The Rev. Noah Van Niel
The Chapel of the Cross
May 24th, 2020
Easter VII (A): Acts 1:6-14; Psalm 68: 3-10; 1 Peter 4:12-14; 5:6-11; John 17: 1-11
Of all the social losses this pandemic has caused us, one of the most disappointing, has been the loss of graduation season. Schools are doing their best, but I’m missing the caps, the gowns, the pomp, the circumstance. Especially, this weekend, Memorial Day weekend, which, where I’m from, is the pinnacle of graduation season. Seemingly every college and university in the Boston area—and there are a lot—would squeeze their commencement ceremonies into this holiday weekend, bringing an air of celebration to the entire city. Alas, this year, the atmosphere is anything but celebratory. But, though we have had to forgo most of the traditional elements of graduation this year, there is one aspect of the graduation season that has persisted, even in the virtual realm: the speeches. Oh the speeches. Some are great. Some are funny. Some are endless. But say what you will about them, people go crazy for them. They become headline news: who said what, where? People are hungry, it seems, this year maybe more than ever, to soak up the wisdom offered to our young people as they head out into an uncertain and at times dangerous world.
This weekend also marks the seventh and final Sunday of the Easter season. The Resurrected Christ has been appearing to his disciples for weeks now, and it is time for him to ascend to Heaven and take his place at the right hand of God. But not before he promises to send an Advocate, a comforter, a companion, who will guide the Disciples in his absence. This is what we will celebrate next week, at the jubilant feast of Pentecost, with the arrival of the Holy Spirit. So this Sunday, sitting between the feast of the Ascension and the feast of Pentecost is a something of a transitional Sunday. You might even say, today is like the Disciples’ commencement. It marks the end of Jesus’ hand holding and they are sent forth into an uncertain and dangerous world.
Which made me wonder…if Jesus were giving a commencement address…what would he say??
Greetings class of 33 AD!! We made it!! It’s such an honor to be up here speaking to you all. I want to thank my mom and dad and dad for all their love and support. I wouldn’t be here without them. And I want to thank each of you, my disciples, for being with me through these last few years. It’s a miracle that I’m standing here before you, given everything we’ve been through. I am so glad to be able to address you one last time. I love you guys.
Class of 33 the past few years have been something else; like something the world has never seen. We had some amazing times and some tough times. We’ve grown together, bonded, blessed by all those experiences, good and bad. Remember that time we fed all those people with just that kid’s lunch? That was awesome. Or when I cast all those demons into those pigs and they ran off the cliff? That was intense. And honestly, things were looking pretty grim towards the end there, I wasn’t sure y’all were going to stick with me. But, thanks be to God, we came out alright.
Anyways, I don’t have time to recount all the amazing things that have happened over the last three years, but I know you remember them. So I really just have one message for you today: share it. Share what you saw and heard. Be my witnesses. Go out into the city streets and into the countryside and across the ocean and tell people that you know God because you knew me. Proclaim that good news to all the nations. Tell them everything that happened between us. The world needs to know. And I need to know you will talk about this. Promise me that. Promise me I won’t be forgotten because you were too shy or too scared or too selfish and you just kept all this good news to yourself. Promise me that the proclamation of peace and justice, forgiveness and love won’t end with you. Because, look, it’s up to you now. I don’t need you to be followers anymore, I need you to be leaders. You know what I’m about, you know what I’ve been teaching you. You have seen me come back from the dead, so you know how powerful and amazing God is. Tell people! Share that good news.
I know it won’t be easy. But you’re ready. You can do it. And don’t worry, you’re not going to be alone in this. You have each other and you’ll have the Holy Spirit to help you out, I promise. But remember, what you know could save someone’s life. It could bring them hope when they’re in despair, bring them comfort when they’re grieving, strength when they are afraid, it can bring joy and purpose to their life. You’ve experienced that. I know you have. You have been given a great gift: the gift of the knowledge of God through me. Give this gift to others. Go out there and do it. That’s all I’m asking of you.
Friends, before I go, I would like to close with a prayer. (You know me, always praying.) But I know no better way to tell you how much I love you and want you to succeed in this good work. So, would you pray with me, one last time? “Father, I have made your name known to those whom you gave me…They were yours, and you gave them to me, and they have kept your word…and have believed that you sent me…And so, Father, now I am no longer in the world, but they are in the world…Holy Father, protect them in your name…that they may be one, as we are one. Amen.”
Alright, Class of 33. Be good to one another. Keep the faith. And remember it’s not “Goodbye”—it’s “I’ll see you later.” Thank you all very much.
Well, he may not have said exactly that. But I do think Jesus would remind us that we are the ones responsible for sharing the good news of God in this world. We have inherited that great commission. As we go about our life, the world needs to hear from us about what it is and who it is we build our life upon. And the pandemic is no excuse to stop this good work. In fact, it may actually be the excuse we need to start. In this time of isolation, it is even more incumbent upon us to fight back against the temptation to turn inward in our lives by making a point to reach out to others. We’ve been doing this already. It’s been fascinating to see how rather than shut us down, in some ways this lock-down has opened us up; opened the doors of the church, even though they are closed; opened our hearts even though we are far apart. We have been given a renewed desire and ability to connect with people and more opportunities than ever to talk about what really matters.
I recognize that talking about our faith and inviting other people into it can be uncomfortable. But it is the one thing Jesus wanted to make sure his Disciples did before he left them. You might not feel like you’re prepared for such conversations, but you are. You know what God has done for you. You know your story. And you know something of His, too. Start there. You need not express it elegantly, or persuasively. The only requirements are honesty and humility. And hey, the best part is that right now they don’t even have to leave the comfort of their own home to come to church with you!
When we set out on this program year with the theme of “God’s Story, Our Story,” this Easter season was going to be a season to practice telling our stories, to share our experiences of faith with one another. Well, that was a long time ago, and things didn’t quite go according to plan. But there’s no reason we can’t still take up that theme, and tell those who will listen how our story is God’s story. This is our commencement commission; Jesus’ final charge to us, his disciples. So, as you go about your life, even in these uncertain and dangerous days, go with the story of healing and hope on your lips, and go forth in the name of Christ, saying, “Thanks be to God.” And Amen.