Here we are

Folks,

I’ve been thinking about a lot lately, particularly in relation to being here full-time, to Michael’s struggle with cancer and his too-early death. And there are a few more things, but these are the biggest I guess.

And here we are coming to Lent- Ash Wednesday will be upon us VERY soon! And we enter 40 days of Lent… 40 days that ostensibly call us to deeper contemplation, to enter into some more intimate space, into a time of assessing our place before the divine, a time of assessing our own human relationships (because perhaps there is a connection between our human connections and the divine… perhaps!?!)

During the debate among the leaders here at ASLC about whether ASLC could afford having a full-time pastor, about whether it could afford to pay not only increased salary, but all the other expenses that go along with a full-time package. The answer was- we can do it… probably… and for probably no more than 2 years max – assuming nothing changes!

We all, in theory at least, seem to like the idea of a full-time pastor. But the concern, and this is a valid concern, really seems to boil down to money – Will ASLC have enough money to maintain a full-time pastor? Assuming nothing changes, the even horizon is very short.

How can we assume nothing will change? Things have changed since we’ve been together. Over four years ago, I came to a congregation that I think any pastor would have coveted! As many of you know, I was on the verge of leaving ministry – at least in this sense. But yet here I am, still here (not only in ministry, but here at ASLC), after 4 and a half years later. And in those almost five years, a lot has happened; bible studies, prayer groups, youth ministry in different ways – connection to other churches, etc., fellowship activities, a depth of spirit in worship and life, a sense of freedom and grace among this community. I remember Pastor Michel told as I was preparing to come here, that this was the most spiritual congregation he had ever seen.

And I certainly don’t mean to imply I’m the catalyst for this change. Truth is, things have been changing since the beginning of ASLC! Those of you who have been here longer than, say, 10 years… think back… you’ve seen a number of changes! Now, some things stayed the same right!?!? Like people… yeah, I bet every one you knew back then is still the same as they were back then! Folks, nothing is the same as it was back then! Not the people, not the building, not the other “static” element of life. So, let’s see, even the things we thought were the same, have changed as well. Change is the way of life! And yet the better question is – what will these changes bring?

I don’t know exactly. But I do know this – I trust that we’re in this together for a reason! A good reason! I trust that we can stand strong against the winds of fear and doubt… together… and work and build, and change, and deepen, and flourish as time goes on.

And today I helped bury Michael Deets – a child of this congregation in a very real sense. I mourn his death, and will do so for a very long time. He was many things; he was centered, he enjoyed life, he was a rather private person, he was compassionate, in a sense traditional, lived with dignity, politically conservative, and more… but also a child of this congregation, and child of God.

For some of you, the list of those whom you’ve loved, but who are no longer here, seems to grow longer every year. Yet at some point we get to the place where we say… we still live. Whether we keep walking for them or for us… we keep walking.

The memorial service for Michael will be this Saturday, and it will be more a celebration of his life. I can think of no greater way of moving forward – us, here at ASLC, than to move forward into an unknown future, looking back on those times and people we’ve loved as they walked here with us… but moving forward in celebration – for what God has done and what God will do in our lives, and in our congregation- among us and in us and with us.

We are the inheritors of those who’ve gone before us. Even though there may be times we may not want to move forward, we may not want to take another step… we can walk forward because they have been with us. At some point we will be able to get to a place of being able to lift up our voices, lift up our faces to the heavens and, in spite of our losses, be able to say, “Lord, I may not understand, I may not get it… but I’m still here, among others… and I still believe!”

Without denying the pain, (and there will be pain) we’ll hold hands together, and sing together, and look at each other in the eyes and hug, and welcome new faces, and meet new people, and bring new children into the world, and say good-bye, and we’ll tell our stories in faith, and we’ll wonder where we’re going to need to build, and help each other heal from pain, and we’ll walk, and worship! And we’ll celebrate!

Sounds kind of Polly-anna-ish… so sue me! I believe this!