Paul is writing to the people of Corinth, and explaining that Jesus has died and after that, rose and appeared to the disciples, and even to Paul – Paul who’d persecuted Christians before that time. But after Jesus appearing to him, he’s worked hard for the Church, not however because of anything he did, but because of God working through him. With this sentence, “I am what I am”, I think he’s explaining that God made him, God loves him, and despite his prior bad behavior, God loves him still.
Today, the Monday after Easter, I’m struck by the simplicity and humility of Paul’s statement. In normal, pre-pandemic years, I’d be exhausted from weeks of planning for Holy Week and Easter, and the glorious marathon of church gatherings – Maundy Thursday night, Good Friday day and evening, Great Vigil late Saturday night, and several services Easter Sunday. In normal, pre-pandemic years, my husband would make most of the Eggs Benedict brunch, as I was finishing up at church. But this is not a normal year.
Instead of planning for gatherings, I spent weeks helping others figure out how to gather as a community virtually, mastering both the content and the logistics of how that content was to be shared at the same time – building the runway as the plane is taking off. My little piece of that was to organize deacons from throughout the Diocese to sing pieces of the ancient chant that is sung at the Great Vigil. Nine voices, nine deacons offering their voices to this haunting chant.
I ‘attended’ several services online, including our own Great Vigil, and then the Easter morning service at the National Cathedral. That was especially nice, as Presiding Bishop Michael Curry preached, the music was beautiful, and I simply got to worship. Not only that, but I put my headphones on, and took a walk during the service. Beauty abounded.
And in the midst of novel online tools, novel online worship, novel remote working, we have a novel virus, and I continue to manage a novel significant persistent mental illness in my loved one. This was definitely a novel Holy Week and Easter. Maybe it’s that novelty that is exhausting. All I know is that I’ve slept well and abundantly – 10 hour nights, and 2 hour naps.
And as I navigate through the rest of Easter season, I am mindful that I am what I am. I cannot do more or less that God’s grace allows. Just like how I’ve navigated Holy Weeks in the past, as well as this current one, I do my best, mostly.
This morning, I’m thinking about how to give credit where credit is due. True, I am what I am, and I do what I can. But it’s only by God’s grace that I can do anything. And in those moments when I’m not at my best, when I don’t do what I know I should, or do what I know I shouldn’t, God’s grace abounds anyway. My ability to navigate exhausting times is not of my own doing. It’s not even because I’ve been sleeping well. It’s because God’s grace allows me to do well, and God’s grace let’s me sleep well. It’s God’s gentle nudges to redirect me.
It’s when I think that I, myself, am to receive the praise for navigating this world, or I, myself, have witty things to write and say – it’s then that I veer off the path towards God. As it turns out, my plans and my abilities are nothing compared to God’s. True, I am what I am. There’s some humility in acknowledging that. But more important, I am God’s.
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