Graduate Recognition Take Three: Tim Krohn's Sermon

Tim Krohn has been at the heart of LOL/LCM for nearly a decade
as a Peer Minister, the Campus Ministry Coordinator
and currently, Director of Music Ministries.

Grace and Peace to you from the One who IS, who Was, and who is to come.

It’s hard to believe that it’s been almost ten years since I first walked through these doors as an eager young freshman, having no idea of what the ensuing decade would have in store for me. What a journey it has been to this point: Pursuing an undergraduate degree in Trumpet Performance, taking “a year off” that turned into three, and then getting the crazy idea to get two more degrees in three years.

I had no idea ten years ago that I would spend three years of my mid-twenties living in a church, working in campus ministry and nearly getting a noise violation on my birthday for singing “A Mighty Fortress is our God” from the garage roof of a church…… ok, maybe there was a bit more to the story than that……

I had no idea ten years ago that I would hold a masters in band conducting, have the opportunity to work with world class teachers, and be applying to be a high school instrumental music teacher.

I had no idea ten years ago that I would meet some of the most remarkable and inspiring people I have ever known, and certainly I had no idea that I would have to say goodbye to some of these very same people whose lives ended in ways that seemed unfairly premature.

Through all of the twists and turns, I would not be truthful if I told you that I had any idea of what my journey had in store for me. In fact, there were many moments where it seemed that the farther I went down a particular path the farther away I got from a sense of groundedness, a sense of identity, and at times even a sense of belongingness.

During these moments of insecurity and questioning, particularly in the past few months, I was continually reminded of the final verse of the sending hymn that we sang during the season of Lent:

I fear in the darkness and the doubt of my journey
But courage will come with the sound of your steps by my side.
And with all of the family you saved by your love
We’ll sing to your dawn at the end of our journey.

This hymn certainly grew and evolved with me as my understanding of God has been questioned, explored, and affirmed throughout these past few months. I first painfully sang this hymn at the close of a dear friend’s memorial service in January and as we traveled the road with Christ through Lent, the Love and Light of Christ that Ben (Larson) had so freely shared with all of us grew and blossomed with my own understanding of Christ’s love for us. And as I read our Gospel lesson for today, this hymn verse began to take on new meanings for me as one who is journeying and grappling with change, uncertainty, and attempting to meet new challenges. It is this reflective quality of this simple hymn that I hope will be meaningful to you, on your journeys as well:

I fear in the darkness and the doubt of my journey

The verse begins with two very, important words not to overlook: I fear. Not, you fear, we fear, he fears, she fears, but I FEAR. Singular. Alone. We feel that somehow, in our most vulnerable moments, we are alone. We are cut off from others and at times we feel that we are separated even from God. It is from this aloneness, this brokenness in our relationship with God and with one another, that we provide a space for fear to enter in. The world suddenly feels too large to make a difference, the task too insurmountable, the mountain too high, the road too long. We begin to doubt ourselves, our abilities, our intuitions, and wonder if we can survive the journey, finish what we’ve started, or whether we are even on the right path at all. But amidst our self doubt, our second guesses, our fear of the unknown and of being alone, GOD ENTERS IN. GOODNESS IS STRONGER THAN EVIL.

But courage will come with the sound of your steps by my side.

God does not come to us by our invitation, or by obligation, or by our own initiation. God comes to us, completely independent of who we are, what we do, or where we are going through the grace of Jesus Christ, because he LOVES US. God doesn’t love only you, or me, the saints, the sinners, Buckeyes, or Wolverines, God walks with each of us, accompanies us in our journey, in those moments that we feel most alone, those moments where we are most vulnerable, those moments that we fear the most. It is through God’s Love that we are renewed in Christ and are affirmed as children of God. It is through Love that we enter into communion with one another, it is where we find God. If God is present in Love, then the absence of (or the perceived absence of God) is where fear is present. It is through the Light and Love of Christ that darkness is dispelled and we are uplifted from our own fears to make a difference, to complete our goals, to climb the mountain, and to forge new paths. LIGHT IS STRONGER THAN DARKNESS

And with all of the family you saved by your love

It is through God, through LOVE, that we are able to enter into communion with one another. It is where we emerge from our darkness of fear and enter into the light of Christ who shines in each of us. We move from the singular “I” to “we”; from journeying alone to journeying “with.” For where LOVE resides, there also does God, and it is through Christ that we are joined together as children of God, as the Body of Christ.

It is through love that Christ meets us. It is through LOVE that the Holy Spirit works through us. It is through LOVE that we see Christ in others. LOVE is the vehicle that overcomes all things. LOVE IS STRONGER THAN HATE.

Therefore, it is Christ who calls us to share this Love with one another, this knowledge of God, this sense of communion with one another.

“I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another.”

Just as Christ has loved us, we, the body of Christ, should love one another. Just as the body of Christ has many parts, we have many ways of being beacons of Light to one another. There are those who show their love through doing, those who show their love by making, those who show their love by being present and listening. Whatever we do, and however we show it, we are all called to be Christ to one another, to Love one another, to be present in one another, through Christ, so that we may no longer experience the fear of being alone in darkness and that we may walk in accompaniment with God. A love that is so powerful that it “bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.” As our gathering hymn proclaimed earlier: “We are called to act with Justice, we are called to love tenderly, we are called to serve one another, to walk humbly with God.”

God indeed showed to us that his love for us is greater then anything else on this earth, even greater then death. As we celebrate Christ’s death and resurrection this Easter season we remember that LIFE IS STRONGER THAN DEATH

“See the home of God is among mortals.
He will dwell with them as their God;
They will be his peoples,
And God himself will be with them:
He will wipe every tear from their eyes
Death will be no more:
Mourning and crying and pain will be no more,
For the first things have passed away.”

As someone standing before you today, supported DEEPLY by friends that I consider family and family that I consider close friends, I feel richly and wholly loved…. and it is through this love that you have generously shared with me and with one another that I have been able to know Christ, to LOVE Christ, and to be inspired to reflect Christ’s love, your love, to others throughout our journeys.

Victory is ours through God who loves us. Amen

Graduate Recognition Sunday Take Two: Jackie Hibbard's Sermon

Jackie Hibbard, University of Michigan, M.S.E Space Systems 2010, B.S.E. Aerospace 2009 delivered the sermon on Sunday, April 25th. With her permission, we reprint it here:

For my third grade science project, I chose to make a model of the Solar System. To aid me in my research, my parents bought me a book entitled “The Solar System.” It was a big, square, hardcover book, complete with glossy photos of the Sun and all the planets from the NASA Galileo and Magellan probes.

I don’t remember anyone suggesting the project to me, so I must’ve had some interest in the subject beforehand. But after I saw Saturn’s rings and the ancient riverbeds on Mars, I was hooked. And that was before I saw the jaw-dropping images of distant galaxies from the Hubble Space Telescope. While I didn’t know that the name for what I wanted become was “aerospace engineer” until I was in High School, what I DID know at 8 years old was that NASA is cool.

My passion for the Cosmos is rooted in the sense of the awe it inspires, the sense of something bigger than me, bigger than all of us, and beyond the everyday. It has inspired my career in the study and exploration of space. It is also the root of my faith. While I was raised Lutheran, and my parents talked about God, due to regular 7 AM hockey and indoor soccer games on Sundays mornings, we did not attend Church regularly.

Instead, my relationship with God developed through the beauty of the night sky.

Looking up and seeing endless waves of serene stars punctuating the darkness, and realizing they are suns just like our own but are light-years away, fills me with a sense of the vastness of space, and our own tininess. Yet this knowledge of being minuscule never came with a sense of unimportance, but instead with an exhilaration of being part of something so much larger and grander. How could this have come together without the aid of a greater power? Even after studying nuclear fusion, learning about the composition and classifications of stars, and being frustrated by the nitty-gritty details that actually go into the launch of a satellite, my boyfriend still has to drag me along at night because I stop dead in my tracks and gaze up at the heavens when I get a clear view of the stars. Studying it doesn't diminish its awe - I've heard it compared to getting a glimpse in the mind of God. That’s how I hear God’s voice.

Yet not everyone in my field shares this feeling of awe, humility, and faith.

Being in a technical discipline, I’m encountered my fair share of peers who did not understand why I attended church every Sunday. A roommate of mine at an internship asked me, once, outright, “How can you know that God exists?”

I said, “I just believe.... I have a feeling at the pit of my stomach that I couldn’t shake if I tried.... I couldn’t see it at the time, but looking back, I can see how events in my life have shaped the person I am today. Though they may not have been what I wanted to happen, they have led me to the place I think that I am supposed to be. ”

To which he replied, “Don-cha think you should give yourself more credit?”

Just like those who questioned Jesus in the Bible passage, he missed what I was saying because he had much different expectations. In the passage, the Jewish people expected their Messiah to be a strong hero like Judas Mack-a-bee, not the son of a carpenter. He didn’t speak about re-living the glory for which the Festival of Dedication was founded. He spoke of love and sacrifice. He likened himself to a Good Shepherd, and his people to sheep, not mighty warriors.

Just as the Jews demanded Jesus to “tell us plainly,” some people in technical fields expect outright, empirical proof of God. But His signs are much subtler than they expect. When rushing through the 100 tasks on your to-do list, it’s easy to lose sight of the big picture. It’s only when you slow down, tune out the everyday noise, and listen that you can hear Jesus’ voice, whispering among the others yelling. Jesus says his sheep hear his voice. We just have to learn to listen.

Many other fellow engineers are just surprised that I made the effort to get up in the morning on a Sunday. When scheduling meetings, I often had to tell group members that I wouldn’t be able to meet until Sunday afternoon. After the confusion wore off, they would absent-mindedly mention, “huh, I haven’t been to church since I came to college.”

They too had mistaken assumptions. They misunderstood my calling to church. They saw church as an obligation, a chore. Clearly they’ve never attended Lord of Light. (Yes I’m talking to you, peanut gallery)

What they don’t realize is that this Church is my place to temporarily escape from the sometimes overwhelming expectations of school and life. Over my five years at U of M, our community became my home away from home. Even though I had never attended a service on my own, there was something so warm and inviting on the brochure I received freshman year that I had to go see for myself. I was welcomed with open arms when I showed up in September of 2005. That same inclusiveness from the brochure shone through every person who spoke to me. Tim even learned I played violin that day!

Besides the fantastic music, Sue’s sermons motivated me to sneak out of my dorm room long before my roommate would stir. (I know,11 AM? Holy Cow! That’s the crack of dawn for a college kid!)

Her sermons echoed sentiments I held close to my heart. And she had impeccable timing: during one particularly brutal exam season, I felt that Sue was speaking directly to me when she adamantly told us that our self worth is based on far more than our GPA and standardized test scores.

Lord of Light was my rock during my college years. Though the Michigan economy was faltering, college friendships came and went, and the classes sometimes felt like academic boot camp, it was at this church that I learned I didn’t have to bear it alone. The fellowship, the music, the food, and of course, the cocker spaniels, helped me grow in faith and recognize Jesus’ presence more clearly in my life.

So with the lessons you have all taught us, the graduates of 2010 boldly disperse across the world to bestow upon others the love and support you have given us here.

And we know that if we ever need to hear God’s voice, all we have to do is ask to Skype into a LOL worship.

Or, we could just go star gazing.

Amen.