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
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.
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