First United Methodist Church, Birmingham, Michigan
Scripture: I Corinthians 1: 18-31, John 6: 1-14
I do not know when life begins. I think it was George Burns who, one day, put down his cigar long enough to suggest that life begins at eighty. I think it was Art Linkletter, among others, who argued that life begins at forty. There are a lot of kids who think that life begins when they get out of the house, andmore than a few parents who agree with them. And I have a good friend who contends that life begins when the last kid leaves home and the dog dies. Which explains why, when his youngest son graduated from high school, I suggested that somebody ought to sniff Chipper’s dog dish from time to time.
Seriously, let me begin with an apology for the “cute-sy” nature of my sermon title. The implied question is rhetorical. It is also dumb. Of course there is life after high school. There is also life after college. There is life after graduate school. There is even life after ordination. There is life after thirty. There is life after forty. And, God be praised, there is even life after fifty-eight.
But my title does have something behind it. Life’s major transitions always have a hint of death in them. Before one can graduate to something, one must graduate from something. And where there are separations, there are bound to be separation anxieties. For every graduate who shouts: “I can’t wait to get out of here,” or “Free at last,” there is another graduate who says (so that no one can hear): “I am afraid to leave.” More often than not, those feelings reside in the same person. My son’s high school class President, a lovely girl named Dawn Sherman, said, in the midst of a marvelous graduation speech: “Do you realize that tonight is the very last time we will ever all be together again?” And the sound of 325 people sucking in their breath at the same time, spoke with an eloquence that more than matched her words.
To be sure, there is life after high school. But there is just enough death in the transition, so as to make whatever comes nextlook a little bit like being reborn. The whole business of graduation is powerful and promising. But it ismore than a little bit painful.
And what is ityou are graduating to? There are some who would say that you are graduating to the “real world.” But I would suggest that such thinking is fraudulent and badly in need of correction. Allow me to volunteer for the job of Corrections Officer.
The “real world” is not out there! If it is, what does that have to say about your world? Are you living in a fantasy world? A play world? A preparatory world? There are few things I like less about the ministry than the suggestion that members of the clergy have no working knowledge of the “real world.” And you, dear graduates, should be no less offended at such a suggestion than I.
To graduate from high school means, among other things, that many of you have already:
· coped with the divorce, or severe discord in the marriage of your parents.
· watched an ambulance pull up to your high school and haul off one of your friends.
· watched them close your school….or conduct a day’s worth of classes under armed guards….because one of your classmates phoned in a threat to blow it up or shoot it up.
· found at least two jobs….quit at least one job….and groused about the wages you received at all of them.
· experienced your first (ever) brush with failure or rejection.
· confronted the blunt edge of your own limitations.
· didn’t get the grade you wanted….the part you wanted….the letter of acceptance you wanted….the date you wanted….or the position on the team you wanted.
· broken a law, gotten a ticket or crunched a fender.
· caused someone close to you to cry, curse, or wring their hands.
· been forced to make some rather personal decisions (under the influence of some very powerful pressures) about whether you would drink too much, go too far or stoop too low….only to discover that destiny (as a teenager) often turns on what you uncap, uncork, or unzip.
If those things don’t constitute slices of the real world, I don’t know what the “real world” looks like. So, if someone tells you that you are not a part of the real world yet, what they mean is that you are not fully earning your way. Which is probably true. But it carries with it the extremely dangerous assumption, that the only thing separating you from the real world is money and the fact that you are not making very much of it. As assumptions go, that is not a very good one to get trapped into believing. For it implies that retirees, housewives, and others who are not a part of the full-time work force, are also without a position in the real world. But that is another sermon, and in order to hear it you will have to come back another day.
Whether or not you are making any money, you are learning a great deal. And you must have gotten to be halfway decent at it, oryou would not be graduating. So do not let anyone disparage that (either graduating or learning). I issue that as a warning. For I fear that serious learning is somewhat under fire these days, especially if there does not appear to be an obvious and immediate connection between serious learning and financial benefits to be gained therefrom.
Much of Christianity (which certainly ought to know better) has climbed onto this rolling train of anti-intellectualism. This has become attractive to some Christians, because the faith they preach cannot stand the scrutiny of too-scholarly a glance. And they know it. “Don’t go to school,” some churches tell their would-be pastors. “It’ll only ruin you.” And I can understand how learning can get a bad press. After all, the Apostle Paul reminds us that knowledge is one of the things that will pass away, while love is one of the things that will abide. Elsewhere in his letter to the Corinthians, Paul suggests that“God has made foolish the wisdom of the world.” It is Paul’s way of telling us that knowledge is not God, and that reason has its limits. After all, if you dissect a frog, you will have a great deal of information on how frogs are put together. But you won’t have a frog anymore. And if you subject your faith to too much dissection, you might not have a faith anymore. Or so the argument goes.
Paul, of course, is talking about one particular group of Greek-Christians who are much into mind games. He is talking about people who claim they can think their way propositionally, step by logical step, to God. But Paul saysit won’t work. Logic can lead you a lot of places. But logic will never lead you, no matter how carefully crafted it may be, to a God who loves. Although a cross will.
But having spoken his piece about the folly of worshipping knowledge, Paul is not saying we ought to be fools. Neither is he writing a brief in defense of stupidity. For the human mind is a wonderful thing. I would submit that the human mind may be the most indisputable proof that a Divine Mind is guiding the unfolding process of creation. As Harold Kushner writes, “When you realize that human beings are born weaker, slower, more naked (in terms of protective body hair) and ever-so-much more vulnerable than most other creatures, you come to understand that apart from our intellect….and the ability to apply it….we wouldn’t be able to survive at all.” Or, as my late Aunt Marion used to say to people in perilous predicaments: “You dumb cluck….why don’t you use the brains God gave you?” Now I doubt that my Aunt Marion ever went to church a Sunday in her life. But, at that point, she was a pretty fair theologian.
But enough, dear graduates, from the soapbox. Let me turn, in closing, to a different matter. Allow me to ask what you are going to do with all this present and future learning. I am talking “vocation” here. Not vacation (as in chilling out….kicking back….blowing the summer off…. sleeping ‘til noon), but vocation (as in what are you going to do with your life, most days, from nine o’clock to five).
Vocation is a fancy word I use to describe “the work I do.” But what I would have you remember is that the linguistic root of “vocation” is “vocare.” Which is not so much the work I do, as the call I answer.
For I still believe that God calls people. I believe he calls them to do all kinds of things. And while I don’t have time this morning to flush out all of the ways that works, I do have some “feel” for how it works in my business….the ministry business.
God nudges people in all kinds of ways. Come fall, both Pam Beedle-Gee and Sarah Moore are heading for seminary. Pam is going to Garrett. Sarah is going to Duke. Sarah is young….just starting out. Pam’s young at heart….but (as years go) has already circled life’s track a few times. In Sarah’s case, God used some great experiences working with our youth group to divert herfrom the world of architecture. In Pam’s case, God used some great experiences in Girl Scouts, in Bible study, and as a two-year member of our Costa Rica work team to convince her and John (in Abraham-like fashion) to put the house up….load the wagon up….get her hopes up….and head (three or four years down the road) for some church’s pulpit.
And time would fail me, were I to tell you Todd Query’s story. Todd is heading down the home stretch, meaning that he will soon complete his final year at Methesco (in Delaware, Ohio) and wait to see what God will do with him next. Todd’s story is different. But then, every story is different. Especially Elmer’s. Having just finished his career in seminary, Elmer will start his career in ministry a couple of weeks from now. The church is in Croswell. Where I hope they are patient. Because Elmer is still getting his English whipped into shape. Elmer was born in Honduras with incredible health problems. More than once, he was written off as dead. But, as he puts it: “My mother’s faith in the Divine Doctor established my life.” After graduating from college in Honduras with a degree in Elementary Education, Elmer taught for awhile. But political instability in his country led him to set out for America. He landed in Texas….as an “illegal.” So he flew to New York City….as an “illegal.” The person he stayed with in New York finally said he couldn’t put him up any more. So Elmer went to the bus station, plunked all the money he had on the counter, and said: “Where go?” The agent on the other side of the counter counted all Elmer’s money, consulted his book of fares and said: “Detroit.”
Arriving here, he sat down on a bench until someone said: “Where are you going?”
“Detroit,” Elmer answered. “You’re in Detroit,” the man said, and pointed him in the general direction of Vernor Highway. Which was how it came to pass that Elmer Armijo wandered into our Methodist Church in Mexican Village….the one we call El Buen Pastor (the Good Shepherd)….and which is where he met Reverend Saul Trinidad, whose first words to him (in Spanish) were: “Brother, are you hungry?”
Eventually, Elmer landed a place to live, a place to work, a green card to make him legal, and a set of friends to make him loved. All of which came through the church….where he worshipped….where he worked….and where God found him (not that God had ever lost him) and tabbed him for ministry. Now, years later, he has jumped through all the hoops, cut through all the tape, passed through all the classes, and (a few week’s back) when Elmer said, “Where go?”, the Bishop said: “Croswell.”
I don’t know what you are being called to. I don’t know what is going on inside of you at this present moment of your life. I don’t know what is cracking loose in you…. or comfortably congealing in you. I don’t know what major idea is playing with you…. toying with you…. or drumming its fingers for attention on the armorplate that covers the soft underbelly of your soul. But I do know that whatever that idea is, you had better listen to it.
Permit me to return, once again, to the vocation I know best. And if you will be so kind, permit me to be momentarily crude in order to make a more lasting point. Allow me to quote for you, Rev. Tex Sample, who has done so much to touch my heart. Said Tex: “The call to the ministry is a lot like the feeling you get when you are about to throw up. You know you can put it off for a while….but sooner or later….”
My friends, there are many magnesias that will coat your call, so that it cannot be heard or heeded. Throw them away. Then ask yourself: “What is it that I have to keep swallowing back, lest it bubble up to the place where I can no longer ignore it.” For as crude as that image is memorable, there is one place where it breaks down. For the true calls of God (to ministry….or to anything else) tend to bubble up as joy.
I once had a friend who had reached a crossroads in her life. This way or that? This job or that? And I couldn’t make her decision for her. Nor was she asking me to. What I did was help her to listen to herself….to what she was saying about both alternatives. Or, more to the point, to the way she was saying it. For no matter how logically she tried to present both opportunities, there was an unmistakable bubble of joy that accompanied her telling of the one, that I found impossible to trace in her telling of the other.
So, my graduating friends, listen to your stomachs. Then listen to your joy. Because somewhere between nausea and laughter, you may hear something you can put off for awhile. But sooner or later….
