liturgy, art, and culture

3.04.2010

He Never Lets Go

This week, I cannot help but be reminded of the unmerited yet unconditional love, grace, and providence God. One year ago today I visited The Divinity School at Wake Forest University for the first time. I remember that trip like it was yesterday. I arrived the night before, checked into my hotel room, and proceeded to perform my ritual of walking the campus of the prospective school that I was visiting. This night was cold. Snow was still on the ground and as I drove onto campus, I saw Wait Chapel glowing like a beacon of possibilities. I walked up to the doors of the building and to my surprise, they were unlocked. I walked in through the rotunda and up the dimly lit stairs. I rambled my way through the maze that I now simply know as the second floor and as I descended down the opposite dimly lit staircase, I heard music. This music was different from that which I heard coming from the Yale Institute of Sacred Music, much newer. The music was also not like that I was accustomed to hearing during my progressive Sunday morning church service, it was older. Come to think of it, this music was not new or old, it was just music. I will never know who or what was producing the sounds that I could ringing from Davis Chapel, but I’m pretty sure that it was at that moment that I knew I would end up at Wake. After a stroll through the glory that is Wait Chapel at night, a walk around the quad, and quick look at the library, I returned to my car, and went back to the hotel.

The next day, though not nearly as spiritual was every bit as exciting. That morning I sat in an interview with Dr. Bill Leonard, Dean of the Divinity School. As we talked, I remember wondering what it would be like to attend a school like Wake. Little did I know that less than a year later, Dr. Leonard and I would meet weekly to discuss historical and emerging church happenings while drinking wine. I had lunch on campus in the Magnolia Room. Not quite the elitism of a gothic Ivy League dinning hall but every bit as classy. I remember I enjoyed the way this Baptist “did lunch” much more than some of the New England schools that I had visited. These people knew how to eat, and they knew how to do it on linen table cloths. That afternoon, I sat in the same church history lecture that I sat in today, Dean Leonard’s classic talk on the early 16th Baptist and how he considers himself to be on. Knowing my own love hate relationship with my own Baptist heritage, I felt that I too could be a 16th century Baptist. Too new to be institutionalized with a clear link to the past. I think that just about sums me up.

I am taking this trip down memory lane because I have found myself amazed at the grace of God that is at work in us when we follow our hearts. I needed Wake Div, and not only did God know that, but He gave me the desires of my heart. This week, everything feels just like it did then. From the lecture to the several feet of snow that has fallen this winter, Wake is everything I hoped it would be and more.

There are rainbow stickers on the faculty doors at the divinity school that read, “A Safe Place at Wake.” I remember these stickers being the one problem I had with Wake a year ago. They symbolize the inclusive space that Wake Div is for all people, without any question of their of race, gender, sexuality, or theology. Now regardless of how you feel about that statement (and to be honest I’m still not sure how I feel about it), I too needed a “Safe Place at Wake.” I needed a place to explore my own theological vision and to experience others doing the same. I needed to be in a place where I had the freedom and the safety to be me, without feeling like I had to hide in the shadows or conform to the fundamental background that I come from. I needed a place to spend three years following Jesus, sitting a his feet asking the hard questions. I have found that at Wake, and I feel strongly that it is an expression of the unconditional love, grace, and providence of God.

Now, may you too have the freedom to follow your own heart, and the courage to resist the institutionalization of your soul.


“What good would it do to get everything you want and lose you, the real you? What could you ever trade your soul for?” --Jesus (The Message)

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