The Space Between – Caroline Dean (3/31/19)

“The Space Between: Goodbyes & Hellos”

Rev. Caroline Lawson Dean

Christ Church Summit

 

 

John 14:15-18, 25-27

‘If you love me, you will keep my commandments. And I will ask the Father, and God will give you another Advocate, to be with you forever. This is the Spirit of truth, whom the world cannot receive, because it neither sees him nor knows him. You know him, because he abides with you, and he will be in^* you.

‘I will not leave you orphaned; I am coming to you. In a little while the world will no longer see me, but you will see me; because I live, you also will live.

‘I have said these things to you while I am still with you. But the Advocate,^* the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you everything, and remind you of all that I have said to you.Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.

 

Let us pray:  God of Love, we ask for your Spirit of comfort & your spirit of power to enfold us today in your love.  That we might trust you in the “in between” spaces – by the power of your Spirit and in the name of your Son, we pray Amen.

 

Goodbyes are hard work.  In a spirit of great love Jesus offers some of his final teachings by breaking bread with his disciples.  Jesus shows the disciples a spiritual path to help them face a very difficult goodbye.  In the Gospel of John the “last supper scene” is paired with the foot washing ritual and it is unique in its tone.  In the other three synoptic gospels the meal feels like a serene supper with friends.  But in the gospel of John the disciples seek consolation & clarity in the face of the unknown.

On March 30^th 2009 – almost ten years ago to the day – a young divinity school student emailed the staff at “christ church summit dot org” to inquire about church job opportunities in northern New Jersey.  Brantley would begin PHD work at Drew University in the fall and we would soon graduate, get married and move to the area all in the next few months.  And so a few weeks later, on a sunny & cold spring day in April (unusual for us southerners), I rode the Morris Essex line for the first time from Madison to Summit and hopped off of the train.  Julie, Chuck & I met for lunch at the old school iteration of “The Office.”  We chatted a bit and I casually asked, “Do you know of any Baptist churches who are hiring?”  And the rest is history.

In the spring of 2009 Brantley & I were “in between” a significant goodbye & transformative hello: between the sacred community of friends from Divinity School and what was waiting for us in New Jersey, beyond what we could ever imagine.  Even then, I could sense the Spirit was near – like a mysterious sacred match-maker – drawing us forward between two poles in our lives – towards something beautiful.

During Jesus’ difficult goodbye he tells his disciples, “I will not leave you orphaned.”  “I will send a great comforter, an advocate, one who will remind you of my love.”  Through the Spirit we have access to God’s peace.  In the hard goodbye, Jesus promises a peace big enough to hold us in the midst of our grief.  Not the kind of peace that makes us immune to suffering, but a kind of peace that brings us comfort and glimpses of wholeness in the midst of suffering.

It is true that the ones we love shape us and we carry that shape with us.  And yet when they are physically absent there is a great loss.  After Jesus’ death and resurrection things are different.  There is the sting of loss.  With that knowledge, Jesus reminds his disciples, “Where I am going, you will be also.” Jesus says, “There is plenty of room!”

          And still goodbyes are hard work.  During our ministry at Christ Church the Holy Spirit has pulled us forward between who we are and who we are in the process of becoming.  It is interesting how when you face goodbyes you reflect on the “origin stories” the pivotal moments on the journey.  It’s amazing how I can close my eyes and recreate these scenes…

          I can see Ed Walter across from me on a leather chair – or maybe one of those wooden benches – in the atrium, gathered with a bunch of youth parents.  That night I would come home and say to Brantley, “guess what!? I recruited my first youth volunteer the only problem is that Ed wants to skip devotions and play games!”  Turns out ten years later this is no problem at all, to this day the kids all show up when Ed is coming to youth group, because they know he is a blast and they love him for so much more than his poker dealing skills.

          I can close my eyes and see Marilyn Devroye standing near corner of that table by Barnwell Hall gently, intentionally (as is her way) asking, “Caroline, why don’t you come to Nicaragua and check it out?”

          I can remember clearly the moment I was sitting in my office and Bola Lawrence called.  She asked a pivotal question: “My daughter wants to go to a vigil in New York – do you think we can plan a “brown lives matter” prayer vigil here in town?”

          I can remember pulling up a leather chair next to Amanda Block and listening as she outlined her brilliant plan to launch a new project called the GRACE Refrigerator.

As I reflect on our ministry at Christ Church over ten years, I often find that words fail.  And in his last weeks, Jesus gave us a few tips on this front.  He gave us ritual.  A meal.  Broken bread. A cup poured out.  He put a towel around his waist.  He washed his disciples’ feet.  He said “go and do likewise.”  Jesus gave us action, movement & physical boundaries to contain some of our grief, our anger, the full range of human emotion.

Matthew Sanford writes in his memoir entitled, “Waking: A Memoir of Trauma and Transcendence,” “There’s a reason why, when my son who’s six is crying he needs a hug.  It’s not just that he needs my love.  He needs a boundary around his experience.  He needs to know that the pain is contained.  He gets a hug and he drops into his body.”

Ritual connects our prayer life to our physical reality and perhaps more importantly to our own bodies.  In an interview about Joyce Rupp’s book “Praying our Goodbyes,” she is asked, “Why is ritual so important?”  She answers, “For so long we have prayed out of our heads, with our thoughts and our words.  We have a “neck up” spirituality and we have really neglected our bodies, to our detriment… People are craving ritual.”[1]

          What are your sacred rituals?  Sharing a meal?  Singing or listening to music? Exchanging a gift or a hug?  Looking through old photos or journals?  Noticing the sacredness in nature?  What helps us put some physical boundary around the depth of our love and the depth of our grief?

Goodbyes are hard work.  And so Jesus says as a part of his goodbye, “I give you a new commandment, that you love one another, as I have loved you.”  On the cross, Jesus says to his beloved disciple and to his mother Mary, “this is your mother, this is your son.”  Jesus reiterates, during his chance to say goodbye that we need to take care of each other.

  In Jesus’ day “an advocate” was a welcomed presence during Roman oppression.  And in our day, “The Holy Spirit” “The Advocate” is the one who has been called to our side when we face the real powers that threaten.  And so the question for us this day is how do we continue to channel God’s advocacy by locating ourselves with the most vulnerable?  How are we participating in the work of the Spirit, so that indeed no one is left orphaned?

Often we think of the Spirit as the comforter, the presence of God who comes to us on a deeply personal level.  But here we are also confronted by the power and the communal embodiment of the Spirit.  The Spirit is a force, between us.  The Advocate weaves us together to create a more just and peaceful world.

          When I think of the power of the Spirit, I think of the way that the Christian movement burst onto the map after Jesus’ death & resurrection.  This movement is of course Jesus’ legacy but it is also the legacy of the Holy Spirit.  This Christian movement, that we cherish, is far from perfect, but what if today we can tap even a modicum of this Holy Spirit power.  Imagine a rebirth of the church bursting forth.  Imagine a just & transformational way of being in community together.  A church that just might change the world.

In the “in between times” we have to acknowledge that this is a group effort.  To be clear any origin story of the Spirit is an effort beyond one or two people.

When I think of that first meeting with youth volunteers years ago– I am full of joy, laughter & gratitude remembering each of you who have volunteered to support our youth, drive them to Bridges, or God Bless those of you who chaperoned at Camp Bernie or on RISE or in Nicaragua.

When I think of some of the origin stories of our Race Equity work I lift up in gratitude all of you who are so deeply committed to our multi-pronged effort to raise awareness and make direct change in local anti-racism work.

When I mention Grace Refrigerator I am mindful of literally thousands of us who have made a bridges lunch, or a Family Promise meal, those who have financially supported SOS or the Board of World Fellowship to take care of the “least of these” in direct and tangible ways.

And that doesn’t even begin to capture the times that you have opened your homes to our church community, or freely offered your gifts – most importantly the sacred gift of your presence – to serve this church family to make it such an irreplaceable church home.

          These efforts are yours.  They have transformed me just as much as they have transformed our community and our world.  Edith Wharton writes “there are two ways of spreading light, to be the candle or the mirror that reflects it.”  In many ways my ministry at Christ Church has simply been to magnify the gifts and spiritual radiance of this beloved community.

          And this is the kind of sacred work that makes it so hard to say goodbye.   Glennon Doyle writes in her memoir “Love Warrior” that, “Grief is love’s souvenir. It’s our proof that we once loved. Grief is the receipt we wave in the air that says to the world: Love was mine.  Here is proof.”

          And so beloved go out now continuing in these sacred effort.  Go out in comfort, in God’s enduring peace, trusting in the Spirit’s power which fuels our justice work.  God’s power which draws us from the known into the sacred unknown.  That we might continue to weave something beautiful in the space between each goodbye and every new hello.  Amen.

[1] https://jitterbuggingforjesus.com/2010/02/16/poetry-prose-talk-from-the-spiritual-writer-joyce-rupp-women-we-love-deep-faith-writers-div/     Poetry & prose & talk from the spiritual writer Joyce Rupp (Women We Love, Deep-Faith Writers Div.)

February 16, 2010 A blog post by Rev. Paul McKay