Waiting ....

Waiting.

I’ve never been terribly good at it.

As a kid, when I wanted something, I wanted to go buy it right away, and whatever we found first and was in the budget was good enough for me – all much to my bargain-shopping mother’s chagrin.

You can imagine internet shopping, two-day shipping and our instant gratification culture haven’t improved the situation.

Yet, I’m getting to practice waiting a lot lately.

My internship ended at the beginning of September. Now I wait to be called to a church, where I will be ordained and installed as pastor. This is the culmination of a four-year journey of seminary education, a Clinical Pastor Education internship, and a year-long pastoral internship that involved a 45 minute commute.

The entire process is an exercise in waiting … and growing …. and waiting.

As I wait for my first call, reminders that the process is daunting become painful. Loved ones are justifiably interested if there is a call on the horizon.

Yet even this time must be held with the pastoral care of a process that involves hearts and minds and the work of the Spirit. For those who engage in it … and for myself.

Seeking to be called to pastor a congregation is an intimate process – especially when you choose to bring your whole self to it.

So I wait. I wait for the call where my gifts meet with the needs of the congregation. And I believe God’s presence sustains all who participate in the process.

And we wait.

As a nation we wait for the results of a contentious election.

The world waits for an answer to a pandemic that surges through communities … leaves spouses widowed ... children without parents ... has robbed loved ones of final moments together and grieving families of rituals.

And people of God know something about waiting as well. 40 years in the desert. 100-year olds waiting for children. Waiting for a promised Messiah who would loose the chains of injustice, undo the thongs of the yoke, let the oppressed go free, and break every yoke (Isaiah 58:6).

And still we wait …

… for the full realization of God’s goodness and mercy to bring about the reconciliation of all creation.

… for the vision of God’s redemptive justice unveiled in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus.

… for the release from all that binds us and keeps us from seeing God’s heavenly community enacted.

… when none are bound by fear of another

…. none are bound alone in the confines of their mind.

…. none moved to violence to release the anger and pain that rages in their hearts.

…. none fearing for their safety and security moment by moment.

All surrounded by the all-encompassing love of God and neighbor demonstrated in Jesus.

Held in the embrace of love.

And we are held in that love now.

Held in that amazing embrace even as we wait, and long, and work, and lament, and strive.

And I am reminded that we are all called. Not every call is to a pastoral office.

And even as I wait, I am called to preach the gospel.

I was made to share this hope.

And so were you.

And when I can’t do anything else, it is sharing this hope that gives me life.

And so can you, in your words of care, in your actions for the sake of your neighbor.

Spread it far and wide and lean into the embrace.

This is not an embrace that ignores our realities or those of our neighbor.

Sometimes it holds us as we sob or even as we raise our fists in righteous lament.

But it is there, for all.

So we wait.

And in the meantime we share this hope and love.

And we know it is not in vain.

And we are not alone.

Amen.