, to lead, to say yes again. We could not have been more stirred; our spirits could not have soared higher; we were indeed in your presence, your lovely presence, giving thanks with our all.

Thank you,
Great and Wondrous Spirit,
Living God,
Holy of Holies,
for your stir,
your power
that calls out
to speak
to your people.
We hear you;
we hear you,
O Lord,
and we want
to follow,
and to love,
and to sing,
and to dance
and to lead
as you say.
We are yours
again;
we are yours.

Love, Andrea