Embrace the Possibilities

A Sermon for the Institution of the Very Rev. Terry Allen White
VII Dean of Grace and Holy Trinity Cathedral
September 8, 2004

By The Rt. Rev. George E. Councell, Bishop of New Jersey

Tonight is a night filled with possibilities. So, listen to a story about possibility, as told in a chapel address by a professor of philosophy (Edward Langerak) at St. Olaf College in Minnesota.

I once knew a little boy. When he was seven years old, this boy made a mistake that left a deep impression on him. He walked into a drug store and tried to steal some penny candy. He was unsuccessful, but instead of being reported to the police was made to go home and tell his parents what he had done. This task was the most difficult he had ever faced. He had fleeting thoughts of breaking his arm on purpose, of running in front of a car, of doing anything that would relieve him of the dreadful conversation with his parents. But the conversation took place. The boy’s father had one immediate reaction: “My son is a criminal.” These words cut to the heart. They were terrible, but they were true: seven years old – a criminal. But the boy’s weeping mother took only a few seconds to respond to that verdict: “My son is not a criminal; he’s going to be a preacher.”

I was that boy, and my mother’s response was a lesson in love. My father loved me, too, loved me enough to say what was true. I had done something that, at that moment, defined me as a thief. But he did not say the whole truth; my mother saw the possibility in me, saw what I could do and not just what I had done.

Suppose there were a person who always saw the possibilities in you, who always forgave you for what you are and who constantly, sympathetically challenged you to become what you should be. And suppose this person were not just anyone, but is a person to whom you and everyone else is ultimately responsible. Would not such a person enable you to discover the power of love, to realize the truth of the claim that only the loved can love? Would not such a person be loved in your love for yourself and others? If so, then in devotion to that person you would love yourself and your neighbor as yourself. And that would be something truly awesome. (Told in Reaching for the Invisible God, by Philip Yancey)

Dear Friends, we are gathered here tonight to meet someone who is truly awesome. And his name is not Terry! That someone is Jesus. Jesus is that someone who always sees the possibilities in you and me. Jesus is that someone who constantly and sympathetically challenges you and me to become what, by his grace, we already are: salt of the earth and light of the world (Matthew 5:13-14). Jesus is that someone who places himself in our hands, in the Blessed Sacrament of the Altar and, in so doing, places his reputation in our hands. For he has no other hands but ours with which to love, to serve, to light up the world with good works so that all may see those works and give glory to our God. We are here to receive Jesus. That is truly awesome. And we are here to accept that his mission is our mission; his life is our life. That too is awesome. No wonder your new Dean has set “Sing a New Song to the Lord” as the theme for this Liturgy. A Very Terry thing to do!

Now, I hate to bring up a name that may bring up a sore subject, but the late Tug McGraw, (who was pitching for the Philadelphia Phillies in Game Six of the World Series on October 21, 1980) had a fastball that wasn’t very fast. He called it his “Peggy Lee” pitch. Why? Because whenever he would through it, the catcher would always come out to the mound and recall the title of Ms. Lee’s famous song, “If that’s all there is.”

Our song can never be “That’s all there is.” This is true: Christ sees us truly and loves us enough to show us the truth about our fascinations with penny candy, with sex and ambition and power and security, with all the vain things that charm us most and lead us astray. But something awesome has happened: Christ has died and Christ is Risen. So, what we see in ourselves, in our world and in one another is never all there is. Christ sees us with eyes of unwavering compassion and loves us infinitely, never giving up…never giving up…never giving up on you or me or any child of God, but constantly and sympathetically challenging us to grow up into mature humanity, into the full stature of Christ (Ephesians 4:13, 15).

How awesome is this night. How awesome is this place. How awesome is our God, to make us in the divine image, to redeem us through Jesus, and to give us the Holy Spirit who calls us together and fills us with grace and power to continue his mission.

How awesome it is to be present with Terry White and his family and with Grace and Holy Trinity Cathedral and this diocesan family and your bishop, to hear you make the commitments that you make before God tonight. This is God’s idea of a good time: to call a leader and a community of faith to share in a mission that they can’t possibly accomplish without the deepest dependence upon and trust in the Lord.

Someone once observed that Jesus prayed for the kingdom and all he got was the Church. But he did get the Church. New Jersey prayed for a bishop and all they got was George. You prayed for a Dean and all you got was Terry. But you did get Terry. He’s here. And so are we. Jesus prayed and all he got was us. And yet, it’s never just about us. It’s about the world that God loves. It’s about that same world seeing the light on shining forth from this Cathedral, and witnessing the good works and giving the glory to God. It’s about something an overly enthusiastic Deacon said at the Dismissal one Sunday: “Go in peace to love and serve the world!" Close! As Christ would love and serve, so we are sent to love and serve. We can’t have the love without the apostolate.

That is why we make a point of presenting the keys to these buildings to the new Dean tonight, with these words: “Receive these keys and let the doors to this place be open to all people.” As God’s love always draws us out of ourselves, so a Cathedral has a special vocation to draw us out of ourselves. The Cathedral is not only a parish church. It belongs to the bishop, and to the diocese, and to the city. That is a lot of belonging, and a challenging vocation. Be the model of the Church, always opening the doors to the world that God so loves. The doors to congregational health and vitality always swing outward.

A Cathedral is a place named for a chair, where the Bishop may sit and, with apostolic authority, teach and give direction to a congregation of missionary communities, known as a diocese. The Cathedral is a center for missionaries, but it is not the center of the Church’s mission. As George Carey once said, “the center of the Church lies in its circumference.” It may be bad geometry, but it is excellent theology. If we are going to be at the center, we must be on the circumference, for the sake of Him who is the light of the world and calls us shine our good works of love and service.

You are the salt of the earth. You are the light of the world. You have a new song to sing. None of this is easy to do. It’s just too good not to try. Igor Stravinsky once wrote a new piece that contained a difficult violin passage. After several weeks of rehearsal the solo violinist came to Stravinsky and said that he could not play it. He had given it his best effort, but found the passage too difficult, even unplayable. Stravinsky replied, “I understand that. What I am after is the sound of someone trying to play it.” (As told by Philip Yancey in Church: Why Bother?). That is our Lord’s plan: the Church trying to live the Kingdom.

Some days you may try to sing to the Lord a new song and it may come out sounding less like this great Cathedral choir and more like the US women’s soccer team singing the national anthem as they were awarded the Gold Medal in Athens last month. They are better soccer players than singers. But something wonderful had happened. A great victory had been won. So they sang. And so do we, for the victory of our Lord Jesus Christ. We sing a new song because the great victory has been won. We celebrate the victory and then go forth to play in the World Series. God has not given up on this world.

St. Augustine once wrote, Let us sing alleluia here on earth, while we still live in anxiety, so that we may sing it one day in heaven in full security . . . We shall have no enemies in heaven, we shall never lose a friend. God’s praises are sung both there and here, but here they are sung in anxiety, there in security; here they are sung by those destined to die, there, by those destined to live forever; here they are sung in hope, there in hope’s fulfillment; here, they are sung by wayfarers there, by those living in their own country. So, then . . . let us sing now, not in order to enjoy a life of leisure, but in order to lighten our labors. You should sing as wayfarers do – sing, but continue your journey . . . Sing then, but keep going.

You can tell a lot about a person by the hymns that he or she chooses for a special occasion like this. In his notes about this Celebration, Very Terry wrote to me that he wanted to reserve “I want to walk as a child of the light” (Hymn 490) as the final Communion Hymn, so that he could sing. I want to tell you tonight that he means it: Terry White does want to walk as a child of the light. Walk with him. He does want to follow Jesus. Follow Jesus, together. Dream with him. Pray with him. Serve with him. And keep singing the song of faith in the one who gives us the victory.

You prayed that your next Dean would be a faithful leader who will care for you and help you continue your tradition of all-encompassing ministry and service. God is faithful and tonight you welcome Terry. You have called a wonderful priest. Terry is very, well, Terry. He is a wise and thoughtful leader. A caring pastor. A person of deep prayer and wide outreach and high expectations. All of this is wrapped up with a gentle humor. He drives himself hard and he demands too much of himself. You have to help him with that. He needs to go home to Liberty and love and care for Linda Sue and Tim and Rebekah. He needs to go home to Liberty, to be loved and card for and teased by his family. He needs to play golf and cheer for that other MLB team, across the state. And when they’re winning (as they are, just now), you may need to remind him of the outcome of the 1985 World Series. That will be good for his humility. Most of all, he is a disciple of Jesus Christ, and not ashamed to preach the Gospel. He knows Jesus, our great high priest, and not just by hearsay. He not only does the work of a priest. He is a priest. He is my friend. And I and his other friends are so delighted to commend him to you and to share your joy in this new ministry. He will soon become your friend, as well as your pastor, your priest, and your Dean.

There are great possibilities here tonight. God is faithful. With God all things are possible. Be faithful together, for God sees great possibilities in you.