I am an Evangelist

The thought struck me recently: I am an evangelist. “Struck” is the right word to describe it, for it was a sharp and sudden awareness. And with the awareness, which I really can’t describe, came a joy, which I can’t describe either, … but you know what I mean.

It’s an awareness which cannot be learned, as a book might teach you something. Indeed you may know something from book learning, but not really KNOW it, not really believe it in your heart. It’s the awareness like when you discover that someone loves you. It’s the awareness like when your friends jump out of the dark and yell “Surprise! Happy birthday!” You knew they were your friends and you knew it was your birthday, but now … now they are “special”, and your heart, not your head tells you so. It’s like the awareness when you see your baby for the first time and the nurse holds it up for you to see – and perhaps it had been crying, but now it stops and looks deep into your eyes, and smiles. And you KNOW, with an awareness no one could explain to you ….

It’s the awareness that comes to some when the priest raises a piece of bread into the air and says “This is my body,” and though you had heard it a thousand times before, though you had studied the teachings, though you affirmed before all men that you believed this, and yet now, this day, this moment, suddenly, you knew, you KNEW: THIS IS HIS BODY!! At that moment in the church, a small baby gurgles and giggles into the sacred silence, and you know the joy it is feeling. You KNOW. Not everyone is gifted to know the things of God; it is a blessing to be made aware of these things.

I know. I am an evangelist.

I know we are all called to be evangelists. I’ve often analyzed my actions --- over and over and over and, anxiously, over again: Am I doing Your will? Is this what I should be doing? Am I a witness to Your Church’s truth and beauty? Am I being, or at least becoming, who you made me to be?

I think part of my difficulty in coming to accept the truth in any faith matter is my scientific background. A physics major, as is my beloved pastor, it’s hard to get past analyzing things. Although in knowledge and wisdom of my faith I want to always ask: “What should I do, Lord,” still in my nature is a constant asking of “Why?” I want to, I yearn to understand everything. Faith is difficult for me. I yearn to study all the complexities of life and faith and work them down to the simplest form: 1 + 1 = 2, Q.E.D.. But faith exceeds the mathematics I so easily rely upon. And in truth, I know I only pretend to rely upon the math as true, because I also know, as a scientist, that even that is not truly true. For science has learned that at the most detailed level of the existence of matter, it does not surely exist, but only a probability occurs of its existence at a certain point (Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle). It’s kind of like the question: “Is that really ‘1’ or is it really 1.000000000000001?” Faith takes us to a level beyond the numbers adding up, even beyond the satisfying Q.E.D. of proof. With faith, you KNOW, even when reason – and physics – say you can’t know with certainty.

In today’s gospel we heard “I am the vine; you are the branches.” We can logically understand the relationship, and say “I understand,” but it is a supreme blessing, a great joy, when you suddenly are aware of what that really means. As a branch we, not the vine, bear fruit or flowers. As a branch, we uniquely bear a certain kind of fruit, or a certain quality. The apple tree cannot bear an orange, no matter how much it tries. The branch can seek more nourishment from the other plants, trees, or even humans, but it is only fed through the vine. The branch can graft onto itself other branches and think it is producing other fruits or other flowers, but is isn’t. The grafted branches are gaining nourishment through you, but it comes from the vine; you are just an instrument to convey the food. You can look at other branches and see that some bear very ugly, deformed or even rotten fruit --- and you don’t need scientific equations to prove the ugliness, for you know true beauty. And strangely, that awareness too comes from the vine.

What you are, what you can be, how you can be, can be seen in the parable of the vine and the branches – but you’ll never figure out how it all works no matter how many “Why’s” you are able to answer. But you may grow in confidence that you are a branch, a very unique branch, like no other, a thing that can be very beautiful if it accepts what it is, and stops worrying. And should we suddenly be aware of what we were truly made for, it will be a great joy.

Throughout his history, man has asked the question: What is the purpose of life, and in particular, of my life? Never give up searching for the answer to that question, my friends; it is important. But don’t look for the answer by looking at what other people are, or what other people think of you, or what you should do. The answer will come to you through the vine. And if you are open to being made aware of it, one day you may suddenly realize what you are and what you were made for, or even some small part of that answer – and you will be surprised, for you will become aware that you are not like any other person. And it will give you great joy.

I am an evangelist. Perhaps that is no great thing, but it is a part of who I am, some small part of why I exist, right now. It is a good thing – no, it is a blessing -- to know.