The other day I was listening to the radio when Elgar’s “Pomp and Circumstance” came on. Pretty soon tears came to my eyes. There’s something about that composition that always touches my deep-seated emotions. I think it’s because it is played at graduation ceremonies – times when I have said good-by to important parts of my life.
Good-byes are difficult. One of the hardest parts of being a parish priest is saying good-by when people move away, or die, or drop out for some reason. When that happens I almost always mourn their departure. As the song says,
“I’ve grown accustomed to their looks,
Accustomed to their voice,
Accustomed to their face.”
I also come to value their friendship and their unique gifts and special offerings. So, when I find out they are leaving, I always wonder how we will manage without them.
On the other hand, one of the best parts of being a parish priest is welcoming new people into our parish family. When new faces appear I wonder who they are, what they are looking for, what gifts they bring, how we can help them feel included, whether we can meet their spiritual needs.
Such responses to comings and goings, beginnings and endings, are not unique to me or to parish priests. We ALL experience them. They are a natural and expected part of life. It’s just that “comings and hellos” are usually so much better than “goings and good-byes.”
Look at the disciples. They were so excited when Jesus came into their lives. He brought so much newness, so much hope, so much love, so much companionship... The disciples followed him everywhere. They couldn’t get enough of him. Then it happened. It was time for him to move on. To go to another place. To leave them. How would they ever manage? Who could ever take his place? Life would be dull and unfulfilled without him.
Jesus, of course, knew that they would manage quite well without him. He knew that life would be anything but dull. In fact, it would be very challenging. ...That’s because Jesus knew that God would not leave the disciples orphaned. That God was planning to send them someone else to fill the void left by his departure.
Listen again to what Jesus told them, only this time from a paraphrase written by Eugene Peterson in The Message. Jesus says,
I will talk to the Father and he’ll provide you with another Friend so that you will always have someone with you. This Friend is the Spirit of Truth. The godless world can’t take him in because it doesn’t have eyes to see him, doesn’t know what to look for. But you know him already because he has been staying with you, and will even be IN you!
I will not leave you orphaned. I’m coming back. In just a little while the world will no longer see me, but you’re going to see me because I am alive and you’re about to come alive. At that moment you will know absolutely that I’m in my Father, and you’re in me, and I’m in you.
Jesus said these things to the disciples before his death. We hear them now, in the weeks between his Resurrection and the coming of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost. As we do, we are reminded that Jesus’ promises came to fulfillment. After his death, the disciples did see Jesus alive again. They learned that death is not the end of life, but a transition to another phase of life – in this case, a more glorious life.
Nevertheless, during the time between the Resurrection and the Ascension, Jesus wasn’t with them in the way he was before. His new spiritual body was different. He came and went. They couldn’t grasp and hold him as they once did. Despite all the glory there was still something important missing in their lives – the constant physical closeness with one they loved so dearly and on whom they had grown to depend.
What could fill such a gap? Not anything they knew of. Certainly no material thing could fill it. NO other person could fill it. I mean, who could ever fill Jesus’ shoes? Then again, who can ever fill anyone else’s shoes? Each person is unique. Each person brings his or her unique gifts. My relationship with Deb is not the same as my relationship with Libbie. My relationship with my son Jeff is not the same as my relationship with my son Eric. Your relationship with me is not the same as your relationship with Michael. Your relationship with your next rector won’t be either. No person can ever fill any other person’s shoes.
HOWEVER, there is one whose shoes will never need to be filled. One who will never leave us. One who brings new life when we think there is no new life. That ONE is God – God who created us, God who came to us in Jesus, and God who abides with us and in us forever. This gift is God’s Holy Spirit, God’s eternal presence. This is given to us in Baptism and never abandons us.
“Well, that may be so,” you say? “But that doesn’t make up for the loss I still feel over my husband’s death. It doesn’t make up for the family who is moving to Virginia, or the son who is moving to Connecticut with my granddaughters. It surely doesn’t take away the pain. I can’t touch the Holy Spirit. I can’t hug the Holy Spirit. I can’t look the Holy Spirit in the eyes...”
It’s true that the presence of the Holy Spirit doesn’t make up for other losses. It doesn’t eliminate pain. Pain is part of our humanity. It is the way we know that something is wrong, that something is missing. Pain keeps us in touch with our bodies and souls and minds. When we experience it we know we have to do something about it. So we go to the doctor, or the gym, or the psychologist. We take a bereavement course. We change our job. But most of all, we seek God’s help.
Jesus said to the disciples, “I am alive and you are about to come alive in a way you could never imagine. You are about to come alive through the gift of the Spirit. How will the Spirit do that? ...In many, and varied ways...
Sometimes the Spirit helps us come to realize that we need to apologize to someone we’ve hurt in order to free ourselves from the pain of alienation. Sometimes the Spirit prods us to change our lifestyle. Sometimes the Spirit opens a door to something new in our lives. Or she brings new people into our lives that fill other needs.
Most importantly, the Spirit teaches us to do what Christ commanded: to love others as Christ loved us. It is only when we allow God’s Holy Spirit to turn our attention from ourselves and our pain, to loving others, that we truly find new life. That’s what gives the Holy Spirit a real body – one we can touch and feel and hug. That’s what makes us truly alive. It worked for the disciples. It works for us.
I started this sermon by telling you how I get tears in my eyes whenever I hear “Pomp and Circumstance.” How it always makes me think of graduations – times when I’ve said good-by to important parts of my life. What I did not say is that it doesn’t take long before I also remember that graduation ceremonies are really “commencement” ceremonies. They are never meant just to be endings, but the celebration of our readiness to begin a new phase of life.
This morning we have the privilege of baptizing a baby – in this case, a baby who has been brought by her parents all the way from the West Coast for this important Sacrament. They brought her here so they could be surrounded by family and friends for this important event in Carmen’s life. Today she will receive a great gift, one I believe to be the most important gift of her life. She will receive the Holy Spirit. As the Spirit enters her, and as she becomes part of this Spirit community that goes back in time and forward in time, one that stretches around the globe, she will receive what she needs to become fully alive no matter what life brings her. All that is needed is for this gift to be nurtured and fed so it can do its work.