Goodbye, Farewell and Amen

I was reminded that today was the last day my seminary, Seabury-Western, spent in their hallowed chapel.

It was also the first day spent in their new location.

Like many other alums, I wish I could have been there.

The school and people said goodbye to a place that has meant so much to so many. I was not the first person to spend time alone in that place in prayer, worship and quiet. I knew that by, among other things, the stone steps that were worn down by countless others who had gone before me. Nor was I the last.

It was in that chapel where I sat, alone, as a prospective student knowing that that is where I was meant to spend my seminary life.

It was in that chapel where my new friends and I signed The Book and matriculated.

It was in that chapel where we processed out following a papier mache boar's head.

It was in that chapel where we said goodbye to a classmate lost to cancer.

And now they've formally said their goodbyes and moved on to a new adventure, a new way of educating, a new way of being.

Seabury as I knew it is dead. But Seabury as a new, resurrected way of being is just beginning. And today reminds us that it's not about our magnificent buildings, beautiful stained glass, ancient stones or new carpet. It's about recognizing that resurrection comes after death and having the courage to live into resurrection rather than trying to stubbornly hang on to something that will eventually die anyway.