Friday, July 12, 2013

Ten Years Ago Today

Ten years ago today, July 12, 2003, was a Saturday.  After three and a half years of undergrad in Minneapolis, six months of 'in-between' time in Athens, Georgia, chasing my future wife, and four years at seminary in Columbia, South Carolina, I found myself deposited in a wonderful little country church outside the greater metropolitan area of Cashton, Wisconsin.  The last few months had been stressful, to say the least.  In March I had been drafted into Region 5 of the ELCA which includes Wisconsin, Iowa and Illinois.  For my wife of less than a year, there were tears (which meant that for me there were tears, too).  Soon thereafter, I learned that the La Crosse Area Synod got dibs on me and that there was just one or maybe two possibilities for me in the whole synod.  Bishop April Larson assured us that we'd love what she had in mind... but she couldn't tell us yet.  Secrets about our future don't go well with my lovely bride, so the Bishop's office became VERY familiar with Carla's voice.  May 31 - the date when we had to move out of student housing - was coming soon and we had not so much as a clue as to where we'd interview, much less be called.  But by the second week of June we visited this little town east of La Crosse and within days we accepted a call to the 3 point parish of Cashton.  Their pastor of ten years, Greg Geier, had been discerning his own departure the last couple months (hence the inability of the Bishop to tell us what was or was not happening) and the moment he left would be the moment I started.  In fact, on July 12, 2003, Greg was one of the exhorters at my ordination.
Before I even began serving as their Pastor, I already had a pastoral choice to make.  Where to be ordained?  None of the three congregations that make up the 3 Point Parish are large enough to support their own Pastor.  They had been sharing for something like 70 years, so these kinds of issues were nothing new.  But typically, events like these were held at Trinity - the 'in town' church across from the parsonage.  I decided, however, to honor Immanuel with this celebration.  I figured it wouldn't hurt to get the members there on my side however I could.  Besides, it's beautiful.  Inside and out from the dark wood furniture to the altar mural with Jesus lifting Peter from sinking into the water... from the windows to the graveyard just outside its doors.   It was a typically warm, July day.  There was no air conditioning, except for the wind.  It smelled fresh and grassy.  It was sunny outside.  All in all, it was an idyllic spot for one of the most formational moments of my life.
Worship on that Saturday was everything it's supposed to be.  And trust me, recently graduated seminarians know exactly what it is supposed to be.  I wonder now what those who were there thought of all the special music, words and rites.  I remember seeing more than a dozen future colleagues process in to Immanuel's (everybody in Cashton called it the 'Moen' church, but I refused.  With a name like 'Immanuel' which means, God with us, why would you call it anything else?) sanctuary robed in red stoles and feeling amazed that the time had actually come for me to serve the Church.  As worship went on, I heard it all.  Any cold feet or sense of dread had been expressed the night before.  This was a day to fully embrace the burden and joy of the mantel about to be given me.  After the stole was given, other clergy who were present laid their hands on me.  And it felt heavy.  After the entire ritual was complete, I felt different, because my life had changed.  I had truly been set apart to do church work.
The first task for an ordained pastor in the Lutheran Church is to preside over communion.  To be clear, I graduated in the top 5% of my high school class.  I received a 4 year President's Scholarship to Augsburg College.  And I passed seminary (it's a pass/fail system in seminary... 'P' for Pastor;).  But for the life of me I couldn't remember the words of institution at my own ordination.  I hacked that prayer up so bad that I actually wondered whether Bishop Larson may just break in and perform a 're-do'.  But she didn't.  And no one (OK, hardly anyone) laughed at me.  And I think Jesus still showed up, even, despite me.
Ten years into this ordination that began so beautifully, so powerfully and so full of mistakes, I see that little has changed for me.  I still lead worship in a beautiful setting, God still displays unbelievable love and grace for me and those I love and God still shows up constantly despite me.  I have spent the day remembering and writing down some of my most memorable moments in ministry.  From bats in Trinity's belfry to water coming into my office from leaks in the roof.  From the organ mysteriously dying at Trinity on Christmas Eve (it did get resuscitated just in time) to dramatically lowering the veil on First's window Easter morning... at least partially lowering.  There are many moments in ministry to remember, but mostly I think of the people.  I continue to be amazed at how God grows people into my own heart.  Little people, old people, smart famers and ditzy professionals.  Being a Pastor, more than anything, has meant loving people in the name of Jesus.  And I have been given the ability to love, for which I am VERY thankful.  If I were to die tomorrow, I would consider my ministry a success.  If I am to live many more years, I will always thank God for my first ten years!

1 comment:

  1. I remember the day well. It's all good, even when it's not.

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