no turning back now.

"It's too late to turn back now.  You're in too deep.  You've accomplished to much.  You can't stop now.  You're in this for the long haul."

That's what our professor told us today.

We Jubilee Fellows have done too much to give up now.  We've been given too much to refuse the gifts and opportunities.  We've experienced too much.  We have gone too far to turn back; the only way is forward.

This is both intimidating and encouraging.

This is a little scary--I'm in this, I can't leave, I can't stop leading and working in and with the church.  My gifts are known and now I am expected--and encouraged--to use them.  It's not scary in that I won't like it or that it's not my "calling" or that it's not something I should do.  It's intimidating because I ask myself: Who am I to lead?  Who am I that people look up to me and respect me and ask my opinions and listen to me and ask me to listen?  Who am I?  I'm not that great.  I'm just an ordinary college student.  Right?  Maybe.  But Coop said it well: "It is extraordinary how extraordinary God makes ordinary people." hmm.

And these words are encouraging.  They affirm something in me, something I have done, something I do.  They say that I am important and my work is important--and it is worth it to continue.  I need to continue because I have things to say, to contribute, to give.  And they must be said, they must be contributed, they must be given.  And, perhaps, only I can do so.  And that feels a bit haughty and it could go to my head, but it won't.  I'm kept in check.

Coop told our small group today: "When you were commissioned, the congregation laid hands on you.  In doing so, we said: We believe in these people.  We will follow them.  We will stand behind them."  Basically, they said: these are my people and I believe in them and believe that they are great and that they have something to say, and they won't always say it perfectly, but it will be okay.  We are for them and we stand behind them.  And when that many people stand behind me, follow me, believe in me, I have no choice but to continue.  It is too late for me to turn back.

But that doesn't mean that we all need to become pastors.  Not all of us need to go to seminary and be ordained.  Our professor earnestly told us that he would be lying if he said that he didn't want all of us to significant leaders and/or pastors in our churches.  We should be.  We know more and have experienced more and done more than we think.  We are capable of more than we think.  But he pointed out that he did not just say that he wanted us to be pastors.  And then he gave examples.  He looked at me and said, "You came into this year sure that you were going to seminary and now you are sure that you're not.  And that is okay.  You will bring reconciliation in your work as a counselor/therapist and you're work will be important and you can/will still have an important role in the church.  You can/will still be a leader in the church without being a pastor."  This meant so much.

Then he continued, "After all, that's what your calling is: to bring about reconciliation.  We Christians get it a little wrong when we say that we don't know what our calling is.  We do.  We are called to reconcile.  We don't/may not know what form this calling will take.  We Reformed folk like to say: We all have the same function, just different forms."

So there we have it.  There's no turning back.  I'm not turning back.  I'm moving forward in bringing about reconciliation, in whatever form that may take.