Wednesday, June 6, 2018

Ordination of Sarah Horton-Campbell

Sermon for the Ordination of Sarah Horton-Campbell 
Offered by Katherine Henderson
June 3, 2018

Pilgrim UCC, Durham, North Carolina

We are living in reactionary times. In the face of global migration and increasing diversity, we are building literal walls to keep people out. In reaction to civil rights progress, systemic racism emerged in new and insidious forms, including mass incarceration fed by the war on drugs and the school-to-prison pipeline. In response to increasingly successful environmental regulations, false debates emerged about the degree and cause of our ecological sickness and who exactly should pay for collective healing. In response to the incredible rise in wealth in our country over the last century, we became not more generous but more stingy, the rich getting richer while the poor get still poorer. All of these societal reactions stem from a blinding individualism that negates the truth: that we belong to each other, our bodies woven together in the divine tapestry.

This is an urgent moment in the life of our country and our world. Creation itself is groaning, and many are turning away in despair. But we, as Christians, are the guardians of an ancient story of hope and resilience. Our story is about both utter failure and ultimate triumph. Our faith is anchored in an embodied God who moves into suffering in order to claim the suffering ones as part of God’s very self. It is this Christianity that can equip us to stand in the fire of the present day, to move toward suffering while holding each other up with the precious scaffolding of hope. It is this story that can give us the strength to stand with people of conscience and compassion of all faiths, and no faith, for the liberation of all.

UCC pastor Matthew Laney wrote in a recent devotional: “At its most basic level, Christianity is not about getting to heaven. Christianity is about heaven coming to us, in and through the person of Jesus Christ.” We need more Christ in the world. Not the white-skinned Jesus of the empire, but the dark-skinned Christ of radical inclusion. The one who lifted up the poor and the vulnerable, and always stood on the side of the marginalized, even when he risked everything to do so. We need more of this Christ in this world, right now. And to do that we need people who will continue to be the church in this broken world, in new and creative ways. We need people who have come alive to their sacred calling. 

How do we know where and how God is calling us to serve? 

In a few minutes, Sarah’s friend Roman will offer a song by Cloud Cult called “To the Great Unknown.” It includes these lyrics:
“Sometimes this life’s a lonely road, but you gotta find it on your own.
So build a happy ship, cuz this livin’ is a trip.
You gotta sing the kind of song that you like singing
...to the Great Unknown."

Amidst all the confusions of our modern life, battered by internal voices of ego and external voices of judgment and pressure, it can seem nearly impossible to find our own true way of singing to the Great Unknown, which some of us call God. But when we find our voice and our song, it literally brings us to life. Only then can we authentically create, love and serve. 

The search for self and vocation are intimately linked. And this is no selfish process, but rather the way we hear God’s call on our lives in order to live into God’s grand vision for Creation. As Howard Thurman put it, what the world urgently needs is people who have come alive.

As I write this, my seven year old is downstairs playing Legos while singing a song from our recent children’s musical at church. “We are all made in the image of God, we are all made in the image of God!” When he gets bored of singing that one, he moves on to another verse: “We are li-ving in the image of God, we are li-ving in the image of God!” There is a critical distinction between these verses. The first is the all-important recognition of our divine likeness: we are all made in the image of God. This is a state of being, if only we can claim it. The second shifts to the active: we are living in the image of God. This is a state of doing.

Vocational discernment requires, first, a recognition of our divine likeness. This is not to say that we are perfect, but rather that we have the capacity to be whole, that our very bodies are holy. This is a state of being. When we know the shape of our sacred soul, then we are best equipped to go out and embody the love of God. This is a state of doing: living in the image of God.

Our denomination believes that every church member has a calling, with unique gifts to share in the church’s ministry. Some of us are called to serve as activists, or lay leaders, or musicians; some of us are called to visit the sick, or gather food for the hungry. And some of us are called to ordained ministry. 

What does it mean to be called to ordained ministry? I offer the following thoughts quite humbly, still being in the midst of this call process myself. I cannot offer the wisdom of a seasoned pastor, decades into pastoral leadership. But I can illuminate what I understand, and what I hope, as someone working daily with these questions.

An ordained minister is authorized by the United Church of Christ to preach and teach the gospel, to administer the sacraments and rites of the church, and to exercise pastoral care and leadership. For some, discerning a call to ordained ministry comes through a vivid moment, like Moses and the burning bush. Others become aware of their call gradually as they go about their life and work. In my experience, this gradual sort of call involves a growing inner knowledge, developed in dialogue with the still, small voice of God. If it were only our own perception we might doubt its validity; but then some of our mentors, friends, family and community members see it too. They might see it before we do. And these people, in cahoots with God, offer us holy breadcrumbs along the path of discernment.

Sarah has followed her holy breadcrumbs faithfully, and they have led her to this moment of ordination. She first heard her call to ministry at age fourteen, thanks to a vibrant youth pastor in her UMC church. Sarah’s discernment process has taken her into studies of social justice and liberation theology, social work and community organizing. She followed her call to DC, immersing herself in the Church of the Saviour’s Discipleship Year. Sarah intuitively understood the potential for young people to embody the radical love of Jesus and disrupt unjust systems, and so she invested the first chapter of her ministry in developing young adults to do that very work. Over the past two decades, Sarah has been following the winding path of discernment, increasingly feeling called to serve as a bridge between the church and the needs of the world. Today, with the loving support of Pilgrim UCC, the Eastern North Carolina Association of the UCC, and many others, she surrenders and accepts the call to ordained ministry.

This process of listening for God’s call on your life, and singing your song in response, is a lifelong journey of commitment and discernment. For you, Sarah, it began two decades ago, and with the grace of God, it will continue for many more. 

In some ways this moment of ordination represents a culmination of vocational discernment; in other ways it is just the beginning. One of my mentors, Rev. Sandy Reimer, is a longtime UCC pastor who served a vibrant and creative church. Sandy told me that ordination is not a one-time event, but rather is “lived out again and again as you recommit your vision, life and energy to the gospel in response to the ever changing call to what the world needs, to what the people you serve need, and to your own abilities to serve.” 

Today we celebrate Sarah’s formal commitment to ordained ministry. Her vocation will continue to evolve from here, providing powerful opportunities to create and serve while walking with people through both great joy and great sorrow. It is a tremendous privilege and honor to be ordained; and it is also a heavy burden, even in the best of times. 

Sarah, my friend: I believe that you will find the sustenance you need to live out your ordination. You have developed regular spiritual practices to connect deeply with self and God. All those gathered here, and many more beyond these walls, commit to continue loving you and giving of themselves to support both your ministry and your personal wellbeing. I believe that your new church plant, Common Life Church & Farm, will be both the best kind of challenge and also a source of spiritual nourishment for you and many others. 

I don’t know how your sacred song will go from here, but I know you have all you need to continue singing in faith and joy. You have answered the call to create sacred community as an ordained minister, binding us together in Christ while the world threatens to tear us apart. Your work is deliciously embodied against our cultural headiness, deliberately collective against our rampant individualism. I know the world will be better for your singing, and that all of us are part of your song, too.

Each of us, here, has a calling and a sacred song. If we have the courage to sing our songs together, our voices will soar into a chorus that shakes the very foundations of power. Against the forces of heartlessness and evil, we sing! Against false idols and selfishness, we sing! Against hopelessness and despair, we sing!

If you listen closely, our new song sounds very much like an old song. It’s an ancient story of suffering and hope, of sacred community, of solidarity and resistance and resurrection. 

The world is aching for this very song. Let us sing!