My question for today has several possible answers, even though it’s a simple one. It’s this: During your entire life, how many graduations have you participated in? How many commencements have you seen? Given that this is the time for celebrations for young men and women who are leaving their high school or college years behind them, you might think that my question is prompted by these events. And of course, it is. But it’s also prompted by today’s gospel reading.
Although many of you have been, or will soon be, subjected to at least one graduation or commencement address, you may not recognize that we have just listened to an excerpt, an important excerpt at that, of a very special commencement address. It is the address that was Jesus’ final sermon, his final speech, given to his friends shortly before he left them.
At first you may not think it’s a graduation speech. But it really is. Like almost every other commencement speaker, Jesus reminds his listeners about the past, the times they spent together, and he prepares them for the future, the next step in their life-long journey. And that is, indeed, what a graduation, a commencement is all about. It is truly the stepping forth to a new life. It is the beginning of a new pathway. It is a change from what is known to a world that is unknown.
Perhaps, now, you would now like to change the answer to the question I asked. Perhaps you would agree with me that a graduation, a commencement, is more than completing high school or college. Rather, it marks a transition in your life. There are many transitions in our lives. Many new beginnings. Many times we have changed significantly.
Perhaps the first time is at our Baptism, when we became a Christian, whether as a child or an adult, when the Holy Spirit entered into us in a very special way. First Communion and Confirmation, both of which some of you have recently celebrated, mark other major changes when Christ and the Holy Spirit have again commenced a new life in us in very special ways.
But there are other transitions in our lives. For the young, it may be the transition from elementary school to middle school or from middle school to high school. And as we said, the usual transition from high school or from college. And with each change, there comes a series of questions: questions that are more important than the one I asked you a few minutes ago.
The questions which come with transitions are very scary questions. Questions like: what comes next? What happens now? All those scary questions about how do I change from a secure past to an unknown future? But these questions and the transitions, the changes, that cause them, go beyond high school and college commencement exercises of young adults.
For the “not-as-young,” for parents and other adults, there are transitions that may involve moving a household from one part of town to another, from one city to another. Whether you are preparing to leave Christ the Good Shepherd or are about to join us, there are all those uncertainties about the new place and how will it compare with the one you loved so much?
And whether or not you change the location of your home, there may be a change of employment or of economic status. Each of us hopes that the change will be a good one, that the job for which I interviewed will still be there when I’m ready to start working, that the company in which I have invested my time and energy will not explode like some dot-com but will continue to see my value and may even recognize I merit an increase in my salary.
For others, there are transitions involving relationships. This is the season for marriages, for young brides and grooms. Unfortunately, it may also be the season for separations and divorces. It is always the season for changes in relationships, of finding new lovers and beloveds, of losing old lovers and those we loved.
It is always the season for aging, for a transition from those who run daily to those who now jog weekly. For baby-boomers who deny that they are now eligible to be members of the AARP. For those of us who have retired from a particular career but not from an active life. It is always the season for dying, for passing from this life to the next. We are indeed, constantly undergoing a series of transitions until we make that final transition … and return home to a loving God.
But in the meantime, how do we look at the changes in our life. Or more importantly, how do we react to them? Do we reject them with fear? Or do we accept them with hope? Do we preserve the past and become attached to the world as it was? Or do we seek the future and participate in the world as it now is and is likely to become? These are not new questions. They’re evident in the three readings we heard today.
In the first reading from the Acts of the Apostles, we heard how there was dissension among the early followers of Christ. Part of the group wanted to follow all of the dictates of the Mosaic Laws and continue the rituals and dietary practices of the Jews while still accepting Jesus as the Messiah, the Chosen One of God. Others maintained that Christ had died and had risen from the dead in order to free them from such rituals and practices. And so a meeting was held in Jerusalem and a message sent by the apostles to the Christians of Antioch. However, all of the conflict did not end. There were those who continued to hold firm to the past and were reluctant to change.
We get another glimmer of these attitudes in the reading we heard from the Book of Revelation. We, again, heard about the New Jerusalem from heaven that would replace the old Jerusalem of earth. Yet this New Jerusalem continued to have gateways that depended on the past. The twelve gates to the new city are inscribed with the names of the twelve tribes of the Israelites, of the peoples who are the ancestors of all Christians. At the same time, this New Jerusalem is surrounded and defended by a wall with twelve levels of stonework and each level of this protecting wall bears the name of one of the apostles.
Although this New Jerusalem, the city in which we all aspire to live, although it has its historic ties to the Israelites and the apostles, it has no ritualistic temple of the past, but rather it has the lamb, itself. This city has no need for either artificial light nor the light of the sun and the moon, since its lamp is now the Lamb of God. The old remains, yet all is new. Events are in transition.
Yes, the early Christians suffered persecution as they changed from the way of their ancestors to the path of the risen Christ. They had their own problems with their transitions. And how did they handle them? How did they survive? The answer rests in the commencement address, the graduation speech delivered by Christ before he left his disciples. Let me read, once more, a few lines of what Jesus said to them: “Whoever loves me will keep my word, And my father will love him, And we will come to him and make our dwelling with him. … I have told you this while I am with you. The advocate, the Holy Spirit, Whom the Father will send in my name, Will teach you everything; And remind you of all that I told you. Peace I leave you, my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give it to you. Do not let your hearts be troubled or afraid.”
“My peace I give to you.” Yes, we exchange these words at every Eucharistic celebration. But do we appreciate what we are being given? Some of us may say: but I am not really at peace. I feel weighed down by the changes in my life. I do not feel secure with the future. I want to stay where I am, to preserve what I know to be true. I do not want to give up the comforts I have known.
The disciples felt the same way. They did not want to hear Jesus tell them he was going away from them; that he was returning to the Father. And Jesus, understanding their fear, reassured them. It was his own peace, his own blessing, his own “shalom” that he gave them. His peace was not peace as the world understood it. It was not the peace of absolute harmony and tranquility. There would still be conflicts among them. They would still be physically hungry, cold and ill. They would still experience trials and tribulations.
Yet there is now a difference. Although Jesus would no longer be there to comfort them, he promised to send the Holy Spirit as the new comforter, the new guardian, the true advocate who would strengthen and defend them: the one who would teach them and remind them of all they had been taught.
Next Sunday, we will celebrate the Ascension of our Lord. We will celebrate the day when he physically left this world, left his followers, left us. And then, a week later we will celebrate Pentecost, the day when the Holy Spirit descended upon those he loved, descended upon us.
Yes, there are many graduations in our lives: times when we need to step forth from a secure life to a life of uncertainty. And yes, there are many commencements in our lives: times of new beginnings and of dramatic changes. But in each graduation, in each commencement we must continue to hear the words spoken by Jesus the Christ: “I send you the holy spirit. My peace I give to you. Be not afraid.”
Sixth Sunday of Easter; May 20, 2001
Acts 15: 1-2, 22-29; Rev 21:10-14, 22-23; Jn 14:23-29