Convocation Address: "What Time Is It?"

Sept. 9, 2021

Two months ago I sat with Ronald White at a downtown Spokane restaurant. Ron served as Whitworth's campus pastor in the 1970s. In the autumn months of his life, Ron has become one of the nation's preeminent scholars of Abraham Lincoln. He is an exceptional scholar; Ron possesses a pastor's heart; he writes with eloquence and elegance, and he loves Whitworth University. It's a gift to call him a dear friend.
 
So, over eggs and bacon, I told Ron the general themes about what I wanted to say for this address; for this group of students; for a staff and faculty together in the same room, for the first time, in 18 months. I sketched out for Ron a mental draft of my talk . . . what we were coming out of . . . our hopes for community and relational restoration . . . a sense of what was before our students during their college years . . . and finally a word about our identity in Christ.
 
Ron replied, "Scott, you're talking about time. And you're talking about two different aspects of time. You're asking the question, 'What time is it?'" I had designed the rooms of the homily house, but Ron, in three staccato sentences, framed it.
 
The calendar says it is September 9, 2021. But students, what time is it in your life? What time is it in our lives, together, as a university community?
 
The New Testament uses two different words for time: kronos, or chronological time; and kairos, an opportune time; the right time.
 
Kronos time can be friend or foe. Friend: "Oh, don't worry, you've got lots of time." "The time is ripe." Foe: One not so great thing for someone like me, having been at a place for so many years, is that there's a photographical record that documents the deterioration of my physical appearance. Exhibits A, B and C, my Whitworth ID photos spanning decades. "Look, in the style of the times, he's parting his flowing blond locks in the middle; it now appears he had to move his part to the side; well now, it appears that Scott is parting his hair in a circle." The curses of kronos time.
 
Civilizations have been working to mark time for centuries. The evidence suggests that at least 5,000 years ago, calendars had been created. In the centuries that followed, Egyptians, Greeks, and Romans created sundials and water clocks to mark the divisions between night and day. The mechanical clock emerged in the 13th century, followed by the pendulum clock in the 17th century, allowing minutes and seconds to be accurately measured. 
 
In 1878, Canadian Sir Sandiford Fleming proposed a system of worldwide time zones that we still use today—24 time zones spaced 15 degrees of longitude apart, with the notable exception for the good people of Newfoundland, who felt obligated to have their own time zone set on the half hour. All solutions to resolve the worldwide problem of where to be, and when to be there.
 
And you know the drill forward. Your current wristwatch tells you your steps, your heart rate, your calorie count, your mood, when to go to sleep and when to wake up.
 
We've been asking ourselves time-informed questions about these past 18 months: When will things get back to normal? When will I be able to see my parents or grandparents? When will this pandemic end? When will I be able to travel again without worry? When can I throw this mask in the trash heap? When does this class end and the next one begin? How long is he planning on talking today? . . . about 9 more minutes.
 
These are all attempts to measure time quantitatively.
 
I want to invite you to consider time that is qualitative: kairos time. It seems to me that there is so much more significance to that type of time.
 
To answer the question, "What time is it?" we have options.
 
One option is to turn the hands of time backwards. We might look back with nostalgia, when times were better, at least we think so—less strife, less polarized, better this, more that. If we could only go back . . . We can't and we aren't. Votes have been cast and results determined whether they align with our views or not; conversations have been held and opinions voiced for good or for ill; teams have won or lost; deaths or recoveries have occurred; forks in the road have been taken one way or the other; technology has helped us immensely, and, some would argue, has harmed us in other ways.
 
A second option is offered by the book of Ecclesiastes: That would be to live in the present time. The writer declares, "For everything there is a season, a time to plant, and a time to pluck up; a time to weep, and a time to laugh, a time to keep silent and a time to speak." The writer is challenging us to think about those questions, and to think about them right now. We should. We need to be clear-eyed about the problems we face—the pandemic, economic dislocation, isolation and loneliness, massive and ongoing injustices, a climate crisis. The present time matters a great deal. 
 
And then there's the option of kairos time, an opportune time. How might your time at Whitworth prove to be an opportune time? Students, your answer to that question will go a long way in determining how you live into these next months and years while at Whitworth.
 
The word kairos is found in the New Testament in a number of places. The word is used to define an extraordinary time; as a time not to miss or to let slip past; kairos time carries responsibility; it is a call to action; by God's grace and through the Holy Spirit, it is an opportunity that gives us the eyes and ears to discern. Kairos time is transformative time.
 
Among the great joys of my work has been sitting with Whitworth alumni and inviting them to tell me their Whitworth stories. I've sat across tables from hundreds of people who sat where you do now, students; people now in their 30s, 40s, 50s and 80s. And I get the privilege to ask, "How was your time as a Whitworth student a transformative time? As you look back, what made it an opportune time? Who influenced you, and what form did that impact take?" Their responses are all kairos time answers in the midst of kronos time.
 
This is just a sampler plate of some of the things I've been told.
 
Josh: A computer whiz, an entrepreneur, a massive success in business, a good husband and father. He said, "It was a Jan Term trip to Palestine with Dr. Raja Tanas. My eyes were opened to a new culture, different people, those with very different life experiences than I had ever known. That month-long experience has shaped my life in immeasurable ways. In fact, it informs the way I built my business.
 
Kesley: A really smart young woman who found herself absolutely jazzed with her role as a TA in Genetics for Dr. Lee Anne Chaney. Her task was to separate fruit flies according to eye color. That lab prep sparked in her an absolute joy in science. That joy was later surpassed when she got to assist Dr. Mike Sardinia in the neutering of a cat. Are we allowed to do that on campus? Apparently we can; we did, and we do.
 
Frank, who transferred to Whitworth in 1963 with spotty transcripts from more than one previous school. Today, almost 80 years old and having led a fulfilling life in every way, he traces it all to a single conversation with a woman in the Registrar's Office. The woman said, "Let's figure this out. Whitworth is the right place for you." It was.
 
Or for many, it was the staff supervisor, Student Life staff member, coach or director who held them accountable, "Be on time, know your lines, know the plays, know the cues."
 
For others it was someone—faculty, staff, or fellow student—who knew them well enough to pause and ask, "Something's up. Where can I help?" Students walked into an office to talk about their thesis for a term paper, got that resolved, and left the office realizing they had wound up talking about life.
 
For some, it was a deep conversation over coffee about faith and the questions they were trying to resolve for themselves.
 
And sometimes it was being in receipt of tough love that felt like a 2x4 between the eyes. One exchange between student and professor went like this, where the student challenged the grade he received: "Dr. Duvall, I believe I deserve a far better grade on this paper than the C you gave me." Reply, "Andrew, your work provides no evidence of mental perspiration." That former student would say that unyielding standard and expectation changed how he approached his education from that moment forward. He is now a Whitworth trustee. And he gave me permission to share that story today. The subtext from Dr. Duvall was, "I see more in you than you are aware of yourself."
 
And so many more moments of impact by faculty and staff, past and present, who have been called to this noble work and mission.
 
One of my favorite writers is the late Eugene Peterson. In his book, Five Smooth Stones for Pastoral Living, he wrote that Mount Sinai was not some place where the Hebrews went on pilgrimage. It was not a particular destination. Not somewhere on an itinerary. Not somewhere on an ancient map to stop for the night. It was nowhere. But Mount Sinai was the place where God met His people. Where he made Himself and His will known; where He formed a relationship with his chosen people, and where he made a covenant with them. Because of what took place at Mount Sinai, what had been inconsequential geography became consequential geography.
 
For me, for thousands of others, and I trust for you, students, Whitworth University is and will be such a place. A place of consequential geography. 
 
It's where you'll receive an excellent education. A place that will shape you for the life and for the world to come. It's the place where we encounter God in big and small ways.
 
So students, as I close this message, please allow me to make two requests of you and offer a prayer for you. 
 
Request number one: During this opportune time, pay attention. At a reception this summer for Forrest Baird, Professor Meredith Shimizu spoke about how professors are like party hosts—they are people who make sure their guests are getting connected. For you, during this time, those introductions will be to new voices, ideas, and concepts. Pay attention to those introductions. Step into those introductions. See where those introductions may lead. 
 
Listen well to the professor, coach, director, or staff supervisor who is unwilling to accept anything but your very best. It just might be because they see more in you than you see in yourself. 
 
Pay attention to those things that may make us cringe at ourselves, some sort of personal word, or action or thought that reveals the holding of an inner bias, one that reveals our own personal or community brokenness; something that, in our souls, we know we need to tend to.  
 
Request number two: In 20 or so kronos time years, should the Lord grant me sound mind and body, I'll be sitting about six rows up in the bleachers at a Whitworth basketball game, decent chance with Bill, who will definitely be of sound mind and body. Stop by and tell us who it was for you from among this staff and faculty, during this opportune time, about whom you will say, "Right word, right time, right presence, right demand, right listening ear," and then what exactly that was. I would very much enjoy hearing that story. 
 
And the prayer: My prayer for you; and when I say, "My prayer for you," that's not some throwaway line; my offered prayer for you, students, is that you may know, every day, in every fiber of your being, that you bear God's image. This is a God about whom the prophet Isaiah tells us the Lord declares, "Your names are written in the palms of My hands." The apostle Paul reminds us that our names are written in the Book of Life. Wherever you find yourself, on whatever hilltop or in any valley, may you know that in Christ, you are not alone. You bear the image of the Creator. And as a community of people, may we also live in such a way with one another, that in whatever tension or conflict or disagreement, we recognize that the person before us is likewise made in the image of God. That in this community, we are a shining example of Hebrews 3:13, which tells us to encourage one another as long as it is today. It is always today.
 
And more than anything else, may we know in our hearts, minds, and souls the very best reference about Kairos time. In his letter to the Romans, the Apostle Paul wrote, "At just the right time, when we were powerless, Christ died for us." 
 
So, what time is it for you, at this moment in time, during this stretch of years? Kairos time, God's right time, God's opportune time, promises us that the Holy Spirit will help us to answer that question. Trust in the Lord, the Psalmist wrote, for our times are in his hands. By your grace, Lord, help us all to be on watch.
 
Amen.