When I was undergoing treatment at the Eppley Center in Omaha, NE., my wife told me that, if I got sober, I might be able to become the minister I wanted to be. It was the fall of '76 and the whole thing seemed absurd. I had been in a shell for most of my life, and I had little commitment to much more than "getting ahead." I couldn't remember most of my past... and I had been beaten by alcohol at the age of 30. Thinking of others, or even of myself with any clarity, was not my strong suit, and I was, at once, too proud to ask for help and afraid of my own shadow. I looked at Sherry, who came down to see me (with our two little girls in tow) everyday, and wondered how anything good could come of my life. I had some talent- I knew that- but I didn't have any purpose or direction... nor any real hope of finding either one.
They let me out of the place after 30 days and I continued on with my life. I returned to work and attended meetings. I also began to attend church because I had responded to Christ's call in my life while I was in treatment. It was Pastor Lu who led me in the "Sinner's Prayer," and I wanted him to help me grow as a Christian. Sherry and I joined small groups in the church. We joined in fellowship events and, from time to time, I would tell "my story" to groups outside the church, I was "on my way" as a Christian, but spiritual maturity was elusive. I continued on my spiritual journey and God was faithful...but I also continued to struggle with pride and temptation. One step forward and two back, falling down and getting up, letting myself and others down and making amends- that pretty well sums up my spiritual life then. I was gaining a little ground, but I was picking up a lot of bumps and bruises.
Over time. it became clear that serenity wasn't going to come easily to me. There was too much conflict in my spirit, too much pain in my heart, too many doubts in my head... to be of much use to God, but in the face of all my inadequacies, God led Sherry and me to seminary in the fall of 1989. The classwork was easy and when I was ordained, I had no problem preaching... but I was caught off-guard by the "weight of being pastor" to others. I began to visit people in their time of real need and as I sat with them, I discovered that I had very little to say. When Lonnie asked me why her husband, Bill, had been killed, I didn't have much of an answer (and she didn't agree with the one I gave her). When I visited Isabelle as she was dying, her family told me that she had been hanging on, waiting for me, I asked myself "why?" What could I do, other than to touch her face, hold her hand, and seek God's grace-filled power? I walked down hospital corridors and sometimes, when I approached a family, someone would say- with a lilt in their voice- the pastor is coming! And it became clear that being a pastor was much more about mediating God's presence than simply preaching on Sundays.
Time passed. We moved on to other churches and God continued to prune me. When I arrived in Peoria and decided that I didn't have the time to accept an invitation to a 50th anniversary, I came face-to-face with the pain that such a self-centered decision can cause others... and I was again reminded that my spiritual growth had more to do with vulnerability than achievement. In this particular case I was granted forgiveness, but I promised myself that I would never be too busy to be present to others again. I've done a reasonable job of keeping this promise over the years, and I've learned that being vulnerable is the key to love. If you stand with others- if you let them love you- if you laugh with them and cry with them and just sit and stare with them- if you let them doubt in front of you- then you will become bonded in Christ... and you will be a minister, whether you are ordained or not.
Yesterday, I had breakfast with a friend of mine... and he said that he had heard that I was going to preach at our church in Minooka on the 21st. I told him that I was and then he said, "If you need a lay reader, I would be honored." Well, as he knew, naming lay readers is now above my pay grade, but I was struck by his comment. I know that it's the sort of thing people hear everyday, but it struck me anyway. Perhaps I have learned something. Maybe Sherry's patience and God's steadfast love has paid off. It's 2017 and due to God's grace, I believe that I am the minister that I talked about becoming back in the 70's. When I left the business world in 1989, some people said, "good riddance." Others rejoiced (I'm sure of it). And now a good man like Paul says that he would be honored to stand on the chancel with me. Go figure. God is very, very good. Amen.
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