HONORING TODAY,
MOVING FORWARD
Officially, John retires today from a 40 year career as a Minister of Word and Sacrament in the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.). It only seems appropriate that I mark the occasion in this blog. We all know he has a pastor's heart and a love for sharing the Good News of Jesus Christ. Certainly, he is not retiring. We have received lovely reflections from friends and family. I have chosen to let you all read Amy's note since so many of you enjoyed the last post she wrote.
I had the same pastor my entire childhood.
I’m glad he was a good one.
When I was little, he was really big. But he’d sit down right next to us on the low steps in the front of the sanctuary when it was our turn to come close and hear the story he had to tell. I don’t remember what he said, but his voice and his eyes were warm.
I remember my mom said that the old people would complain that his voice dropped at the end of his sentences. But I loved the way his voice trailed off in his pre-sermon prayer, like we were hearing something that was just between him and God, “…the words of my mouth and the meditation of all of our hearts….”
I used to stand beside him sometimes as he greeted people after the service. His smile was real and you could tell he wanted to know the answer to the questions he asked. Which made people linger so the line backed up, but he never seemed to notice, never hurried.
I used to love to lose myself in his hug, the folds of his black robe draping around me in welcome. I think you’re supposed to feel safe like that, and loved, at church. I guess I thought everybody did.
He was smart - very, really. With thoughts that sometimes tangled and trailed their way through his sermons. But it wasn’t the wisdom in his words, it was his humility that had people leaning in to listen.
He was hard to rile, calm in a conflict, with a unique self-certainty and immense patience for the process of building consensus, for the slow hard work of forming disciples.
When I went to college, I sat in the pews before other pastors and tried to count up how many sermons I must have heard him preach over the years. I can’t remember a single one. But I know his God, love his Savior.
He was my first pastor,
the one to whom I compare every other pastor,
the pastor I hope to be.
From Amy, with love, on the occasion
of Dad’s retirement, January 31, 2014.
