In praise of young women

A sermon preached in celebration of two young women of Faith on the occasion of their Rite 13 Ceremony, at Faith Episcopal Church, January 15, 2006.

When you give someone a gift, the hard thing is to let them use it as they will. Granted, you might have some use or direction in mind but all you can do is suggest or let the gift’s nature be its own suggestion. The gift of fine wine is usually intended for the enhancement of a good meal not a chugging contest. The gift of a car might be for transportation and enjoyment but not drag racing. The gift of womanhood today is celebrated for our beautiful girls Kelsie and Laura with some hopes and dreams for how it will be used.

The ceremony for the entry into manhood and womanhood, Rite 13 is sometimes referred to as a Christian bar mitzvah. It is that acknowlegment of the transition from childhood into physical maturity. It marks the beginning of the journey to adulthood. It scares fathers to death. They no longer look like daddy’s little girl and daddy’s not the only one to notice that. For parents, this passage calls for some sort of letting go which will be symbolized at the end of the ceremony by Laura and Kelsie leaving their seats with their parents and taking their seats over on this side with their peers.

The real meaning of this day is found in the words bar or bat mitzvah which literally mean son or daughter of the commandments. Samuel was called in the middle of the night by God to know himself as a son of the commandments. What that means is first of all to know the commandments or will of God, to understand the wisdom in them and then always keep them around you like a cloak. To know the commandments is hear in them how to be in right relationship with God and the rest of creation. What God wanted of Samuel was not to hide out in the Temple wrapped in the commandments but to be out in the world, as a living example of how to be, living, loving and taking the commandments into the future.

Jesus calls out to those who would become his disciples “Follow me” which in the Greek is actually “come after me.” What I hear in that is not “do everything exactly as I do” or “do only what I did” but “move into the future as I would.” Jesus knew that he would not always be here so he tried to prepare those around him to take what he taught and apply it to the world. That’s kind of like the work to get all of this newly installed wood stained. It started with the beams, which are cedar and pine. The cedar in particular was very dry and soaked up the stain quickly. The natural red in the wood was brought out by the color of the stain. The big laminated pine support beams took the same stain a bit differently – they didn’t have as much natural red to bring out. Trying to get this oak to match the reddish color of the ceiling beams using the same stain was frankly impossible. We used the same colors but had to combine them differently to get a mixture that works. The birch of the paneling will require the same process. It will take a different mix, a dash of creativity, to achieve the desired effect. You can’t just slap on the same coat of stain and get what you want.

Jesus had to trust those who came after him to apply what they had learned. He had to trust them to be children of the commandments to love God and to love each other and to love those problematic neighbors. He gave them what they needed and then he set them free to find the right ways to apply it in the world. The early disciples of Jesus scattered all over the Middle East and had to apply the commandments and teachings to very different cultures. That takes creativity.

One of my favorite poets, Rabindranath Tagore, has some perfect words for today – for Kelsie and Laura.

“Free me as free are the birds of the wilds, the wanderers of unseen paths.
Free me as free are the deluge of rain, and the storm that shakes its locks and rushes on to its unknown end.
Free me as free is the forest fire, as is the thunder that laughs aloud and hurls defiance to darkness.”

Creative power is not power to replicate – to make copies of something that already exists. Creative power makes new things. The power to procreate is much more than cloning. Cloning may be technologically complicated but it is ultimately boring and pointless. It is not creative; it is merely an exercise in copying. The creation of a new person is an ultimate expression of creativity because every new person is a unique expression of the image of God.

Journeying toward adulthood is to take that power seriously and to recognize that human creativity is more than the ability to make babies. It is the capacity to find new paths and walk them in new ways. The gift of each new generation is their willingness to find new ways to approach challenges and each other. There is never a moment that is exactly like one before. Stubbornly insisting that the world stays the same will create a new future.

Each moment holds in it the seed of the future – the unseen paths. “Free me as free are the birds of the wilds, the wanderers of unseen paths. Laura and Kelsie and all young people are called to unseen paths – those which are unknown to their parent’s generation.

It’s the dangers along any path, known or unknown that give parents and a community pause to turn loose the young people so carefully nurtured and sheltered until the moment of passage. Probably because most parents did stupid things on their own journey – it’s truly amazing that any of us make it to adulthood. Remembering those moments of folly it’s good to reflect on what might have encouraged you to say no to tantalizing naughtiness. Would one more warning from your parents or one more school assembly on the dangers of X,Y or Z have motivated you to model citizenship? Probably not. The sort of life and behavior that we might wish for our children has in all probability already been taught. You have given your genes and your examples. At some point young men and women begin to make their own decisions and way in the world.

What we hope for and from these young women, as we simultaneously hold them close and let them go, is that the commandments have taken hold in their hearts. Now supported by loving family and community they will look around the world and imagine new and good things. They will recognize what is harmful and what is evil and full of the knowledge and power of their own creativity they will be as free “as is the thunder that laughs aloud and hurls defiance to darkness.” That’s what it means to be made in the image of God, ready to be in the world to help create a better future. Imagine a world full of people who understand and cherish and honor their creative power. Imagine a world full of young women like Laura and Kelsie who have an idea of how Jesus would have them respond to hunger and poverty and meanness in the world. That’s the kind of world I want to live in – full of strong young women hurling defiance at the darkness.

Holy Name - True Name

A sermon preached at Faith Episcopal Church, January 1, 2006

I would be most surprised if many of you have organized your New Year’s day around celebrating the Feast of the Holy Name. That’s the official designation for January 1^st in our tradition. The eighth day of Christmas was historically known as the Feast of the Circumcision – Jesus, in compliance with Jewish tradition would have had his bris. Not many of will probably dwell on that either! New Year’s Day is football, one final caloric blast of traditional foods and resolutions. It is in the resolutions that we might find some reason to give some thought to names and naming.

I find this a very intriguing subject – one that has played out in interesting ways in my life. Ordination gave me a status as a priest and with it, no end to questions – “What do we call you?” It is often a puzzlement for those who encounter women priests. If guys become “Father” as a conseuence of their ordination – should I not be “Mother?” Of course – but ick! Who wants to do that? Some of my friends at the time of my ordination decided that I should be Father Sharon – the cake even said “Congratulations, Father Sharon.” I liked it because it was a little off center and humorous. As much as I rail at the forced informality of our culture, in the context of my ministry among you, I am truly comfortable being known as Sharon, which is after all the name I was given at my birth and baptism, and therefore, how God knows me. You all seem to have found your own comfort level with whatever you have chosen to call me.

When I was divorced some years ago, I chose not to keep the name that I’d had for 25 years. I also discovered that I was no less comfortable going back to my father’s family name. I knew what I didn’t want to be called but no idea where to go from there. I scoured family genealogical materials and found a fascinating woman name Penelope Von Princen – but as much as I admired her spirit and independence, taking her name seemed over the top. I finally decided that the only thing that I could do was to ask God what my name was – so I prayed. Almost immediately – as if appearing on the computer screen in my brain – I saw it – Gracen – spelled Grace with an “n”. My initial reaction was that it felt almost presumptuous to name myself something that speaks of God’s ultimate gift – grace. I was also aware that having asked, I should be prepared to say thank you for the gift of the name. The amazing thing was that as uncomfortable as all of the other names felt, this one felt just right. So my new name – my true name – was put into my divorce decree and made official by a signature from the judge. No matter what happens in my life from here on – I do not plan to ever change it. I’ve been given my name – now I just have to live up to it.

There are many stories in the Bible about names and naming – starting with Adam – all of the animals were brought to him to see what he would call them. As if something inherent in their being would speak a word that Adam would know. It must have been late in the day when the aardvark came along. I have known people who thought that they were going to name a baby one thing only to meet that child and say – “woah, that’s not your name, you are….” It is intriguing that a name – something that identifies us, that goes before us and announced us, is most often chosen by someone else. I may have chosen Gracen with some help from God, but my parents chose Sharon.

God seems to have little trouble changing people’s names. When something new manifests in a life – it is reflected in their name. Abram becomes Abraham, Sarai becomes Sarah, that scoundrel Jacob wrestles with an angel and is given the name Israel. Saul falls off his horse, blinded by the light of illumination and he comes up Paul.

The twentieth century was a time when many groups of people claimed the right to determine how they would be called. It is from this that I believe part of the politically correct language movement came into being. The nation of Ghana claimed its name after become independent from the British Empire which had always referred to it as the Gold Coast. Other African countries have claimed the same right. The break up of the Soviet Union was the occasion for many regions to say “we are not Soviets or Russians, we are the Ukraine, Belarus and Estonia.”

It is a frequent challenge to know how to refer to ethnic groups. The NAACP was formed when the appellation “colored people” was used. Since then, black, Black American, Afro-American, African-American. People of color is now a broader term that embraces many beautiful pigments. One no longer says “oriental”, Asian is more approved. Latino is preferred over Hispanic. And then there was the whole Ms. thing. In the 1970s the women’s movement challenged the presumption that women should always be known by their marital status. It was also when women began retaining their own names after marriage or hyphenating. I find the term “politically correct” to be slightly off the mark because what all of this says to me is more about respect than being correct. If negative ethnic epithets have finally been understood as impolite at best then maybe we have grown up a little bit. People should not have to suffer being called a name that is offensive to them. So when you find yourself in a linguistic traffic jam, ask for directions. Ask someone “What do you prefer?”

Which a very long, round about way of getting back to New Year’s resolutions and names. Our resolutions are often about how we choose to be known. We may choose to be known or seen as thinner, more physically fit, as better communicators, as someone with a neater desk or any number of things that say “I am better than I was.”

Do you want to be known as a Christian? Do you want your faith to be that inherent qualify that speaks your name? Many of us do not feel called to identify ourselves overtly as Christians, some how that is felt to be either forcing a religious preference on someone or it identifies us with a negative perception attached to the religion that one sees on television. A dear Texas friend of mine shared the story of the vigil at his mother’s hospital bedside as she died. The whole family was gathered and they shared stories, read psalms and as their mother died, they sang and found joy. Their singing was heard outside at the nurses station and when the family finally left the room, one of the nurses who had been surprised by the joyful noise coming from a room that death had visited, asked my friend “Who are you people, what are you?” He looked at her and said, “We’re Christians, we understand death.” That family knows how they want to be called.

Carrie Newcomer is a folk singer from Bloomington, Indiana and one of my favorites. One of her songs is called “My True Name” which made me cry when I first heard it. Carrie says of the song “There is a name that is the essence and combination of all that I am. Whenever that name is known or spoken it is the finest of gifts.” A bit of the song goes:

I have been Betty, Eleanor and Rosie
I’ve been the shamed Magdalene
And if the truth be known, I’ve attempted Saint Joan
Donna, Sarah and Jane
For we all have our heroes and we all have our tormentors
And we’ll play them again and again
But you saw to my center, past every impostor
And you whispered my True Name.

Today on the Feast of the Holy Name, take a moment and look in the mirror and try to see. What would Adam call you? What is your true name?