Yesterday was such a beautiful Sunday, a beautiful culmination of some great years of ministry. It began, perhaps appropriately, with my arrival at church to discover a burst pipe and a flooded basement. My contribution to the effort was to call the right church people on the phone. Before long, the offending water line was shut off, and the floor was being suctioned dry.
My biggest fear was that I would be a crumpled and teary mess from the very beginning of the morning and continue that way throughout the day. Instead, I was able to hold myself together and enjoy the experiences of the day. There were some powerful moments of God’s grace that morning. I did really well, until the final verse of “Blest Be the Tie,” the traditional Methodist hymn of parting. “When we asunder part, it gives us inward pain . . .” I just clutched onto Andy a little bit harder and made it through. The luncheon was a great deal of fun, and the gifts from the church were heartfelt and amazingly generous.
As I now turn my attention fully to where I am going, I know this: God’s grace, which has provided so abundantly so far, will surely guide me in this next adventure. I have only one fear (so far) about next Sunday morning: If I get to church and a water line is burst, how will I know who to call?
Monday, June 28, 2010
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Last Day in the Office
The boxes stacked behind my desk chair block my view out the window. I reach for needed items in my desk drawers, only to realize that they are empty. My Book of Worship sits, solitary, on my bookshelf, in case of a last-minute funeral. (Thankfully, it does not seem to be needed.) I’m finishing up my last sermon, and the rest of my to-do list is pretty well done in this place. Soon, I’ll crank up the Jimmy Buffett and Beach Boys and start into my final packing. Once I’m done today, this office will no longer be “mine” in any functional way.
People who will not be present at church on Sunday have been saying goodbye already. One especially dear friend just dropped by, and we stood awkwardly amid the boxes and tried not to cry our farewell. I am steeling myself for Sunday. I want to smile and celebrate and laugh at memories. The good times here deserve no less. I want to acknowledge my certain assurance that God is at work in this move, and I want to do so in a way that will allow the church here to share that same trust. I really don’t want to cry the entire morning on Sunday. But I just might.
Endings and beginnings are part of God’s good plan for us. Shortly, beach music will be resonating through my office in Warrensburg one last time. And, on Tuesday, I’ll crank up the beach music in Blue Springs as I begin my unpacking into a next wonderful adventure. I hope the staff there likes Buffett . . .
People who will not be present at church on Sunday have been saying goodbye already. One especially dear friend just dropped by, and we stood awkwardly amid the boxes and tried not to cry our farewell. I am steeling myself for Sunday. I want to smile and celebrate and laugh at memories. The good times here deserve no less. I want to acknowledge my certain assurance that God is at work in this move, and I want to do so in a way that will allow the church here to share that same trust. I really don’t want to cry the entire morning on Sunday. But I just might.
Endings and beginnings are part of God’s good plan for us. Shortly, beach music will be resonating through my office in Warrensburg one last time. And, on Tuesday, I’ll crank up the beach music in Blue Springs as I begin my unpacking into a next wonderful adventure. I hope the staff there likes Buffett . . .
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Soft-spoken, yet Outspoken
Today, I learned another reason to hold my dad in great admiration. While helping my parents get ready for their impending move to an apartment in Kingswood Manor, I found old newspaper story about my father. During the late 1950’s into the early 1960’s, Dad was a journalist for the then-Atlanta Journal. He wrote a features column which often held a mirror to the city in the early days of the civil rights struggle. Dad interviewed Martin Luther King, Jr. the night that he was in the Atlanta jail- an interview that never was published, but that’s a different story . . .
Most of the time, however, his stories were more indirect. One of my favorites was his account of the segregated gallery for observers of the Georgia Legislature. Rather than rail against the injustice of the accepted practice of the time, my father simply narrated the story of a young African-American boy who kept slipping past the guard who was guarding the empty, whites-only front row seats. The boy was too young to read the “whites only” sign, and he was eager to get the best view of the proceedings possible. The boy’s persistence was no match for the guard, and so the color barrier was broken that day by a young child.
When my dad moved to another job, a colleague wrote an article about him. In that column, my father was described as “soft-spoken, yet outspoken.” I love that phrase. It describes perfectly the man I’ve been privileged to have as my father. I still want to be like him when I grow up!
Most of the time, however, his stories were more indirect. One of my favorites was his account of the segregated gallery for observers of the Georgia Legislature. Rather than rail against the injustice of the accepted practice of the time, my father simply narrated the story of a young African-American boy who kept slipping past the guard who was guarding the empty, whites-only front row seats. The boy was too young to read the “whites only” sign, and he was eager to get the best view of the proceedings possible. The boy’s persistence was no match for the guard, and so the color barrier was broken that day by a young child.
When my dad moved to another job, a colleague wrote an article about him. In that column, my father was described as “soft-spoken, yet outspoken.” I love that phrase. It describes perfectly the man I’ve been privileged to have as my father. I still want to be like him when I grow up!
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
What Books Do After Dark
Okay, I have discovered what it is that books do during all of those long nights alone in my office. They mate and multiply. I have spent the better part of the last two days packing the books in my office. As I pack, I am trying to cull out as many books as possible, and my donation pile is growing.
There are some very good books in my donation pile. There are books that have been an instructive part of my past, and many that are still relevant. There are some old friends in that pile. However, as I look at my books as potential items to pack, lug, and unpack, I have been discarding many worthy books. My current criterion is to ask myself, “Will I open this book ever again?” For instance, many preaching books that I relied on a decade ago, when the lectionary was the main guide for my preaching, are not as useful now. When I do preach on the lectionary these days, I do much of my research online. Other books are outdated, and other books simply weren’t as good as I thought that they would be.
There are still plenty of books that have made the cut and are moving to Blue Springs. These are books that I hope will help me to be a more effective pastor, whether through the import of the theology, the beauty of the language, or the practicality of the advice. (All of my Erma Bombeck books are coming, of course.) These books, however, had better know how to behave themselves after dark!
There are some very good books in my donation pile. There are books that have been an instructive part of my past, and many that are still relevant. There are some old friends in that pile. However, as I look at my books as potential items to pack, lug, and unpack, I have been discarding many worthy books. My current criterion is to ask myself, “Will I open this book ever again?” For instance, many preaching books that I relied on a decade ago, when the lectionary was the main guide for my preaching, are not as useful now. When I do preach on the lectionary these days, I do much of my research online. Other books are outdated, and other books simply weren’t as good as I thought that they would be.
There are still plenty of books that have made the cut and are moving to Blue Springs. These are books that I hope will help me to be a more effective pastor, whether through the import of the theology, the beauty of the language, or the practicality of the advice. (All of my Erma Bombeck books are coming, of course.) These books, however, had better know how to behave themselves after dark!
Monday, June 21, 2010
Completion
Yesterday was my penultimate Sunday in Warrensburg. (Gee, I’ve always hoped for a good occasion to use such a hefty word!) In one way, though, it was a day of completion. When I arrived here 5 years ago, we were on the cusp of a capital campaign to raise money to do something with our outdated, inaccessible facility. That “something” turned into a beautiful addition and a renovation of our entire facility, including the sanctuary. As we designed and drew and redesigned, there were some things that we placed on a “not right now” list, due to cost. One of those items was a cross to be hung on the back wall of the chancel.
On Sunday, we dedicated the newly-installed cross. The cross was given in memory of faithful woman, Elsa Engelmann, who sang in our church on her 100th and 101st birthdays. The cross is beautiful, made of the same oak that fills our sanctuary, with an inlaid brass channel. It is simple and classic, and it adds so much to our worship space. During the doxology, I found myself looking up at that cross. Seeing it there adds such a sense of reverence.
And so now I look at the sanctuary and can say, “It is complete.” There is another improvement, yet to come after I leave, but this cross completes what was on our original drawings, part of our original hopes and dreams. And I am thankful for the ways that God does indeed fulfill hopes and dreams. God works in us and truly completes each of us.
On Sunday, we dedicated the newly-installed cross. The cross was given in memory of faithful woman, Elsa Engelmann, who sang in our church on her 100th and 101st birthdays. The cross is beautiful, made of the same oak that fills our sanctuary, with an inlaid brass channel. It is simple and classic, and it adds so much to our worship space. During the doxology, I found myself looking up at that cross. Seeing it there adds such a sense of reverence.
And so now I look at the sanctuary and can say, “It is complete.” There is another improvement, yet to come after I leave, but this cross completes what was on our original drawings, part of our original hopes and dreams. And I am thankful for the ways that God does indeed fulfill hopes and dreams. God works in us and truly completes each of us.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
The Methodist Way
I was having breakfast yesterday with a trusted friend, who knows much about our denomination. He said, “I wish that our system gave pastors a couple of weeks between appointments, to prepare themselves mentally for their new appointment.” Alas, that is not The Methodist Way.
My world, however, feels similar to what he described. True, I am showing up at my current church most days. My phone has stopped ringing, and the tasks ahead of me in this place are minimal. I won’t pack my office until the week before I leave, and so I am in an interim period. I have found that this time has been a time of special blessing. I’ve been reading some books that I hope will make me a better pastor. I’ve been studying up on my new congregation and working to finish up a few more things in my current congregation. There has been some added time for reflection, prayer, and celebration. The rate of goodbyes is accelerating daily, as I encounter more “last” things here. This time of closure feels precious.
Stepping into a new place the very next Sunday after I step of my current place may seem rushed to some. For me, I expect that it will feel like a continuation of the ministry which I’ve been in for the past 26 years. And getting to experience a lot of “hellos” on the heels of many “goodbyes” sounds like a good and healing way to live in God’s world.
My world, however, feels similar to what he described. True, I am showing up at my current church most days. My phone has stopped ringing, and the tasks ahead of me in this place are minimal. I won’t pack my office until the week before I leave, and so I am in an interim period. I have found that this time has been a time of special blessing. I’ve been reading some books that I hope will make me a better pastor. I’ve been studying up on my new congregation and working to finish up a few more things in my current congregation. There has been some added time for reflection, prayer, and celebration. The rate of goodbyes is accelerating daily, as I encounter more “last” things here. This time of closure feels precious.
Stepping into a new place the very next Sunday after I step of my current place may seem rushed to some. For me, I expect that it will feel like a continuation of the ministry which I’ve been in for the past 26 years. And getting to experience a lot of “hellos” on the heels of many “goodbyes” sounds like a good and healing way to live in God’s world.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Sneior Discount
Senior Discount. This morning, at a chain restaurant in Lee’s Summit that shall remain nameless (but rhymes with “gherkins”), something happened to me for the First Time Ever. The waitress handed me a menu and pointed out the “senior specials” on the back. The menu even said, “for those 55 or older.” I am 8 years too young to qualify for that menu!
Initially, I was kind of hurt. I don’t think that I am particularly vain, but I also don’t think that I look like I qualify for a senior discount. I was about to be quite indignant, but then something caught my eye. The eggs benedict that I had been about to order off of the regular menu were on this menu- but as a smaller serving and a smaller price. Hmmm. What had initially been slightly insulting now seemed like an opportunity.
As I dug into my senior-sized plate of eggs benedict, I decided happily to myself that growing old really does have its benefits. Why fight it? I’ll be sure to open the next solicitation that AARP sends me, so that the benefits can roll in!
Initially, I was kind of hurt. I don’t think that I am particularly vain, but I also don’t think that I look like I qualify for a senior discount. I was about to be quite indignant, but then something caught my eye. The eggs benedict that I had been about to order off of the regular menu were on this menu- but as a smaller serving and a smaller price. Hmmm. What had initially been slightly insulting now seemed like an opportunity.
As I dug into my senior-sized plate of eggs benedict, I decided happily to myself that growing old really does have its benefits. Why fight it? I’ll be sure to open the next solicitation that AARP sends me, so that the benefits can roll in!
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