Sally Hammel, MDiv candidate and a seminarian at Memorial Church, delivered the following remarks at Morning Prayers in Harvard's Memorial Church on September 26, 2019.
♦♦♦
God,
I have no idea where I am going.
I do not see the road ahead of me.
I cannot know for certain where it will end.
nor do I really know myself,
and the fact that I think I am following your will
does not mean that I am actually doing so.
But I believe that the desire to please you
does in fact please you.
And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing.
I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire.
And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road,
though I may know nothing about it.
Therefore will I trust you always
though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death.
I will not fear, for you are ever with me,
and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.
(Thomas Merton)
I first discovered this prayer by Thomas Merton during a course I took in healing prayer ministry at St. Michael’s Episcopal Church in New York City. I carry it around in an index card in my wallet. It’s reassuring to me because it gives me permission to NOT know what I’m doing. I love that.
I am new to this faith business. I come from NYC where I had a 30-year career in advertising—digital media, finance. I am comfortable being a businesswoman where facts and figures rule. Faith? Not so much. In fact, I applied to Harvard Divinity School on a dare.
And yet, when I look back over my life, I see way markers. Similar to the pilgrimage theme we are exploring here at Memorial Church this year, my life has been a sort of pilgrimage.
Six years ago, I was diagnosed with triple negative invasive ductal carcinoma—cancer. I remember hearing the word "chemotherapy" and looking for a wastebasket to throw up in. No. Not me. This couldn’t be happening to me. I didn’t have time for cancer. I had a budget meeting! I shared the news with a work colleague who advised: “You can’t tell anyone—it’ll be the kiss of death for your career, especially at your age.”
I considered this. I could devise a plan to schedule my chemo around vacation and holiday time. I could get a wig. I could even wear makeup.
I could hide—no one would have to know.
And yet, something inside me told me to let go, surrender, ask for help. “You don’t have to do this alone.”
That voice encouraged me to share my truth, my authentic self. Through sharing my experience, I healed and helped others heal. I became a volunteer at Sloan Kettering Hospital where I speak with other cancer patients and we help each other.
Three years ago, in 2016, I walked the Camino de Santiago, a 500-mile pilgrimage across Spain (full disclosure, I only walked 250 miles, but still…). This journey was transformational. Again, asking for help and sharing my truth opened doors to conversations and opportunities I could not have imagined. It was on this journey that I first thought about becoming a hospital chaplain, a path I am now pursuing at HDS. By sharing my truth, my life has been transformed.
At Harvard, there’s tremendous pressure to measure up and not let anyone know we’re struggling. Especially at this time of year, three weeks into the semester, when the reality of the workload really kicks in. You can see it in people’s eyes.
When I admit I don’t know what I’m doing, stop trying to do it alone and share my truth, others open up and share their own struggles: Ella has a flat tire on her bike, Ian can’t find that photo he needs for the presentation he’s giving in an hour, Jaz’s back went out, Nancy’s daughter has the flu. Everyone is dealing with something.
Sharing my struggles allows others to share their own struggles. We are not alone.
Today, I urge you all to take a risk to share your struggles. In the words of Thomas Merton, be brave to say “I have no idea where I’m going.”
You’ll be glad you did and I am confident God will be pleased.