Purpose and Grace
II Timothy 1:8-10
Do not be ashamed, then, of the testimony about our Lord or of me his prisoner, but join with me in suffering for the gospel, in the power of God, who saved us and called us with a holy calling, not according to our works but according to his own purpose and grace, and this grace was given to us in Christ Jesus before the ages began, but it has now been revealed through the appearing of our Savior Jesus Christ, who abolished death and brought life and immortality to light through the gospel.
There is something in the world today that we have dubbed an “Impostor Syndrome”. It is thinking ourselves a failure and a fool, despite obvious success and competence. Early in the journey towards full time ministry, many seminary students experienced the opposite of this. We were tagged as having a “Messiah Complex”…the feeling that God has sent me (and me alone) to save the world and everyone in it! So in seminary, you could tell first year students from final year students by the size of the cross they wore around their necks. First year students wore ornate crosses that span the distance between neck and belly button as well as from armpit to armpit. But by the time the final year rolled around, that cross had become plain and about the size of a silver dollar. Our faith had not shrunk, but it had gained a good bit of perspective. That perspective was a growing balance between an appreciation for our calling and our certainty of how it might manifest itself in our lives.
Any given day we can easily find ourselves in situations in which we feel inadequate or unprepared. On the street. In a grocery store. At our workplaces. Even in our homes with family all around. I have experienced this myself more often than I care to admit.
As one of the requirements in the Doctor of Ministry degree program, each one of us was required to do a chaplaincy somewhere. A hospital or perhaps an institution of some kind. I was assigned St Mary’s Hospital in Athens, Georgia. It involved working in various capacities as the need arises. Mostly I visited patients as they recovered from being treated for whatever brought them to the hospital. But one evening, I was assigned the Emergency Room. On TV, the ER is the basis for high drama, but in reality it is mostly routine. But this night there was an horrific traffic accident that resulted in the death of a local middle aged man. He had multiple injuries and as the ER doctors desperately worked to save his life, his family quickly gathered in the waiting room. His wife, his parents and his children all huddled together in one area of the space provided for those waiting for results of treatment.
I joined them once I was informed of their presence. There was deep concern with the medical staff that he would not survive and that translated to a great deal of grief and sorrow with the family. At the time, I had not yet experienced a death in my immediate family, not even a grandparent. It wasn’t long before one of the doctors came in and abruptly announced that this man had passed away and then left. We sat and wept together. I was asked to pray. I found myself firmly in the straight jacket of Impostor Syndrome. I could not think of anything “comforting” to say. I just prayed. Even immediately after the family left, I could not recall a single word I said but I was certain it was inadequate. My three month internship ended few days later.
Over a decade later, I received a message via FaceBook asking me if I was the Rev Jim McGrath who had prayed with a grieving family in the St Mary’s Hospital ER years ago. I responded that I was indeed. In return, I received one of the most gracious expressions of gratitude I have ever received. He identified himself as the son of the man who had passed. He spoke for his family and apologized that in their grief they had failed to thank me for my prayer. He told me that days later they contacted the hospital for my name and contact information, but because I technically not on staff, all they had was my name. For all these years they wondered and then came upon my name on FaceBook. He wanted to convey how much the prayer I prayed had comforted and relieved his family.
I was dumbfounded. I had gone home that night certain that the family wonder where I had received such incompetent training as a chaplain. Now I was still dumbfounded, but at the Grace of God’s Holy Spirit. For I realized that for both you and me, God “…had called us with a holy calling, not according to our works but according to his own purpose and grace, and this grace was given to us in Christ Jesus…” The Holy Spirit can take both our strengths and our inadequacies and do mighty things. It is left to us but to trust and offer what we can.
Blessing to you all, my brothers and sisters in Christ,
Jim McGrath
