Bishop Jennifer Baskerville-Burrows preached this sermon at the ordination of Bishop Kristin White on February 17 at the Greater Columbus Convention Center:
When someone shows up and is able to fully be with you authentically, generously, sacrificially, it makes it all the harder when they leave—even for something glorious.
The disciples and Jesus have been through it.
The disciples experienced Jesus’ transformative ministry of healing, feeding, teaching, and relationship that turned their lives upside down and inside out and directed toward the living God.
But then it went all wrong. There were desertions, misunderstandings, a trial and crucifixion, the empty tomb, and the upending of all that they set their hopes upon. It wasn’t supposed to be this hard. This wrenching. This confusing. They had to learn again how to put themselves back together. And after all that Jesus endured, his post-resurrection appearances—every one of them—walking on the road to Emmaus, breaking open the scriptures, eating grilled fish, breaking bread and blessing wine, Jesus assures those he loves that, literally, one way or the other, he will be with them always.
They had been through so much and Jesus was so authentically, generously, sacrificially himself that they learned something new about God, love and what was possible. And now the resurrected Jesus is about to ascend into heaven—he is about to leave them for something glorious. And his parting words are, See, I am sending upon you what my Father has promised, so hang in there.
The Holy Spirit will continue to bind them together and give them ability to do things in Jesus name that they learned while their hearts were being set on fire with love for God and one another. Jesus is ascending but God keeps God’s promises to be with them always. And because they are human, not knowing what the future would hold, the disciples must have faith and trust that God will keep this promise. I get it.
When things are good and beautiful and glorious we want those we love most to be with us. When things are mundane and regular and ordinary, we want to know that those who love us will continue to stand with us. And when things are frightening, unstable, and unpredictable, we want to be accompanied and loved through the uncertainty and fear to the other side. We may dress it up in fancy words and sometimes beautiful vestments, but this is what ministry looks like. Staying present. Showing up. Being with.
People of Southern Ohio, they one who you have called to be your bishop is faithful because in her bones, she knows that Jesus—the one who animates her life, is faithful. You have not only chosen one who wants to be with you, you’ve called someone who knows how to show up, be with, and who will be with you in the heat of the day at mile 20 of a marathon and beyond. Let me tell you how I know.
Before I knew Kristin, I knew this about her—she had discipline and dedication as a runner. Eleven years ago we both lived in Wilmette and I would often see her running back from the lakefront as I ran toward it—she was and is a very early riser. Fast forward to a beautiful day in October 2021, after four months of training and preparation, I set out to do something I had not believed was possible for me—to run my first marathon—all 26.2 miles of it.
For four months, my two canons to the ordinary, Brendan O’Sullivan-Hale and Kristin White, and I trained through a hot summer, in heat, rain, and humidity. Every Saturday we’d run through the neighborhoods of Indianapolis, working out the challenges of leading the Diocese of Indianapolis through the COVID-19 pandemic. We’d discuss pandemic protocols, how to keep our beloved congregations healthy when we were just relearning how to gather for worship. We’d discuss books, recipes, house renovation projects, and the collaborations with people and organizations we were discovering as we explored parts of the city that were unfamiliar to us. It was a hard and magical time all at once.
When the day for the marathon had come, the three of us set out with Brendan’s husband, Frank, and several other dear friends who flew to Indiana for our virtual Boston Marathon run. It was a cool start to the start day and pretty quickly—like mile 2, the other racers had taken off and it was just Brendan, Kristin and me. Our coach cycled ahead with water and nutrition and we clicked off the miles. All was great until it wasn’t. I suffered cramping in my legs and as we got to the death march of the 20th mile, I kept telling Brendan and Kristin to go on ahead. I was holding them back as I walked in the heat of the afternoon. And they were not having it. Over and over again, Kristin and Brendan said, “We started together—we finish together. We will not leave you.” And they stayed. We ran in the last yards of that marathon, smiling and rejoicing at what we had done together.
Church, I want to suggest to you that we are at mile 20 of the marathon, that moment when you know where you need to go, but you’re not quite sure how you’ll get there. Mile 20 is the moment when things look tough and you need to remember that you’ve been preparing for when things get really hard and with some help and encouragement, you can carry on.
Mile 20 in the church is wondering about changing attendance patterns, aging buildings, and a shortage of clergy and not seeing easy answers when you know the world is thirsty for the nourishment of the living God.
Mile 20 in the church is the moment when relying on the essentials become a matter of survival: Praying and breaking bread together, showing up for one another, looking out for those who have been left out or left behind whether they sit in your pews on Sunday morning or not all the while keeping Jesus at the center.
We are at mile 20 and Jesus says, See, I am sending upon you what my Father has promised so stay here, stay with it, stay true—the Holy Spirit is coming and I am with you always. Always.
Today, I both rejoice and weep a little bit because it turns out, life is NOT EXACTLY like a marathon and while God is always with us, sometimes, people leave. Sometimes they leave you for something glorious.
After five years of helping lead the Diocese of Indianapolis to be a place where clergy and laity and our congregations know they are deeply loved and that who they and how they show up in the world matters, Kristin is leaving us to be here with you—the Diocese of Southern Ohio. And you just have to know how blessed you are because when Kristin is with you—she’s all in, with you.
Kristin believes in the faithfulness of God and will now journey with all of you, step by step, mile by mile, day by day, congregation by congregation. Because showing up and being with is what living faithfully looks like. When the call went out to help someone at a deportation hearing, Kristin showed up. When our clergy and lay leaders rally at the statehouse to speak out against legislation that threatens the lives of women, trans kids, or the unhoused, Kristin shows up. When a priest has fallen ill and is facing a health scare, Kristin shows up. Stays with. You can believe that as places like Trotwood continue to show up for immigrants and refugees, Portsmouth tends to those ravaged by opioids, leaders show up to the statehouse in Columbus and others minister in the corporate halls of Cincinnati, Kristin will delight in showing up with you and for you.
And it goes both ways, so she will be inviting you to show up and be with. She will convene you thoughtfully; host you beautifully; gather you meaningfully and with purpose. Occasionally, there will be sharpies and newsprint. At other times, there may be cheese and gluten-free crackers. And if her husband John White has a say—there may also be bacon. Just saying—I understand bacon has particular importance to the history of southern Ohio. If Kristin and John White are involved, you will not go away hungry.
But make no mistake, Kristin will lead you with conviction, clarity, grace and strength. She will listen robustly and lead you in this very complicated and challenging time in history. Kristin wants you well prepared to meet the ministry moment we are in. Praying you up, redirecting resources so that YOU have what you need on the ground to respond faithfully in your contexts. She will make mistakes. And you will make mistakes. But grace will abound as you come together, lay and ordained, to draw strength as the Body of Christ who have been called for such a time as this.
Diocese of Southern Ohio, the Episcopal Church needs you not because of your financial resources, but because of who you are as the body of Christ. You are ready and you can lead us in the real work that is necessary now. The work of discovering how to truly be church, to serve the people of God in this day and time when the world is changing, the church is changing, and God is calling us—all of us—to be faithful.
It may feel like you are starting out on a journey to do something you’ve never done before—and you may be right. Ordaining your new bishop is not a finish line but a refueling stop on this journey to being and building the beloved community that God deeply desires for you and those you are called to serve. You have what you need. Just take it one step, one mile, one day at a time—your new bishop is with you. You have one another and all of us across the broader church are with you and will be cheering you on. Jesus, the one who calls you is faithful, always, always, always. And Jesus will be with you, to the finish line and beyond to the end of the age. Amen.
