For the most part, I am a pretty good judge of how people will respond to my sermons. At times however, I get surprised.
Most of those surprises are small, like when someone commented on my recent sermon on Esther by saying that my telling of the story reminded him of a Shakespeare play. Even though I knew it was the story and not me that made him think it, I smiled all day. [If one can frown in the grave, I suspect that Will, however, took the opportunity to do so.]
In my 17.33 years in the ministry, surprises have blown me away only three times.
The first was in Jordanville when downcast because of my dissatisfaction with a sermon I gave on the Holy Spirit, an 87 year old parishioner of deep faith and sincerity thanked me for the sermon and told me that until he heard it he never really understood the Holy Spirit. I was floored.
The second was when a first time visitor at Grace in Massena told me some weeks later that during my sermon she felt that I knew everything there was to know about her and had been speaking directly to her. I shook my head in amazement.
The third time was on October 14, when in attempting to bring to life the statement in Hebrews that God's word is alive and active, I explained how I had asked for God's help as I struggled to discern whether I should request to be reappointed to this congregation for the 2013 - 2014 appointment year.
In that sermon I went on to say that I had received God's answer through my attendance at the Bishop's Retreat in Ellenville. And the answer was that I should indeed ask to be reappointed here.
At least nine people heard me use the word "reappointed" and took it to mean that I had decided to seek an appointment elsewhere - exactly the opposite of what I had decided. Again, I was floored and again I shook my head in amazement. But this time, unlike those times at Jordanville and Grace, I wasn't smiling as I did so.
I apologize to those of you who were upset or disappointed by your mistaken interpretation of that message. I was, however, touched by your reaction. I thank you for caring. Too, I thank those who understood it correctly and offered me affirmation.
[If anyone misinterpreted the message and was pleased, I thank you for your grace in not expressing it.]
To all, I offer my assurance that there is no way that I would have used a sermon to share a decision to request a move to another church.
Some of you may wonder why I even struggled with the decision, Even I wonder at times.
I love living in the magnificent parsonage and in this community which offers so much to me and my family. I cannot imagine living anyplace that I would enjoy more.
And I deeply love and highly respect this congregation. I am impressed by its gifts, graces, and generosity. I pinch myself at times to make sure that I am not dreaming and really do have the honor of serving as your pastor.
The reason that I struggled is that I am convinced (as I said in last month's newsletter and in that fateful October 14 sermon) that the wounds that existed in July 2007 have substantially healed and that it is time for us to move forward to meet the challenges set forth by both Christ and the United Methodist Church.
In Matthew 28 and in Acts 1, Christ charged his followers to be witnesses and to make disciples "to the ends of the earth." The United Methodist Church vision statement charges us to make disciples of Christ to transform God's world.
Moving forward to meet those challenges means that we have to make sure that the "Church of Today and Tomorrow" is as relevant to those of the first half of this century as the church was to those of us who committed ourselves to follow and serve Christ in the first two thirds of the last century.
Moving forward to meet those challenges means that people in their teens, their 20s and their 30s should be able to say with joy, "This is my church" while those of us who are double their ages can say the same thing.
Our moving forward means using our gifts and sharing our blessings as we continuously adapt, to and for, the times in which we live now and in which some of us will live the future. This means looking at: our worship and our building, our mission and our ministry, as well as our evangelism, education, and disciple making approaches. After all, God's word is eternal, but the ways we share it and live it must speak to and in the world of the day - and to and among the wide variety of people of that day.
I will turn 67 years old in February (I know I seem much younger) and will reach mandatory retirement age five years after that. My struggle came from a sincere attempt to discern whether I thought it was in the interest of the congregation for me to return to lead this group of believers forward.
But at the Bishop's retreat, I found myself excited and invigorated by Mike Slaughter's vision of what the church can and must do. And, while excited and invigorated I heard him point out that he remains in the church to which he was appointed 34 years ago. Despite opportunities to move, he has remained there because he couldn't see the benefit in "starting all over." He thought his congregation and he could serve Christ better by building on what they had already done and what that had prepared them to do in the future.
When I heard that, the light bulb over my head came on. Of course that made sense. As we vision and plan over the next several months, I trust you will be excited about our opportunities and attempts to meet the challenges set before us by Christ and by our denomination.
Jim