“Before I formed you
in the womb I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you…” (Jeremiah 1:5a)
“Then the king will say to those at his right hand, ‘Come,
you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from
the foundation of the world; for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and
you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, was naked
and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison
and you visited me.’
“And the king will answer them, ‘Truly I tell you, just
as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you
did it to me.’”(Matthew
25: 34-36, 40)
God calls each of us
across the lifespan through hundreds of thousands of movements and experiences,
joys and struggles, in the places and, most importantly, in the people that
mark our lives.
None can hear and
respond to God’s calling without being changes and inspired, challenges and
formed, confronted and encouraged.
Such is the media through which the Holy Spirit speaks, the holy mingling of God’s grace with the stuff of our everyday living; the alchemy God’s Calling, the mystery of our truest knowing our own deepest gladness meeting the greatest hungers of our world.
In putting together my service of ordination, I prayed to keep my heart open to the leading of the Holy Spirit. And, I kept central in my thought my work among the longing, anxious, grieving hearts who come to the hospital, where I am Chaplain specializing in mental health and perinatal bereavement, to find health, hope and healing for their living.
The service, celebrated on All Saints Day, was dedicated to
the glory of God’s Calling in all our lives, and to my parents, William and Frances
Symonds, raised among the Saints Eternal over three decades. By God’s good
grace, the service somehow wove together a the President of a Lutheran (ELCA) congregation—the
most holy man I know; my Jesuit Spiritual Director of 15 years; dear noble
friends, a Buddhist Bhikkhuni
and Bhante; a reformation hearted Mormon Bishop friend and coworker;
Presbyterians of every sort and station; all leaning upon the good and solid
bones of traditional Reformed worship and the great and classic hymns of the
Church.
As I was driving to my beautiful and blessed service of ordination
my mobile rang. Could I come see a woman whose baby died a while back? On that same drive, a text message from a
friend, could I recommend a therapist for a family member? The following day, a
phone call from an old friend I haven’t seen in years who I had invited to the service,
could I recommend an inpatient treatment facility?
Then on Tuesday, there was a beautiful email from a friend
that had traveled with his wife from Chicago to attend my ordination service. Attached
was a script of a one-man play wrote, and performed on Monday, about the
real-life journey in faith and prayer, healing and friendship of the past 28
months of his beloved wife’s journey with stage-4 cancer. The play celebrates
the fact that she is now cancer free; it celebrates in his gratitude to God and
the rich tapestry of blessed prayers from friends representing more religions
than the Parliament of Word Religions that he credits for her healing. The conclusion
of the play, my friend wrote, was inspired by my blessed and beautiful service.
We are all members of God’s family. I am left wondering, if
there were not two beautiful and blessed celebrations of my ordination last
week: one in the Church which ordained me to Ministry of Word and Sacrament,
Teaching Elder and one in the world where the mystery of my truest knowing and my
own deepest gladness kept meeting up with the greatest hungers of our world.
