We were rehearsing the Rite of Confirmation for the upcoming Sunday. I was reading the powerful words of invocation that I pronounce over each young man or woman...

"Father in heaven, for Jesus' sake, stir up in____________________the gift of

your Holy Spirit; confirm his/her faith, guide his/her life, empower

him/her in his/her serving, give him/her patience in suffering and bring

him/her to the abundant life."

My voice cracked. Tears welled up and the kids looked up. They were expecting it but it still kind of threw them. Most of the students had witnessed Confirmation in prior years and knew that of all the services I lead, this is the one I can barely get through. Here we were in rehearsal and I was already having trouble!

Somehow I managed to muddle my way to the finish and I prayed that the kids would manage to be where they were supposed to be come 10:30 on Sunday. After they left, I sat on the chancel floor and pondered the possible reasons for my emotional overflow.

Certainly part of it is that I have, in whatever way God has allowed, traveled a spiritual journey with these boys and girls. I have listened as they have struggled to formulate their faith and shared their frustrations and inspiration. I have watched as they related to one another and shared in the stories they have told of home and school. I have counseled with some of their parents, visited with others, even buried one. I have been, in small and large ways, a part of their lives. They have been a part of mine.

I realized that for many this will be one of the last events they participate in here. Some will leave the church forever. Some will spend a lifetime struggling to find a faith community that is as honest and open as this one. Some will venture down different spiritual paths...not all helpful or healthy. Some will remember what was learned and experienced in the last two years with fondness, some will not.

I sat and prayed that all might experience the gift of adventure, the courage to think, the struggle of honest doubt, the willingness to serve, the joy of grace...but I knew that some will not.

I cry at Confirmation because I re-discover the enormous responsibility we all have for shaping the future of our children, our church, our world. I cry because I realize how often I have failed to seize the opportunity.

There are tears of deep joy, as well. In nearly 16 years of ministry in this place, I continue to discover the enormous privilege afforded me by my position. Some of these kids I have baptized and some I will preside at their weddings. I will watch many graduate from high school. I may, over the coming years, listen as they struggle to make the right choices, decide on the best options. I may even be able to witness an ordination or two. That is reason to celebrate! That is cause for joyful tears!

Sunday came and I held together pretty well through the reading of the names, the confession of the creed, the prayers and the affirmation but when I invited the families forward to join with me in the laying on of hands, my composure collapsed, my voice was gone and the tears came in torrents.

I don't think the kids were surprised at all. I wasn't. Neither, I suspect, was God.