Well, at this incredibly momentous occasion, Jenny and I both struggled with the urge to say all of the things. I mean, this is the end of a really good book. Maybe not the last book of the entire series, but surely this moment comes close to the end of, say, The Two Towers, or at the very least the end of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire? No? How about the end of epic movies? Like that letter at the end of The Breakfast Club that tries to encapsulate who each of the characters really is, despite the principal’s best effort at defining them and putting them into neat little boxes. No? What about the end of the gospel of John, when the disciples are gathered, scared, in the upper room, at that moment when all hope had been lost? Maybe it feels kind of like that.

 

For me these examples all represent moments when the characters search for just the right words to encapsulate their identity and their journey, to gather up hope for the future, to build courage to leave behind a reality that no longer exists or that has radically changed, and lead with determination and commitment into future challenges. All of this while woefully aware of their shortcomings, their incompleteness, their brokenness, their being utterly undeserving of success in any battle or challenge that is to come. 

 

I look out at you and years of Andover Newton alumni and faculty past, and, what do I see? I see a motley crew of woefully undeserving folk. You came to Andover Newton for a degree that you knew was way beyond your reach. As a faculty member I taught every single year, pretty much every single class confident in the knowledge that I was not up to the full measure of what is required of me, not even by a long shot. In one way or another none of us should be here.

 

And this is how inadequate we are, how undeserving we are to be here. You all - WE all, have TOO MUCH of the stuff that the world and the powers say we ought to do without in order to be successful, and TOO LITTLE of the stuff the powers and principalities say we do need for success…

 

- -We are too old/too young

- -Too black/too white/too brown/too Asian/ and for the rest of you: too in between

- -Too Baptist/Too Catholic/Way too Unitarian (and not enough Universalist)

- Too experienced

- Too queer, too Native American, too European, too African, too not from around here

- Some of us are even too Puerto Rican

- More than a few of us were too poor, too hungry, too unhoused, too sick for seminary.

- We have too much of an accent, regardless of where we come from

- We’re too darn challenging, too smart for this, and a number of you have way too many degrees.

There is likewise a list of all the things we don’t have enough of…

- Many of us still feel we’re not smart enough

- We’re not pretty enough, not able enough, not brawny enough, or strong enough, not healthy enough.

- And more than a few of us never had enough money, enough food, enough books, enough memory in our computers, or enough internet.

- And I can definitely say that I never had enough humor, enough time, or enough concentration.

 

I imagine that that rowdy, unfit, undeserving, and very much not pretty enough motley crew gathered in the upper room after Jesus’ resurrection looked as unfit to build the beloved community as we do right here, as generations of ANTS graduates have looked in the past (sorry Alumni). I mean, seriously, their leader denied Jesus three times, but then jumped into the water – almost drowning! – because he recognized his beloved Jesus on the shore and wanted to get to him first. Unfit – undeserving – unqualified, for sure.

 

But it occurs to me that there will always be some Pentecost. Perhaps that’s what all these years at ANTS have been all this time: one extended, ongoing, constant Pentecost - Holy Spirit poured out again and again on the undeserving and unqualified (all of us), for the task of some of the most transformative and life-saving ministries. 

 

“When the doors were locked, Jesus came and stood in their midst, and said “Peace be with you… As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” And when he had said this, he breathed on them, and said “Receive the Holy Spirit.””

 

And at that moment that crew of unprepared and misfit disciples of this wayward rabbi were made just right for the task: though poor they became rich in faith; though inexperienced they became bearers of hope, though not smart enough they cultivated curiosity and awe wherever they went, though deathly afraid they witnessed to courage and gumption. All these years at Andover Newton have been a constant Pentecost. Where there wasn’t enough of anything, abundance became a surprising guest at meals, at chapel services, at study groups, in the classrooms. Receive the Holy Spirit, again, and again, and again. 

 

“For I know well the plans I have in mind for you – says the oracle of God – plans for your welfare and not for woe, so as to give you a future of hope.” Now, just to review, we were never enough, ever, not even right now when it’s time to turn the page and close the cover on this installment in our book series. But you have been my Pentecost throughout these years, each and every year. Holy Spirit poured out, setting our hearts aflame. And because of you being in this world, I AM SURE THAT GOD HAS A PLAN FOR WELFARE, NOT FOR WOE, SO AS TO GIVE US ALL A FUTURE OF HOPE.