Decisions, Decisions

Pentecost Sunday; Yr. C, May 19, 2013

Genesis 11:1-9; Acts 2:1-21;  Psalm 97; John 14:8-17, (25-27)

Sermon preached at St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church

            It’s Pentecost Sunday a day in our church when we recognize the gift of the Holy Spirit.  One of the participants in our clergy Bible study this past week said, “Why do we celebrate Pentecost as the day when the Holy Spirit descended on humanity when we believe that the Holy Spirit has always been a part of the trinity?”  There was silence.  Then a colleague said, “You’re right … but the feast of Pentecost is the moment when the church recognized it.”

            I was surprised how many of my Baptist colleagues found the idea of the Holy Spirit somewhat foreign to their congregations.  I like the idea of the Holy Spirit.  I have a sense of the Spirit at work when I feel those nudges that prompt me to do something that feels a little risky, or calls me out of my comfort zone.  When the same thing pops into my head in different situations three times, something in me starts to pay attention.  I call it the nagging of the Spirit. 

            I wrote in the Herald last time about beginning a CPE supervisory training program in June.  I have thought about becoming a certified supervisor for some time, but for various reasons it never happened.  Then, out of the blue, the Director of the CPE program sent me an e-mail asking if I’d consider coming to an exploratory meeting at Strong in April.  I decided to go.  At the meeting, we discovered that they wanted to start a program in June.  We had to decide if we wanted to be in the group by the end of April. 

            What to do?  What to do?  My life is pretty full.  Did I really want to jump into another “process”?  My process toward ordination hadn’t been an easy one, and it ended up taking much longer than I had anticipated.  There was tuition involved and I would have to go looking for money.  Did I really want to do this?  I wasn’t sure.  So I did what I always do when I’m not sure if something is of God.  I began talking about it with other people I trusted … testing the spirits, as Paul says.

            I talked to my wife.  I talked to my bishop.  I talked with our wardens, and then with the vestry.  Then I wrote about it in the Herald.  I talked about the vision, about a Clinical Pastoral Education program housed at St. Stephen’s that would help to train pastors by offering clinical sites in urban programs, instead of in a hospital.  Chaplain interns could do their clinical time in places like Sojourner House or Open Door Mission or St. Joseph’s House of Hospitality or Bethany House or an urban parish.  The idea seemed to fit our mission and vision.  Most expressed some concern about whether I really had the time to commit to the vision, but none gave it an outright “no”.  They were right.  Time is a factor to consider.

            As the date for making a decision creeped closer, I still hadn’t decided what to do.  I mentioned the tuition in my conversation with the Bishop.  I told him I was planning to use my Continuing Education money from St. Stephen’s to help pay it, use some of my own money and apply for a Commission on Ministry grant as well.  Most of it would have to come from the grant.  I wasn’t sure I would get enough.  Without hesitation, he offered to make up the difference.  “I think this kind of program would be good for the diocese”, I said.  “I do too”, he answered.   Hmmm ...

            That same week, I got an e-mail from the secretary at Two Saints.  Michael found a box of notebooks with stuff in it.  He wants to know if you want them.  “What’s in the notebooks”, I asked.  “He thinks it’s CPE stuff.”  “Can’t be”, I responded.  “I wouldn’t have left that stuff behind.  I’ll look at them the next time I’m over.”  I promptly forgot all about them.  The next week, a box with five or six three ring binders appeared on the coffee table in my office.  A sticky note was on the top flap.  “These are the notebooks.”  It was signed, Nancy.  They sat there for a day or two before I looked inside.  Sure enough.  They were all my reports and evaluations from my CPE units.  Just the stuff I would need to have if I were going to apply for the program.  Those binders must have been sitting up in my old office for the last three and a half years, and now they show up … right when they’re needed.  Strange.

            I decided to go meet with the supervisor who I would be working with in the program.  I told him about my plans for sabbatical next summer.  I’ll be away for three months.  Will that be a problem?  “We’ll have to discuss it with the others”, he said, “but I would guess you could take a leave of absence from the program.”  There have to be three students to run the program.  If we only have three, and you leave … we could come up short.  So the decision day arrived, and we all called in.  Our group had grown to five.  Interesting.

            Is that the Spirit at work?  Perhaps.  So I put my hat in the ring.  The next five or six months is a time of discernment.  I will be meeting with my supervisor monthly, writing a theological paper, and putting into writing a document that shows my pastoral competency.  I will also broaden my conversation partners.  Before I pay any money, I thought perhaps I should get a head start. 

            I called Lauren Renaletta, Director of the Episcopal Senior Life Communities.  “Might you be interested in having a chaplain intern or two at several of your facilities?” I asked.  “I’d love to talk about it”, he said.  Awesome.  Last Sunday, Brian McNulty came up to me at the end of the service. He had read the Herald, and asked if I might consider Rochester Psych Center as a site for a chaplain intern.  Cool.  At a meeting with the Sisters of St. Joseph on Wednesday, I asked the principal at Nazareth Elementary School if she would be interested in having a chaplain intern at the school.  “Well … yes!”, she said.  And one of the other sisters at the table added, “Let us show you some of our other ministry sites!”  Nice.

            Last week I applied for the COM grant.  When I talked to the COM chairperson, she said that I might not get all the money I was requesting.  I told her that anything would help, and the bishop had offered to pitch in too if they couldn’t give all that I requested.  Thursday I got a check in the mail … for the full amount.  Amazing. 

Is that the Spirit speaking?  What do you think?  Has anything like this ever happened to you?  Think about it.  You’re not sure whether to step out into something or not. Maybe it’s a new job, or just a change in your company.  Maybe it’s whether to take a trip or go see someone you love.  Maybe it’s about the timing of a change or about making a significant purchase.   You start testing the Spirits.  You mention it to a spouse, a friend, or a co-worker.  You pray about it.  You’re looking for an answer.  You start paying more attention.  You’re open.  You’re seeking.  That’s all the space the Spirit needs, just the tiniest of invitations.  You find that things start falling into place a little more easily than you might have expected.  Almost as if … dare I say … it was meant to be.  Or it definitely doesn’t, and there’s not energy or excitement in it at all.  It takes a few days, or a few weeks, or even a few months or years … but it happens and we hear.  The Spirit works in us.  That’s the promise.

[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.  When we’re hearing the Spirit we experience that peace, even if the path before us presents a challenge or pushes us beyond our comfort zone.  If it’s the Spirit talking, it feels right.  It brings us inner peace.  

Over the next few months, the vestry and I will be doing some discerning, some further testing of the spirits.  I will have to give up some things that I am currently doing in order to follow this path.  The vestry has agreed to help me discern which things are vital to our mutual life and should be done by me, as well as which things are vital but can or even should be done by someone else.  I would guess that there will also be things that aren’t really vital at all and can be discarded.  It’s my hope that this is a spiritual process.  One that slows us down to listen, one that encourages us to speak honestly in love, one that puts the Spirit at the center so that we can hear one another clearly.  After all, the church is God’s, it only makes sense to include God in our decisions.  So I ask your prayers for the vestry and for me as we begin this process together in faith.  The people gathered at that first fiery Pentecost heard the Good News … of God’s love and forgiveness … of  God’s presence and power.  We can too.

Amen.