The hour was coming to an end and my therapist said, "So let me sum up what I've heard this hour. You're afraid to resign even though your husband says he supports you 100% because of not having another job. You're afraid people will think you're a failure and won't like you for listening to God's voice and resigning. You're afraid people will call you a quitter." (She's not only an amazing therapist, she's also well versed in theology.) "You're afraid to talk to your child _________, about ______ and to ____________ about ____________because contrary to all other evidence you're convinced __________will hate you and you'll be known as a terrible mother and in 20 years they'll desert you." (Notice the blanks--I do filter some things.) "You're afraid to call your mother because you haven't talked to her in awhile and you're afraid of what she might say. You're afraid of not having the 'perfect' Christmas because what will that say about you. You're afraid of not being the perfect priest, the perfect wife, the perfect mother so you're killing yourself. You're afraid of, I can't even remember all the things you're afraid of. Sounds to me like you're living your life afraid." "Yeah," I thought silently fuming, "And I'm also afraid of punching my much loved therapist in the face for pointing it out." I hugged her (did I mention I love her) and headed back to the office with "I'm afraid" echoing in my mind.
I sat at my desk reading and re-reading the Gospel for Advent 4. (Luke 1:26-38) This advent season I have been preoccupied (read obsessed) with Mary and Joseph and understanding their relationship. I was thinking about how afraid they must have been--both of them. It kept going through my mind, "Mary was afraid and she said yes anyway. Joseph despite his probable fear supported Mary 100% as she stepped out in faith despite her fear. He was an amazing man and a model of discipleship, marriage and faith." And then that other annoying voice--you know the one that has the voice of my therapist but is in my head said, "Yeah, kind of like Chris. But you're too afraid." Before I knew what my hands were doing I texted Chris to "make sure" he supported me and then sent an email to the bishop asking for a meeting after the holidays to discuss what I'd decided through prayer and discernment. (He also knew I was struggling with this but contrary to my annoying therapist he was silently praying for and supporting me not pointing out my fear and weaknesses!) Within five minutes I got a text from him (yep we have a cool, hip bishop here in the Diocese of Ky), "Can you come to the office now?" I guess he did know I allow fear to rule my life and he was not going to let my moment of courage go unnoticed.
(PSA for all clergy--if you need your bishop to respond immediately put in the subject line of an email "Discernment decision")
The next 5 days were a blur. I resigned to my rector; we told the vestry; and the letter went out to the congregation. Every step of the way I was and am afraid; every step of the way my heart grieves and yet recognizes I am listening to and responding to God despite my fear. And every step of the way that has been supported by so many people around me. I give thanks for the many many clergy friends who have reached out to me meeting me for drinks and coffee during this very busy season when they really didn't have the time. I give thanks for the friends and family in Louisville and beyond that have reached out to love and support me with calls, emails, texts, and facebook posts-I even give thanks for that annoying therapist who I love dearly. And I give thanks that Father Jon put me in the pulpit Advent 4 even though I was so afraid.
Advent 4 Sermon (Inspired by a commentary I read that wouldn't leave me)
This advent season I can't stop thinking about Mary and Joseph and how their lives so quickly changed. Perhaps it's because Chris and I just celebrated our 21st anniversary on Thursday or perhaps it's because we just sent our first to college this fall, but my heart has been nostalgic and full of admiration for the faith of both Mary and Joseph and how they responded to God--how they went from being a young betrothed couple thinking they would live a quiet life to this.
Twenty one years ago I, a recent graduate with a graduate degree in psychology, married a teacher and coach. Our plans included Chris moving into administration and probably becoming a head master of a boarding school where I could be the school psychologist and we could rear our four children spaced out every 3 years. Perhaps the only thing that stayed true to our plan was the 4 children--of course they were born in 4 1/2 years as opposed to my "planned" spacing. I can tell you I never dreamed we would be living in Louisville and I'd be a priest (I probably wouldn't have gotten married in December if I knew that part). So this season I have been thinking about Mary and Joseph--I think so often Joseph gets left out as a model of faithful discipleship and instead just gets a supporting role. But he was a faithful disciple--he stayed with Mary despite the ridicule he could have received from the community. He wasn't and isn't just an extra in the story--
But there are 3 points about Mary and today's Gospel I would like to focus on. (So those of you who want to know when the sermon is almost over, it's when I say, 'and third') First Mary is called the favored one. Favored? Think about this for a minute. The angel comes to Mary and calls her favored and then goes on to tell her she is going to conceive out of wedlock--the favored one is going to risk humiliation, possible rejection from Joseph, and really her life. In those days Joseph had every right to stone her to death for becoming pregnant not by him. The favored one had to tell her parents, Joseph and ultimately the community would know too. The favored one had to give birth in a barn and then rear and love this child Jesus and eventually follow him to the cross where she saw her son ridiculed and crucified. I'm not so sure I want that kind of favoritism.
But what it does tell us (besides being a really good argument against the prosperity gospel) is that being the favored one, the faithful one, does not guarantee an easy life. It doesn't mean health and wealth will be heaped upon you. It doesn't mean it's easy living but it does mean that responding to God's call despite the risks, despite the fear, means that in some way, perhaps in ways we can't even begin to imagine and with a power we don't even recognize, we too might play a part in God's plan for the healing and reconciliation of the world.
Second, Mary asks, "How can this be?" And I imagine she also thought, "and what am I going to tell my parents? Tell Joseph?" I wonder if after Mary said yes she had moments of doubt and fear. I think she did; Mary, the favored one, was human and I cannot imagine anyone saying yes to this and not having times of grief for what her life might have been (the life she planned--the simple quiet life), times of doubt, times of fear. Those words, "How can this be?" in a split second changed her life and changed the world. We too have times we utter those words--we get a terminal diagnosis and we say, "how can this be?"; we lose a job, a relationship comes to an end; a transfer happens--even in joyful but unexpected moments-- promotions, pregnancies (Chris every 9 months when I told him I was pregnant again said, "How can this be?") we say, "how can this be?" and our world changes. The path we thought we were living, would continue to live, takes a totally new direction and we follow the path carrying with us our doubt, our fear, and our faith.
And third, (almost over ya'll) the angel Gabriel departed. And Mary was left to go tell her parents, to tell Joseph--not knowing if she would be killed--I think probably feeling very scared, very alone. The light had been surrounding her; the presence of God through the angel was clear; the strong presence of God warmed her, strengthened her, gave her courage, and then seemed to leave her and she was left to live out the 'yes' she had given. I suspect many of us here today have had those moments when we powerfully felt the presence of God; we heard God clearly and we responded, and I suspect many of us have also had those moments when we felt like we said yes; we stepped out in faith and God disappeared and we were alone--we felt alone and possibly afraid, possibly angry, possibly sad, feeling deserted as we embraced this new path. It may feel that way, but just as God stayed with Mary, God stays with us. Last week I talked about how we as Christians are called to bring the presence of and love of God to those places of darkness and brokenness in the world. We are called to bring the sure and certain hope that God remains with us even when it doesn't feel like it, even when all 'evidence' points to the contrary. God is with us when we cry out, "how can this be?" and God remains with us when we live out the answer. Amen
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