ordained

I walked into a sanctuary yesterday that was flooded with afternoon light. I was there to watch a group of my friends celebrate the culmination of their multi-year process becoming interfaith chaplains. They each received a stole and a blessing, and deep affirmation of their call from their communities.

There is something special about an ordination ceremony. It’s full of intention and symbolism, full of urgency and composure, booming with the assurance of vocation, and humming with promise.

And there is something common about an ordination ceremony. In many ways it mirrors the opportunity that comes to us all with each new day. The call to us all each day is dynamic.

One part of it is about stepping out, away from things that make us comfortable.  Another part is about staying put, being present to this place and time. It is about the courage to leave the familiar for the unfamiliar, and about confidence that the unknown can become known. It’s about a continuous search for meaning, which is the ongoing effort to make room in your heart for the outside world. And it’s about holding a sense of purpose, which is the often faulty but persistent inkling that you fit in the outside world.

Yesterday my friends each bowed their heads to receive the mantle of ministry. They inspire me this morning to bow my head as I pass through the threshold of home into world, ordained to live a day.