“Planning an ordination service is like planning a wedding.” ~ the Rev. Kelsy Brown
“If anyone on the verge of action should judge himself according to the outcome, he would never begin.” ~ Søren Kierkegaard, Fear and Trembling
I knew that I wanted to wait until after the ordination was officially “achieved” to write this blog, to be sure I could speak about the experience still aglow with celebratory numen tremendum (the tremendous sense of the Divine Presence). It really was a joy to plan the service, even if it felt like preparing for a wedding: so many details and people to coordinate; a cast of thousands, a weepy mother, etc. I loved being able to pick the hymns and special music, the scriptures, the many worship leaders, and even to commission a new hymn! I loved knowing that many friends and family would be there and that the church members would be out en force to participate in the solemn festivities. And, as in the midst of preparing for a wedding, there comes a certain point when you realize that the actual day is about more than an individual’s (or an individual couples’) experience. The celebration is for the whole “village” that it took to bring us all to this point in the ministry of the church.
I am truly grateful for all the people that have supported me in this journey of the last 25 years, and I was deeply moved by the outpouring of love, support, and also faithfulness of those who gathered whose trust is in a process and reality bigger than any individual’s efforts.
In the days leading up to the service, once everything was all set, people asked me, “Are you nervous for Sunday?” And I could honestly say, “No. There’s very little for me to do once the service starts. I just need to be present in the moment and take it all in.” That’s what I did. I was moved by the choir’s anthems and by my friend’s preaching, but I was keeping it all together (emotionally). But during the actual service of ordination, at the point when the moderator of the presbytery was asking the constitutional “ordination” questions, I heard these words: Will you pray for and seek to serve the people with energy, intelligence, imagination, and love? If so, say, “I will.”
I found myself choked up, almost not able to answer. I was overwhelmed with the amazing sense of responsibility to pray for the people…and to do so with imagination, intelligence and energy. The apostle Paul says, in his letter to the Galatians, “You know, the only thing that counts is faith energized through love.” I was struck with the sense of the beauty of prayer and for praying for very specific people with very specific needs. What a genuine sense of joy! Prayer is a service that we as Christian people are all called to engage in. Prayer is service, and our service can be our prayer, as we do it with energy, intelligence, imagination and love. I couldn’t think of any greater privilege than to serve out my vocation in loving prayer.
Another profound moment in the service is the “laying on of hands” during which the moderator prays for God’s anointing to bless this transitional point in ministry. With tears welling up in my eyes, I felt my whole body trembling. Rudolf Otto (1869-1937) spoke of the experience of God as a mysterium tremendum et fascinans (a mystery that provokes a sense of awe-inspired trembling and a deep fascination and attraction at the same time). With elders gathered around and with the weight of their hands upon my shoulders, I felt the embrace of God, as if a whole host of angels and the “great cloud of witnesses” were gathered near, singing words of assurance, “Peace, be still, and know that God is in this place. The work of ministry begins anew here today. And every day. Draw near to God.”
Even though I began this journey toward ordination over 25 years ago, it has not been a journey taken alone. Many are they who have walked beside me to this moment. And, the mantel of ministry is only one expression of stepping into Christian vocation. Each of us is called in some way. And even though we might want to weigh the cost of answering God’s calling, none of us truly knows what answering that call might bring us. What we do know is that God promises to be with us, within us, alongside us, and in the midst of us saints’ work of the church. All I am left to say is, “Soli Deo Gloria.” To God alone be the glory.
“I am convinced that God is love, this thought has for me a primitive lyrical validity. When it is present to me, I am unspeakably blissful, when it is absent, I long for it more vehemently than does the lover for his object.”
― Søren Kierkegaard, Fear and Trembling
