R e m e m b e r W h o Yo u A r e“Remember who you are.” Those were the last words a layperson at my church spoke to me as I prepared to begin my freshman year at the University of Indianapo-lis in the fall of 1997. At the time I thought I knew what those words meant, and I didn’t see any need for anyone to worry about me forgetting who I was. I fig-ured my memory was pretty good. Besides, my parents had raised me well, and if this man was afraid I would suddenly transform into a wild, rebellious partier and leave my Christian upbringing behind me, he was sore-ly mistaken. But his words stuck with me as I loaded boxes into our family car and merged southbound onto Interstate 65 that August.

Driving down the road, I began to wonder what exactly he had meant by those four little words, “remember who you are,” and the warm embrace that had accom-panied them. What I didn’t know then was how those words would continue to stick with me, challenge me, shape me, call me back, and call me forward. What I didn’t know was that his simple statement to “remem-ber who you are” would eventually lead me to the threshold of discovering who I was as a child of God.

I stumbled upon that threshold in 1999 when I came upon the phrase “remember who you are” once again. The phrase was part of the title of a book by Wil-liam H. Willimon, Remember Who You Are: Baptism, A Model for Christian Life, and it was through Willi-mon’s book, and my reflections on it as part of my first Christian Vocations class at UIndy, that I began one of the most significant spiritual journeys of my life. In his book, Willimon speaks of baptism as being “a lifelong process of God’s work in us.” 2 Rather than focusing upon the moment of baptism, Willimon explores the significance of baptism as a primary identifying factor in the lives of baptized Christians.

Through my reading and reflection on the book The Baptismal liturgy of The United Methodist Church and my own baptism as in infant in 1978, I began to understand myself as defined not by my earthly family or the friends and enemies of my adolescence, but by my identity as a child of God whom God chose and loved as his own long before I was old enough to make a conscious response. I began to recognize all the ways in which God was at work in my life throughout my childhood and how God continues to be present with me and mold and shape me even when I fail to sense

Crossings Reflection #11 1

“Education for Service” in RetrospectA UIndy Alumna’s Journey in Vocational Discernment

Rev. Shalimar W. Holderly, Class of 2001

1 Crossings Reflections are occasional essays by members of the University community on various topics that contribute to questions of vocation, professional identity, and human flourishing in the context of the University’s motto of “Education for Service.” Copies of these occasional papers published by the Office of Ecumenical & Interfaith Programs are available upon request for use on and off campus. This reflection was originally given as a talk to a group of United Methodist Youth Leader Scholars at the University of Indianapolis in May 2004. Rev. Shalimar Holderly has updated the text of her remarks to reflect what has transpired in her life over the past five years.

2. William H. Willimon. Remember Who You Are: Baptism, a Model for Christian Life. The Upper Room: Nashville, 1980. Page 87.

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God’s presence or feel God near. Ever since reading Willimon’s book, when asked to recount my spiritual journey, I always begin with my baptism as I have come to consider my baptism the most significant event of my life.

Shalimar with her parents at her baptism and at her confirmation

G e t t i n g S t a r t e d a t U I n d yWhen I arrived at UIndy as a freshman in the fall of 1997, I had a pretty clear idea of who I was and where I was headed. I was going to be a religion major, be heav-ily involved in campus ministry, and eventually gradu-ate and continue my education at a United Methodist seminary. I expected to be challenged by my classes and shaped by my experiences, but I was in no way prepared for the major formative and transformative experiences I was about to encounter over the course of the next four years. Even less so was I prepared for the ways that journey would continue to transform me through seminary and beyond.

S h a p e d b y O u r E x p e r i e n c e sOne of the things that I became very aware of as a stu-dent is how our experiences shape us. The schools we enroll in, the majors we choose, the friends we make, and the extracurricular activities we become involved in all come together to mold us into who we are. College is an especially formative time because, for many of us, it is our first opportunity to try our hand at some mea-sure of independent living. We move all our stuff into a little cement cubicle in a residence hall and wave good-bye to our parents as we launch out into the uncharted world of “independence.” Distanced from our parents, our high school friends, and our old extracurricular

activities, a whole world of opportunities opens to us. We are given a clean slate and the chance to make our own decisions about what to write on it. Who will our friends be? What activities will we be involved in? What will we study? What kinds of influences will we expose ourselves to? The decision to enroll at an intentionally church-related institution like the University of Indianapolis and the decision to participate in the Lantz Center course series on Christian vocation and formation are two such life-shaping decisions.

William Willimon has a wonderful quote in his book Pastor: The Theology and Practice of Ordained Ministry concerning the formative significance of these kinds of influences. He says, “The issue is not, Shall I be exter-nally determined by some community of interpretation and authorization? The issue is, Which community will have its way with my life? Or perhaps more accurately, will the community that determines, interprets, and authorizes me be worthy of my life?” 3 In other words, regardless of what we do, where we go, or who we associate with, our lives are going to be influenced and shaped by those decisions and we are going to come out of those experiences and relationships different than when we went in.

Shalimar with the assistant dean and fellow interns of Duke Chapel

The question is not whether we will allow ourselves to be formed by these experiences. The question is what kinds of activities and relationships we will allow our-selves to be formed by.

3. William H. Willimon, Pastor: The Theology and Practice of Ordained Ministry. Nashville: Abingdon Press, 2002. Pg. 19. emphasis added.

E d u c a t i o n f o r S e r v i c eIn my case, there is no question that my experiences during my years as a student at UIndy have made a big impact on my life. I have always attributed great value to UIndy’s motto, “Education for Service” and the extent to which the University seeks to live out that motto through its curriculum as well as its extracurricu-lar activities. However, it was only after being exposed to the loose relationship between other educational institutions and their mottoes that I realized how remarkable UIndy’s active effort was to embody its motto “Education for Service.” As a graduate student at Duke University, I worked in an undergraduate dormitory among students who were largely obsessed with climbing the ladder of worldly success with little thought for those around them, and the experience made me very thankful to have come from an institu-tion where students are encouraged to use their educa-tion in service to their community, and not solely for personal gain. I am proud of the importance UIndy places on building service-learning opportunities into its curriculum, not only in more service-oriented majors such as religion and social work, but also among the hard sciences and business courses. I am also thank-ful for the many opportunities I had to be of service to my community while I was a student at the University of Indianapolis.

C a l l e d t o S e r v eOne of the many ways I sought to embody the motto “Education for Service” while at UIndy and since my graduation has been my involvement in mission trips and community service events. When I first began going on mission trips, I remember people telling me about the dramatic life-changing experiences I would have, as though sawing the ends off several dozen two by fours in West Virginia would altar the direction of my entire life. I know there are those whose lives have been radically changed by a mission experience, but I’ve always been somewhat baffled by people’s insistence that all mission trips are life-changing.

Since my first trip with UIndy to the Appalachia mountains in 1998, I have participated in more than 20 mission trips in eight states and seven countries, andI have not come back from a single one of them feeling that my life was drastically changed by the experience. I went on to live as I had always lived and pursue the goals I was already pursuing.

Shalimar on a mission trip to Fatima House orphanage in Fondwa, Haiti, in 2004

However, as I look back over all those experiences, I can say that those opportunities have changed my life, because they have changed my perception of who I am in relation to the rest of the world. When I celebrate communion in my church, I celebrate with my broth-ers and sisters at Iglesia Evangelica Metodista in San Isidro, Costa Rica.

Shalimar on a mission trip to Monterrey, Mexico, in 2005

When I watch children walking to school, I see the barefooted children of Fondwa, Haiti, walking up the dirt paths with their schoolbooks in tow. When I work with people struggling with developmental handicaps, I am in the company of my friends in the L’Arche Community of Stratford, Canada. And when I drive through the poorer neighborhoods of my city, I remember the abandoned coal camps of the Appala-chian mountains and the struggles of miners’ families. Through my mission experiences I have come to a greater understanding of the world around me and of my call to serve the people of this world by sharing with them, in word and deed, the love of Christ.

Fo o t w a s h i n gOne of the passages of scripture that became extraor-dinarily significant to me during my time at UIndy was John 13, the passage in which John narrates the account of Jesus washing his disciples’ feet. My favorite window in Duke Chapel depicts this scene. The dis-ciples are all sitting around the table at the Last Supper while Jesus washes Judas’ feet. With the exception of perhaps one, not a single disciple, Judas included, is paying a bit of attention to what Jesus is doing. Their eyes are diverted, looking off into space somewhere, seemingly oblivious to this act of selfless service Jesus is demonstrating.

I had participated in footwashing services before com-ing to UIndy, but it was at UIndy that footwashing took on real significance for me—the act of kneeling before another, taking their feet in my hands, and providing a service for them without ever expecting anything in return. I have participated in footwashing services many times in the past ten years, and each time I am reminded of the opportunity I have to humble myself and serve others just as Christ served us. I remember attending a Brethren Church in Indianapolis during a Maundy Thursday service and being touched by how tenderly and thoroughly the ladies in my circle washed one another’s feet, careful to clean between each toe, to wash every inch of flesh.

Some years later when I participated in another foot-washing service, I was taken aback by a pastor’s sugges-tion that we avoid actually “touching” each others feet, and just kind of sprinkle water over the tops of our neighbor’s feet as a symbolic gesture. For me, footwash-ing is more than a symbolic gesture, it is an embodi-ment of the type of service to which I am called, and

the type of person I am called to be. God does not call me to practice my ministry with a “hands-off” attitude that seeks to avoid anything dirty or uncomfortable. God calls me to reach in with the whole of my life, to

take into my hands the pain and awkwardness of God’s people, and offer them the cleansing power of God’s love. I continue to find the imagery of footwashing to be inspiring. The image of the basin and towel is on the Lantz medallion that I was given when I was commissioned for Christian Service through the Lantz Center, and I used that same image in the small clay desk object that I gave to Dr. Cartwright as a gift when I graduated. To this day I have a framed photograph of myself washing my friend Becca’s feet at a Christian Life retreat sometime during my college years. A large painting of Christ washing his disciple’s feet hangs in my living room, a small statue of the same resides in my office, a copy of the window at Duke Chapel is displayed on my piano, and the symbol of the basin and towel rests on the banner made for me when I was ordained.

Shalimar washes her friend Becca’s feet at a Christian Life retreat during her time at UIndy

Duke Chapel stained glass window with the images of Jesus washing his disciples’ feet at the Last Supper

At her ordination on June 2, 2007, Shalimar displayed a banner with vari-ous images such as the symbol of the basin and towel

I forget sometimes how odd all my depictions of footwashing seem to others, but then I remember the questioning look on my friend Hazim’s face when he first noticed the framed photo of me washing Becca’s feet. Hazim, an observant Muslim from Palestine who worked with me in the residence hall at Duke, was taken aback by the odd picture and wondered, first, why I would venture to wash someone else’s feet, and second, why on earth I would want to display a picture of it in my room. I told him the story of how Jesus washed his disciples’ feet (as recorded in John’s Gospel), then I simply said, “It helps me remember who I am.” I am Christ’s servant; I am called to serve.

L o o k i n g B a c k a t t h e B e g i n n i n g o f t h e L a n t z C e n t e rI remember, sometime during my freshman year, reading over one of the first proposals Dr. Cartwright drafted concerning a proposed “Center for Christian Vocations” at the University of Indianapolis. He had asked me to let him know what I thought about the idea. I have no recollection of what I said in response to his proposal, but I do know that the birth of the Lantz Center for Christian Vocations and the opportunity I had to participate in that birthing has had an enormous impact on my life.

Chaplain John Young, Teresa Seward, and the Lantz Center directors lay hands on Shalimar’s head during the prayer of blessing for her life at the Christian Vocations Commissioning Service in April 2001

The journaling exercises we did as part of the Voca-tion Exploration and Formation classes led me into some intensive and enlightening reflections on my life and career aspirations, and the opportunity I had to share those reflections with professors Cartwright and Clapper and receive their feedback helped me to sort

through a myriad of thoughts and pushed me to dig deeper where I had not yet thought through things deeply enough.

Shalimar at her UIndy graduation with Professor Greg Clapper

Many of the spiritual practices we studied remain a part of my life today and find their way into my ministry as I seek to pass on the wisdom of these disciplines to my congregation. I still keep a copy of the Rule of Life I wrote as part of a Lantz Center class. My inter-est in monasticism, fueled by my experiences on Lantz Center retreats at St. Meinrad’s and Our Lady of Grace, the internship I served at Benedict Inn Conference and Retreat Center (Beech Grove, Ind.), and my study of St. Benedict and Thomas Merton have continued to have a hold on my life.

R e m e m b e r i n g W h o We A r e A m i d t h e Un p r e d i c t a b i l i t y o f C h r i s t i a n M i n i s t r yWhen I was admitted to the University of Indianapolis as an undergraduate more than ten years ago, I fancied myself as having a fairly clear sense of who I was and where I was headed. I was certain that God had called me to pastor the local church and that my studies at college would continue in seminary and eventually cul-minate in my ordination as a United Methodist Elder. I never dreamed of deviating from this path; and sure enough it is the path I am still on today. In June 2004, I was commissioned as a probationary Elder in the North Indiana Conference of the UMC and three years later I was ordained an Elder in June 2007, just as I had hoped ten years before.

Shalimar receives the symbolic mantle from the retiring class during the Liturgy of the Stole at her ordination service in June 2007.

But, as similar as it may seem to an outside observer, the vocational path I find myself on today looks and feels very different than it did to me when I was a freshman at UIndy. I thought I knew what a career in ordained ministry would look like; but now that I am well into my fifth year in full time ministry, I realize more than ever how unpredictable ordained ministry can be. Each church is different, each person is unique, each ministry opportunity requires learning and growth, and with each step I am called to discover spiritual disciplines that will not only nurture my own life, but will nurture the lives of others as well. I preach to a people who come from all walks of life. I sit by the bedsides of dying men and women and support their families through the hard work of grief. I teach people who have been given little opportunity for serious study, work with spiritually hungry children whose parents refuse to join them in church, offer hope to people who feel their hope is fading, and proclaim the resurrection in the face of certain death.

As a pastor, I don’t always know the right words to say or the right actions to take, and I’m constantly relying upon the Holy Spirit to intercede and show me the way when the way before me seems dim. My own dreams for my congregation and for my own life fall into ten-sion with the commitment I made to go where I am sent, when I am sent and the realization that, when it comes down to it, I am not in control of my own life but that I have given my life in service to God. I find myself praying with Thomas Merton more earnestly than ever, “My Lord God, I have NO IDEA where I am going!” 4

Shalimar during a service at Nine Mile UMC

Perhaps the most amazing thing about the level of uncertainty I sometimes experience concerning my future is the fact that I am now more comfortable living with such unpredictability about the future. I no longer feel that I need to know where I am going. I don’t need to hold the reins to my own life. I have learned to pray the Wesleyan Covenant Prayer (see next page) that we discussed in the Christian Vocations course in which we wrote our commitment statements and rule of life.

Somewhere in the midst of college and seminary, I found space in my life for God to surprise me with twists and turns I could never have anticipated. I knew that I would graduate from the University with a bach-elor’s degree and would continue my education at a seminary and eventually be ordained an Elder. That was more or less a given in my young mind.

4. Thomas Merton’s prayer has been published in Dialogues with Silence: Prayers & Drawings edited by Jonathan Montaldo (San Francisco, CA: Harper Collins Publishers, 2001), vii.

Shalimar stands with young par-ishoner Courtney Snyder following a worship service at Nine Mile UMC

What I didn’t know and could never have anticipated when I decided to enroll at UIndy as a student was the many ways in which God would work in my life through the people I crossed paths with during my four years here and my subsequent years at Duke. When I came here as a freshman, I didn’t know I would find myself working with Michael Cartwright for the next four years, helping to plan and then participate in what was then a very new venture in Christian explora-tion and formation in a college setting. I didn’t know that I would spend much of those four years assisting Dr. Cartwright with editing and being formed by The Hauerwas Reader, a collection of essays by theologian Stanley Hauerwas. I would later have the opportunity to use this book at Duke Divinity School in a class taught by Prof. Hauerwas.

And I didn’t know that, after hours of reflection on William Willimon’s book Remember Who You Are, I would not only meet William Willimon one day, but would take one of his classes in seminary, work with him as an intern at Duke Chapel where he served as dean, and come to count him as a dear friend and one of many in the cloud of witnesses who has had a signifi-cant impact on my own vocational formation.

As I stand before my church each Sunday, preaching the Gospel and teaching my congregation the marks of discipleship, I stand with a whole host of professors and colleagues and friends and family and mentors looking over my shoulders, urging me on and whispering into my ear, “Remember who you are.” My years with the Lantz Center for Christian Vocations and Formation while I was a student at UIndy shaped me, and they

continue to shape me as I seek to live a life of radi-cal discipleship and lead Nine Mile United Methodist Church in its mission to “share and teach the love of Jesus throughout the community and the world.”

Rev. Shalimar Holderly ’01 is the Pastor, Nine Mile United Methodist Church, one of the congregations in the Fort Wayne District in the Indiana Conference UMC. She can be contacted via e-mail at holderlysw@yahoo.com

Please note: All photographs of Shalimar Holderly used in this paper are used with her permission. The photograph of the window in Duke Chapel is also used with permission.

Shalimar visits with William Willimon on the campus of Duke University

We s l e y a n C o v e n a n t P r a y e rI am no longer my own, but thine.Put me to what thou wilt, rank me with whom thou wilt.Put me to doing, put me to suffering.Let me be employed for thee or laid aside for thee,exalted for thee or brought low for thee.Let me be full, let me be empty.Let me have all things, let me have nothing.I freely and heartily yield all things to thy pleasure and disposal.And now, O glorious and blessed God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit,thou art mine, and I am thine. So be it.And the covenant which I have made on earth,let it be ratified in heaven. Amen.

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