Honoring Our Past, Embracing Our Future, Savoring Our Present

​Today is both the final sermon in our centennial preaching series and the first Sunday of the new Christian year. As you might guess, that is not a coincidence.
 
From the very beginning of our centennial planning, we wanted to do two things, both named in our centennial slogan. We wanted to “honor our past,” and we wanted to “embrace our future.” We wanted to look back in gratitude and forward in hope.
 
That’s why we scheduled this centennial sermon for this day. In Advent, all Christians do on a grand scale what we have been doing all year here at Saint David’s.
 
In Advent, Christians around the world prepare themselves to celebrate the birth of our Lord two thousand years ago, to remember with gratitude the good news of great joy that Christ was born, Immanuel, God with us. That’s honoring our Christian past.
 
Advent is also a season for looking forward. We get that in our readings about the second coming of Christ, which may be a time of suffering and will certainly be a time when things get shaken out, but which will also be a time of joy and the establishment of God’s kingdom. As Christian people, we embrace that future.
 
That combination of looking back and looking forward makes every Advent a complicated and busy time.
 
For me personally, Advent is probably the most challenging season of the Christian year.
 
There’s all the Church stuff, as we do Advent and prepare for Christmas and plan for the coming year.
 
And there is normally a fair amount of non-Church stuff, too. Carrie finishes her semester soon, after which our family will swing into Christmas action. That means we will once again have to navigate the challenging fact that I am busy with work at a time when Carrie is not and there is a lot to do on the home front. I emphasize, Challenging!
 
This year there is more than usual here at Saint David’s. In addition to everything it always is, this Christmas Eve is our actual centennial, the day our parish turns one hundred. On Christmas Eve we won’t emphasize our centennial since we’ll be busy celebrating Christ’s birth. But our year-long centennial celebration culminates a week from Monday with a festive meal. I hope you will all come if you can.
 
All that busyness is great. But I hope we can also pause long enough to enjoy the season and particularly to enjoy our celebration.
 
I think back to the single busiest time of my life. As I was turning thirty—exactly half a lifetime ago—I was finishing my education (finally!), moving to a new city, starting a new job, and anticipating the birth of our first child.
 
My last academic requirement, the actual end of my education, was an oral defense of my dissertation. I had to present my research to my professors and any students who wanted to be there, and answer their questions about it. Then the other students and I had to leave the room while the faculty voted on whether I had done well enough to pass.  
 
The stakes were high. If I passed, I would graduate and could start my new job in the next week or so. If I didn’t pass, I wouldn’t graduate, and my life would get very messy.
 
Going in, I was confident enough that I invited friends to meet me after the defense for a celebratory beer. But time was tight because Carrie and I also had a three-hour birthing class that evening. That was my life at the time—one big thing after another, with not much break in between.
 
So, during my defense, I did my best in front of the faculty. Afterwards, as I left the room, I felt good about my performance. I figured the faculty vote would take about thirty seconds. My professors would look around at each other, all give the thumbs up, and come out to give me the good news.
 
That is not what happened. The minutes clicked slowly by as I waited anxiously. Friends reassured me that all would be well. I waited some more. I got more anxious. Apparently, I had not done as well as I thought.
 
After what seemed like a very long time but probably wasn’t, my professors finally came out to tell me I had indeed passed. Relieved, I headed to the pub with friends. My main mentor came with us to join in the celebration.
 
But at the pub, I was not in celebratory mode. I was still all business. I didn’t have much time before our birthing class, and there were things I wanted to know, like what my professors had been talking about for so long after my defense, and, looking ahead, what I needed to do to publish my dissertation. After thirty years, my education was done, and I was moving forward.
 
Thankfully, my mentor slowed me down. He pointed out that I had been working for this moment for a long time. He told me to pause in gratitude for all the help I had received along the way and in pride for what I had accomplished. He was telling me to take a moment to honor my past.
 
He also understood that my future was coming at me fast and hard, and he assured me that we could talk another time about my next steps. He knew that I needed to embrace my future.
 
But for at least a few minutes, he said, I should savor the present, enjoy a beer and time with friends.
 
It was good advice. It would be a LONG time before I had another opportunity for genuine leisure! In the next few weeks, I would move, start a new job for which I felt poorly prepared, and become a father, for which I was definitely poorly prepared. Going forward, I wouldn’t often see my fellow students, my friends and companions of the previous seven years.
 
So, as best I could, I took my mentor’s advice. I enjoyed a little time with my friends and the chance, brief as it was, to look back at the journey we had been on together. In my own way, I was honoring my past, as well as embracing my future. But I also paused to appreciate the present moment.
 
I hope that we can do the same over the next week, and especially at our centennial meal, and over the next few months. For the last year, we have tried to honor our past in different ways. Always we look forward in hope, often mixed with some anxiety. But it’s good to pause every once in a while, to savor the present, to count our blessings, and to enjoy each other’s company.
 
Of course, we can’t simply pause forever, just as I couldn’t celebrate with friends forever. The future is coming, and we have to move into it with courage and faith. Today begins a new Christian year. Next month we begin our second century as a parish. Four months after that, I’ll retire.
 
I don’t know what the future holds for me or for Saint David’s. But right now, we are in a good place. I thank God for that. I thank God for you. And I pray that God will richly bless us in the years to come as God has richly blessed us in the past and as God is richly blessing us now. In Christ’s name. Amen.