Sunday we included in our 10:30 service the ritual of Confirmation. Eight of our youth took the “leap of faith” and made their vows of commitment as people of faith. It was a very special service. The teens after being confirmed and receiving communion then served communion to the congregation. They did a fine job even though they said they were nervous they came across as calm and at ease. The excitement of the day and the meaning of the ritual have stayed with me.

 

At the 9:00 service we welcomed three people through transfer of membership. As part of my reflection at the 9:00 service I read this section of an address given by David Bartlett to the graduating seminary students at the Pacific School of Religion in Berkeley, California. I re-read it this morning and remain convinced that these are words applicable to anyone venturing to live life with faith at the centre. I offer them to you:

 

“I send you forth to the land which has been promised.

That it has been promised is all I know.

I do not know the shape of the land,

the route which you must go,

the dangers certain to befall along the way.

 

My small experience leads me to suggest

you should expect your share of desert places

where oases vanish upon close inspection

and water springs from most unlikely rocks.

 

Also, you should beware the golden calf

or any beast pretending to be God.

The likely candidates will have immense appeal,

and an unpleasant aftertaste.

One great advantage of the Promised Land

is that it will wait for you; if on your way

someone waylaid by thieves or sudden beauty

should detain you, there is time.

You will know that you have reached the land

by the sudden fear you feel at the edge of grace

and the strong pull of familiar Egypt on your soul

and the knowledge there is no turning back.

 

Farewell, beloved. Put on the whole

armour of God, but leave your heart exposed.

Since life, like death, demands

a certain vulnerability.

And learn a song or two to sing in a strange land.

 

Be wise as serpents, innocent as doves,

accepting the worst from folk, expecting the best.

You are less what you’ve learned than

what you’ve learned to love.

Love is you journey’s name and your final rest.