I love the part of a baptism service liturgy when the congregation are invited to remember their own baptism. I remember mine, at the age of 16, at Southfield Road Gospel Hall in our small town in North Somerset, back in the ‘80s. I remember approaching Len, one of the elders at our Baptist Church, about a month beforehand to ask about being baptised. Len would always give a double-handshake greeting if he was on the door at church. “I smile them in, and I smile them out,” he once said. Amazing what a double-handshake and a smile can do. I remember we sung O Happy Day that fixed my choice at my baptism service. It was all such a long time ago, and Len has long since been called home, but those moments of connection and meaning, of surrender and new beginnings, never fade.
Last Friday, I found myself in the company of friends and colleagues in Woodville Uniting Church. We were all present to celebrate an ordination to the diaconate. It was so moving to hear again the words of commitment and servanthood in that ordination liturgy. As the service got underway, we were each of us invited to remember our baptism. I found myself thinking about both my own baptism and my own ordination. Time flies – the 3-year anniversary of my ordination is coming up next week.
The Word preached during last Friday’s service was from Micah 6:8 – “the LORD has told you what is good, and this is what He requires of you: to do what is right, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God.” Since Friday, my thoughts have been occupied with my own years in diaconal ministry, and whether I’ve lived up to Micah’s words.
Earlier this week, I teamed up with the minister of another church in Adelaide to gather over two dozen signatures of Uniting Church clergy onto an open letter supporting the bill before Parliament set to ban so-called ‘conversion therapy.” That action felt very much in keeping with Micah’s doing right, and loving mercy. But moments like that are so few and far between; for each moment like that, there are hundreds of quieter moments of prayer, of preparing the message for Sunday morning or the liturgy for Sunday evening, of writing the newsletter, or driving to see someone in care, hours spent listening, and of course, those smiling handshakes. In those moments, have I lived up to Micah’s words?
Despite my best efforts, I’ve been plagued with a sense of inadequacy and, I suppose, failure, for the past year or more. Why isn’t the church growing? Why don’t many folks come in the evening? Why can’t we get a midweek prayer meeting off the ground? Why is so much of my time spent in meetings? I know I’m not the first to ask these sorts of questions. And I’m in good company – just look at Elijah: in 1 Kings 19:4, he cries, “I’m no better than my ancestors.” The fatal trap of comparing ourselves to those who have gone before us. And how quickly I can forget the words that I myself have shared on a Sunday morning – words of God doing a “new thing.” Words of being made and known intimately, hemmed in with a hand of blessing on my head. Words of being loved before the foundations of the world, and to everlasting. Words of being chosen and commissioned – words of belonging and purpose? How often I can forget the things I know deep down!
When will I remember to see myself as God sees me? – that is, through the eyes of love. “Be who you are, perfectly well” – so said St Francis de Sales. And St Teresa’s words went even deeper: She said, “Holiness consists in being just what God wants us to be.” It is a holy thing to be who God has created and called us to be! Years earlier, St Catherine of Siena had said, “Be who God meant you to be and you will set the world on fire.” Imagine that.
I think Rabbi Zusya’s words resonate most deeply: “In the world to come I shall not be asked: ‘Why were you not Moses?’ I shall be asked: ‘Why were you not Zusya?’”
I love Adrian Plass’ first Sacred Diary because it is humble, and honest, and authentic. There is a comfort that comes from reading it. I think back almost 40 years to elder Len’s double-handshake and his smile; here was a man who served others and walked humbly with his God, and that’s what I still remember about him.
I know that God has given me a heart for Scripture, a heart for people, and a heart for authenticity. He has called me into the diaconate to serve others, and be a signpost to a living, loving, God who really cares. Who cares even for me. If those things shine through – if that’s what folks see – then that is enough; I will be honouring who I am called to be. And looking back, I can see there are folks during my chaplaincy years in Eldercare and in the prison system – and even before that – who would testify first and foremost to my heart. My prayer is that one day when I look back on this season too, I will discover also that there are folks who clearly saw and knew the heart of this humble man walking with his God.
I very much love these words from Chekhov: “We shall find peace. We shall hear angels. We shall see the sky sparkling with diamonds.” Words so full of promise and hope, inviting us to see possibility and wonder even in the darkest sky. We shall find peace and hear angels. Elijah in his anxious state was greeted by an angel, he slept, and ate, then he slept again, and ate again, before going on to encounter God and to find peace. And God gave him his next assignment and the reassurance that he was not alone. I too shall find rest in the One who made me and loves me. I too will continue to feed on His Word. Rest and food for my own pilgrimage. And then one day, like elder Len, I too will be called home. And there, with the sky sparkling with diamonds, I will meet the One who loves me despite my anxieties and missteps, the One who has carried me since my youth, who carries me now, and will carry me still.
O happy day that fixed my choice
On Thee, my Saviour and my God!
Well may this glowing heart rejoice,
And tell its raptures all abroad.
‘Tis done, the great transaction’s done;
I am my Lord’s and He is mine;
He drew me and I followed on,
Rejoiced to own the call divine.
Now rest, my long-divided heart,
Fixed on this blissful center, rest…
Till in life’s latest hour I bow,
And bless, in death, a bond so dear.
*
Scripture refs. Micah 6:8, 1 Kings 19, Is 43:19, Psalm 139, Eph 1:4, Jer 31:3, Eph 1:3, Mt 28:16-20, 1 Jn 3:2, Heb 13:5.
The Rabbi Zusya quote is taken from “Modern Spirituality” by John Garvey
“The Sacred Diary of Adrian Plass (Age 37 ¾)” is by Adrian Plass
“We shall find peace. We shall hear angels…” is a quote taken from “Uncle Vanya” by Anton Chekhov
The hymn “O happy day” is by Philip Doddridge