A Reminder
Sometimes it’s good to have a backup. That’s what I was thinking when I asked a
good friend to be on standby for our Canterbury eucharist. Thankfully, this friend had the foresight to
ask for permission to supply as that is the proper thing to do when visiting
from out of town. You see, I wasn’t
exactly in the place to be thinking about those kinds of details and niceties,
just a couple of days removed from the death of my brother. I knew at a deep level that I needed to be at
our weekly eucharist, I just wasn’t
certain I’d be able to celebrate (which, if I’m being honest, is an
embarrassing thing to admit.) Anyway, I
made it through the service for the most part, preaching a short homily to
myself (my fellow preachers will understand,) exploring the range of my voice
strength and tenor during the prayers of the people, and finally recovering
enough to plow through Eucharistic Prayer A. I had made it through, I thought.
Enter my dear friend, who stepped in
right as I was about to pronounce God’s blessing on our community. He called me and my best friend, a Canterbury
alum and good friend of my brother, to the center of our space, despite my
protest, and asked the entire community to gather around us. He prayed for healing and comfort for my friend
and I, and then commissioned our students to share in our process of pain and
healing.
This was a humbling, albeit crucial,
moment for myself and our community. It
reminded our students, and their chaplain, that ours is a shared ministry first
and foremost. No degree, no amassing of
years or experience, no books read, or title conferred enable or equip any
minster more than another if we are rooted in the healing and transformative
love of Jesus Christ. I, for one, am
grateful for this reminder.