On Friday I scattered the ashes of Ben Griswold under a tree in his garden. It was the same tree that Ben had laid hands on every day for years to do his exercises. We called it the "pull-up tree". As I prepared to kneel in the shadow of the tree, close to the earth, I remembered the refrain to Hymn 335- ..."and I will raise them up, and I will raise them up, and I will raise them up on the last day." Suddenly I saw two images superimposed- Ben, moving rhythmically closer to, then more distant from, the limb of the tree, beaming as he moved. But I also saw Ben being raised up beyond the limits of his life and limb because Christ had allowed himself to be lifted on a tree long, long ago. Christ had gone ahead to prepare a place just as he had promised and Ben was moving on as the wind moved through the leaves of the tree and the ashes mingled with the dust. Ben who was my parishioner and my friend is now beyond my sight but still within the scope of the vision that we shared. Christ calls us all- in this life, at the end of this life, and beyond this life. "Come follow me," Jesus said. This invitation has no expiration date.

Yesterday I sat in a circle with twenty-five other people. It was the Ordination Discernment Day retreat for the Diocese of Maryland, led by my wife who is the Chaplain of the Commission. Members of the Commission on Ministry sat interspersed with those who were listening for a voice by the sea, looking for a figure crossing the beach- some sign that might indicate whether they were called to ordained ministry. But whether a collar is in their future or not, a call has already taken place in their lives. It was a talented and gifted group: writers and teachers, nurses and mechanical engineers, all ages, and both genders. Although they range in age from twenty-five to their late sixties, they share a common experience. Jesus whispered, or shouted, or motioned silently, but the message they received was clear- "Follow me." And each of these men and women have dropped their nets and turned towards the sound of that voice.

Last week I walked into the Saint James meditation chapel with a couple who had come to see the school. "How do you talk to children about religion," they asked. "I tell stories." I told them, "and we have built an environment that supports the telling of the stories so that they might have life." I explained that the chapel was at the heart of the school, at the end of a blind hallway that led nowhere else. It was designed to be a space for silence and for prayer. We built it without knowing everything that might eventually take place within it. We were willing to let it evolve organically I told them.

Then I walked them into the story.

I pointed to the chimneypot that was once on the roof of the church but had become a holy water font outside the chapel. Fire is a symbol of the sprit and water is an outward and visible sign of Baptism. The memory of fire and smoke are held in this clay, I told them, and the fired ceramic blue basin holds the water.

Then we stepped over the sand colored carpet that flows under the doors of the Meditation Chapel. We stepped over the sandy bank and stood in the Jordan River. The blue and gold patterned water of that carpet flowed without moving under our feet as we spoke of Jesus and his cousin John. I spoke of the dove of the spirit descending on Jesus. I don't remember if we actually looked up but it would have been a natural reaction to check after hearing that the heavens had been torn open above our heads.

When the river let us go we crossed the desert of the second band of sandy colored carpet and stood in the middle of the Meditation Chapel. I explained that after His time in the desert Jesus was ready to do His work. He called disciples, and the first of them were fishermen. "Look down," I said, "there, in this blue carpet is the pattern of a net and we are all caught up in it. Jesus said 'follow me' and I will make you fish for people." It started with the men in the boat by the Sea of Galilee but it hasn't finished yet."

By the end of our tour the couple indicated a desire to join the church. The stories have power. The Spirit still moves. And Jesus still says:"Follow me."

When the bishop was here last week we acknowledged those who were confirmed or baptized in the last year and we blessed those who were beginning a new process of formation this year.

In that liturgy last week the bishop asked our seekers and inquirers "What do you seek?" and they responded, "Renewal of my life in Christ." At 11:45 today these twenty or so people will meet again in the Parish Library. We will be there not just to pursue information but to discover Christ with us.

All relationships that have value require commitment from us if we want discover the full potential of the relationship. More than a casual commitment is required to discover the spiritual riches and depth of relationship offered by the Episcopal Church and by this parish.

The journey begins with the desire to know God more fully. But it deepens as one commits to journeying in the same direction with others. Christ promised to be with us whenever two or three are gathered in His name. We rejoice when people join the church, which is the body of Christ.

The class has agreed to a set of norms as a sign of our commitment. We have not done this to be legalistic or demanding. We have done it to give ourselves strength for the journey. We agreed to pray for one another. We acknowledged that worship shapes us and that the liturgies of Holy Week and the offerings of the Lenten Study would be part of our journey. We recognized that 90% of ministry is just showing up and we committed to supporting one another by doing so- Sunday by Sunday and class by class.

No one can be two places at once - I know because I have tried mightily - nor can we serve two masters. The twenty some people in the Inquirers Class decided to spend part of their Sunday afternoon together exploring what Jesus meant when he said "follow me." This means that they can't be on the golf course or out to lunch when the class meets. But James and John, Simon and Andrew couldn't be in the boat and standing on the beach at the same time either. One has to chose. Jesus calls: "Follow me." We decide whether to respond. Saying "yes" takes but a moment-living into it takes a lifetime.

The men and women in the circle at the Ordination Discernment retreat on Saturday had spent years on their journey of discovery. That's a lot of missed golf games and unseen movies. It is a serious and weighty thing to offer oneself for ordained ministry. It is well to be circumspect and discerning. It is a long slow dropping of nets. There is nothing immediate in the process. This presents its own set of challenges to competent people who are used to making things happen by using their skills and their wills. Yes, Jesus says "follow me," but even if we say "yes" He next command may be "wait here awhile."

This brings me back to Ben. I have known Ben, and Leith, longer than I have known the rest of the parish. This is becausebefore I was a priest I ran a business consulting practice that specialized in the administration of small businesses. A therapist in private practice had called me. By the time the course of work was done I had automated her record-keeping and billing system, redesigned the interiors of her office and part of her home and had advised her about costs and pitfalls of producing a video. She invited her parents to see the finished product. I served tea. That was my first introduction to Ben Griswold- offering him the cup.

Not long after that I drove up to Monkton when Alec Griswold, Ben's brother had died. I brought Lelia, Ben's daughter to a little country church to pray. That church was St. James and that was fifteen years ago.

I left Baltimore to go to seminary in 1992 I never expected to see Saint James or the Griswolds again. Instead as I kept listened to the call to follow Christ I came full circle- back to Maryland, back to Monkton and back to offering Ben the cup. But now it was a chalice and the contents promised more than tea.

This is my blood poured out for you, do this in remembrance of me, Christ said. And He stood on the beach, He stood in Ben's garden, He stands here now and says to all of us " Follow me." We cannot know where the journey will take us but I know that the guide is worth following, faithful and true. Let us lower our guard, drop our nets and rise up to meet him. AMEN