Sermon by The Rev. Martha Kreamer at the Ordination of Marie Butterbaugh

Sermon at the Ordination of Marie Butterbaugh

11 AM January 22, 2010

St. John’s Pensacola

Thank you Marie, and thank you, St. John’s, for the opportunity to be present at this glorious occasion!  What I most remember about my own ordination 9 years ago was how heavy the all the hands were when the bishop and priests mashed down on my head, and how the air seemed to have a different texture: it felt both viscous and sparkly, like soda bubbles.

I hope you remember more than that, because you have chosen a rich mix of Scripture and music to mark a beautiful beginning to your ministry as a priest. This is an occasion full of rejoicing:  you have reached a goal, after a long and winding road that brought you into the Episcopal Church, and then into hospital chaplaincy, to the diaconate and finally now to the priesthood.   A hard road, traveled faithfully in answer to your call.

Your new vocation is one full of promise and potential, but it also contains impediments and pitfalls. People will place on you their hopes –and their fears, their needs and also their desires.  They will place on you their expectations: both reasonable and unreasonable.

As my friend David Meginness said at my ordination—here is what people expect of a priest, in the form of a want ad:

“Wanted: New Minister.   Should be able to preach the full counsel of God each week, exhorting, teaching, and motivating, but without offending anyone, and at the end of ten minutes exactly, sit down.  Must serve as competent manager, teacher, evangelist, writer, social worker, case manager, counselor, spiritual advisor, recruiter, volunteer coordinator, gracious social host, and decorative figure-head at public functions.  An in‑depth knowledge of computers is recommended, with particular emphasis on word processing, data base management, and desktop publishing.  Applicant will demonstrate artistic sensibilities, and knowledge of gardening and building maintenance.    Will serve as theologian in residence, scrupulous keeper of the church traditions, and creative innovator. It is desired that the new minister will lead us to see things in a new way, explore new ideas— but of course, take care to do things the way we’ve always done them.  Will respond to all emergencies, being on call twenty‑four hours a day, make fifteen visits a day to church members, spend twenty hours a week evangelizing the unchurched, attend all church conferences and diocesan meetings, and maintain regular office hours. . . .”

Nine years ago, when I heard that list, I thought surely David was exaggerating!  Now,…. not so much! It is an impossible task for us mere human beings.  Thankfully the scriptures Marie has chosen point to a different perspective—a counterbalance of hope, without which we might fall into despair.

Isaiah’s vision captures both the fear and wonder surrounding anyone confronted with God’s call.  Prophet or priest, lay or ordained, it is a life changing experience.

Picture a giant throne room –way, way bigger than the Lincoln Memorial….dwarfing the mere human, Isaiah, who is cowering in the corner in fear.   Little Isaiah’s nostrils fill with incense, as the Presence of the Holy permeates every nook and cranny of the temple, like smoke.   From the giant throne in the center of the room come rays of blinding light, and the glory of it illuminates the whole earth.  The Lord God of Hosts sits on the throne, high and lifted up, as fiery seraphim dance in the air, hovering in six-winged attendance.

The hem of his garment flows out, filling the temple with majesty. Isaiah’s chest resonates with music –the harmony of a thousand angel choirs:  HOLY,    HOLY,    HOLY.   An earthquake shakes the massive stone pillars, and the small human figure looks down with horror at his own sin and wickedness, now clearly revealed in the divine light. As the enormity of what is happening to him begins to sink in, Isaiah knows he is done for!  For one who sees the living God will surely die.  He manages to gasp:  Woe is me!  I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell among a people of unclean lips.

Indeed, and, there’s the rub.  The job of speaking on God’s behalf to God’s people is frankly an impossible one.  But, thanks be to God, through our Lord and savior Jesus Christ, we are not left entirely to our own devices.  In Isaiah’s vision, the fiery angel flies to the latest press secretary God has chosen, touching his lips with the flaming coal. God has made the unclean lips, clean. Isaiah’s sin has been cauterized by the holy.  God has made the one who cowered in fear, now full of courage.   When the Holy one calls out: “Who will go for us; whom shall I send?”

God’s newest prophet answers, “Here am I, send me.”

Here am I, send me.  That’s a dangerous thing to say, whether you are clergy or laity.  You can never tell what will happen after that.  One thing for sure that happens: all our foibles and flaws are illuminated in divine light. Our lives can get real complicated, from that point on, just as Isaiah’s did in his vision.  But God’s promises are always fulfilled, and God will equip those he calls, to do the work he has given us to do.   Marie has answered the call of God, who promises to equip her for the impossible vocation of priesthood, just as Isaiah was equipped for the prophetic ministry.

Your ministry, Marie, won’t be entirely without pain. There will inevitably be the occasional Woe is me!  But our hope—our help—is in the name of the Lord, the Good Shepherd.   In a few moments the Bishop will ask you, Marie, Will you undertake to be a faithful pastor to all whom you are called to serve?  That word pastor is related to the word shepherd—they both mean someone who tends a flock.  Chapter 10 of the Gospel according to John reminds us that Jesus Christ is the Good Shepherd, the one who lays down his life for the sheep.   As long as we pastors remain mindful of that fact, we can function.   To quote one pastor, “There is only one Good Shepherd:   it ain’t you, and it ain’t me.”

In thinking about the essentials of my role as pastor, Marie, and yours—well, one of the best models I can think of was our dog, AL, who died of old age at 14.  Al was a border collie—registered, championship stock—and he was bred and born to herd sheep.  Unfortunately, his inconsiderate owners were fresh out of sheep, but he tried to make up for that as best he could, by herding other dogs, cats, lawn mowers or anything that rolled.  But that wasn’t his fault. The quality that I most admired about him was that he trusted his masters absolutely. He was completely tuned in to what his masters wanted.  He would maintain eye contact, and seemed to know what we were thinking, even when he appeared to be asleep.  He would follow our signals, and often knew what we wanted him to do without our having to say anything.   He was fiercely loyal—single-mindedly doing his best to please us.  In his old age, he would just follow us from room to room, lying down between us, in order to stay close.

As human pastors, perhaps we could do worse than to relate to the image of sheepdog.  Our job is to help the Good Shepherd care for his sheep.  In chapter 21, Jesus asks Peter: do you love me? Then feed my sheep.  Three times he asks it:  and three times, when Peter assures Jesus that he loves him, Jesus gives Peter the charge: tend my sheep.   To do this, pastors, like sheepdogs, must stay in relationship with the Good Shepherd, maintaining constant contact with the eyes of our heart.  Only with awareness of, and absolute loyalty to, our Master’s wishes will we be able to carry out our task.  The key is to stay close: to stay in relationship with the Lord God of Hosts who will purify our motives and ministry.

And so, Marie, I will give you and St. John’s the same charge St. Paul gave to the Phillipians: Finally beloved: whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.  Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God.  And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.

© all rights reserved: The Rev. Martha Kreamer, Vicar

Episcopal Church of the Advent

Lillian, AL