The Senior Sermon of Leslie Burkardt, Class of 2006 from the Diocese of West Missouri, delivered on November 29, 2005, in Christ Chapel

Holy Wisdom, breathe through us. Amen.

Listen, listen wait in silence, listening for the one from whom all mercy flows.

The sky is falling, the sky is falling! Do you remember the desperation, the urgency in the poor chicken little’s voice? He gets bobbed on the head with an acorn and concludes that the sky is falling! The world is coming to an end! Now, not to make little of the 24th chapter in Matthew’s gospel by any means, I can not help but hear the same sense of urgency and desperation in today’s text. The frantic nature of the author draws us into the world of danger, chaos, and fear.

Go! Go and do NOT look back! Do you hear it? Listen carefully… Go! Go and do not look back! Go to where you can be alone…where you can be still with God. This is urgent! Go to the place where God dwells…on the high mountain or in the lonely desert. Go to that space within you and outside you to that place that gives way to wonder. Go to that place where you go when your internal world, your internal temple crashes. I hear the calling of the desert.

Listen, listen wait in silence, listening for the one from whom all mercy flows.

Men and women go to the desert to be silent and still with God. It is in the transformation of learning who they are and continually turning towards God that they learn what it means to love God. In the desert, the practice is not about getting things right or judging one’s self, but rather it is about taking notice…paying attention. It is about paying attention to what is going on within -- to know Thyself. Mercy is always greater than judgment in the desert.

The way of the desert is not an individual practice. Those who go to the desert also go in search of abbas and ammas -- those further on the journey. They are teachers of wisdom. It is the practice of those in the desert to go to the abbas and ammas for a word -- a word of wisdom that they can take with them and reflect on. The way of the desert is not about seeking answers because the journey is not about answers; it is about drawing from the well-spring of wisdom -- it is about living by example.

Listen, listen wait in silence, listening for the one from whom all mercy flows.

Go! Go and do not look back! Go where you can abandon control. Go where you can let go of your thoughts…Go where you can empty yourself but not loose yourself, but recognize the divine that dwells in you.

Matthew talks about the destruction of the world. The temple will be destroyed…it is to be the end of the world as they know it because the world has become disordered. We can relate to this passage, don’t you think? There is chaos with national disasters of war and natural disasters of hurricanes, earthquakes, and mudslides. Our very culture tries to disorder us with the luring of money, power, control, degrees and positions. And of course, we are not innocent -- we create impostors of our own -- you’ve heard of them, the “enoughs” in our lives -- not smart enough, don’t know enough, can’t read enough, can’t remember enough, can’t articulate well enough, can’t do enough, can’t be enough -- don’t have enough answers. We participate in the very destruction of our temple that resides within us. These things -- these impostors of fear disorder and distract us -- keep us from going deeper.

Listen, listen wait in silence, listening for the one from whom all mercy flows.

Abba Charlie Cook said one day in class, “Jesus’ teachings are always calling us to be more than we are willing to be”. After spending some time sitting with this, I have come to believe this is true. As we take notice of our own lives, what do we see? Why is it so hard to trust? Maybe it is fear. The fear of coming face to face with ourselves, knowing and owning our inadequacies -- fear of getting it wrong (or least not getting it right), fear of making mistakes, fear of not being accepted…fear of loosing ourselves, our control or maybe loosing the little bit of power that we think we have.

In reflection of my time here at seminary, and if I am completely honest throughout my life, I have struggled a lot with my “enoughs” and my fears. The challenge of knowing I’m not perfect but not wanting anyone else to see my flaws, the realization of knowing I can not do it on my own; the constant struggle of trusting the divine within me and outside me, and the challenge of finding my voice. Taking risks of feeling vulnerable -- letting others see who I really am -- worts and all. I like to call it “getting over myself”. But if I am serious about being the person God is calling me to be, it is a necessity.

Maybe Richard Rohr has really hit the nail on the head when he says, “that we need to find a way to disestablish ourselves, to identify with our powerlessness instead of power, our dependence instead of our independence, our communion instead of our individualism”. This calls us to put ourselves out there -- to feel uncomfortable, to live in the uncomfort. Our inward selves mirror the outward world. One can not hide in the desert; there is no room for self deceit. We have to face up to who we are in the desert. It is a space as, Belden Lane states, of spiritual revolution. The desert is a place of inner protest, not outward peace.

Listen, listen wait in silence, listening…for the one from whom all mercy flows.

I believe that the wisdom of this text is calling us to look inward instead of outward. It was Fredrick Buencher who said, “we all have little worlds inside us”. Maybe the apocalypse is one that is taking place inside. Maybe our inside world is mirroring, reflecting our outside world. Maybe we are called to a reordering of the inside so that we might learn to love well. Matthew writes “Clean the inside so that the outside maybe clean.”

The way of the desert, of introspection, is not only for the sake of self, but it is for sake of the world. It becomes a way for us to see ourselves and the world with gentler eyes. It is a longing to see ourselves and the world transformed -- to find speech renewed, relationships restored, and ultimately a new vision of God made possible through the recognition of our limits. It is recognition of the mutual indwelling of the divine and humanity where we become more fully human. This is a continual process -- a journey that never ends. But a journey that calls us to take notice, to reflect, and to take action. For it is the hope of this process, we can change the world!

In one of my conversations with my field supervisor, Abba David Stringer, we were talking about my spiritual formation as a priest. He said to me, “you will have to decide what kind of priest you will be.” Will I do the work? Will I be one who will allow myself to trust the divine that dwells in me and outside me to guide me? I believe this is a question for all of us. I believe that we all have to decide what kind of Christian we want to be. How are you going to live your life, if the way you go is who you are? (repeat)

A saying from Amma Synclestica, “It is dangerous for anyone to teach who has not first been trained in the ‘practical life’. For if someone who owns a ruined house receives guests there, he does them harm because of the deterioration of his dwelling. It is the same in the case of someone who has not first built an interior dwelling; he causes loss to those who come. By words one may convert them to salvation, but by evil behavior, one injures them.”

Maybe it is good that we hear this text on the first week of advent. We have this time set up in our liturgical life to be mindful…to ask the necessary questions…to look inward…to decide where we will dwell. So, let us not live in fear, let not our imposters rule our lives. May we listen for the one from whom all mercy flows. AMEN