My Dad and Debra are heading back home to Sacramento this afternoon, after all too short a visit here. But they have things to attend to in California too, not the least of which is getting things prepared there for my arrival later this summer. As I've said many times, I dread the process of making this move, but I will be so happy to BE MOVED -- to have transported myself and all this well, "stuff," that I have accumulated over the years all to one place, and to settle in for however long God gives me to doing whatever she has planned for me.
I know, it sounds fatalistic. And I had hoped that with good health Portland might have been that place -- a place where I could finish my career with a long-tenured ministry of a decade or more in partnership with a congregation that really seemed to appreciate and thrive with what I had to offer them. And I got my turn, I think I've made my mark...I have no idea how long it will last, but I suspect that the vision of being Portland's Original Faith Community and "A Warm & Welcoming Place in the Heart of the City" will endure for quite some time, since they arose originally out of the congregation itself. I simply heard them, and repeated them out loud until they started to sink in everywhere.
I'm proud of what we were able to accomplish in terms of Worship and Newcomer Hospitality: how we have worked to define that place of "elegant simplicity" which honors the traditional ambiance of the building and still leaves us space to experiment and be human. Of course, this will be the first thing up for grabs both next year and for the the new minister, as well I suppose it should be. But I'm certain the hospitality piece will remain in place; again, it's something that predates my tenure here, and which is now part of the culture itself.
Oddly, the thing I'm MOST proud of is the re-creation of an effective Finance Council. Last spring First Parish was facing a potential crisis: the Treasurer was resigning his post and moving to Belize, and no one could be found to take his place. Carl himself has suggested a "two-headed" treasurer, essentially dividing the job up between a "collector" who handled the revenue side of the ledger, and a "controller" who wrote the checks and managed expenses. But even this was proving difficult to create. I knew what the answer was: bring together all of the key players around the same table for a First Parish "financial summit," and let them work it out among themselves, which is exactly what we did, Wednesday April 30th, 2008 in the main lounge at the Seaside Rehabilitation Hospital and Health Center. My vision, my initiative, my living room...but apart from that they did it all themselves, which is exactly as it should be. Success has a thousand parents, they say, but failure is an orphan. Plenty of credit to go around here, and I honestly believe that a highly-functioning Finance Council may well prove the difference between whether this congregation struggles or thrives over the next five years.
Gosh, don't quite know how I got on to THAT topic! Maybe it was just because yesterday after church there was a brief congregational meeting to review the pledge campaign and elect the Search Committee who will chose my eventual successor. Think the Nominating Committee did an EXCELLENT job regarding the latter, and the news from the former looks fairly promising to me as well, although it could certainly be "spun" pessimistically as well. I haven't been paying too much attention to these numbers, because I don't really feel that it's my place any more; did get an advance report of what was going to be presented at the meeting, but I didn't actually attend the meeting itself since I didn't really feel that it was my place to do so. But either choice would have been awkward. So I chose to go to lunch with my family, rather than attend a meeting about things that will take place after I have left here permanently.
I've enjoyed having my Dad and Debra here these past few weeks, as well as the visit from my brother Erik and his children this weekend. It was a handful, but also delightful, and I will miss seeing them when I move back to the West Coast as well. At lunch, Erik offered a very interesting Trivia Quiz which pretty much stumped us all; posted it over at another of my blogsites, just to give folks something different to click on. Meanwhile, this week it's back to radiation, back to book packing, back to saying farewell to the good people of this parish who have come to mean so much to me. And then it's off to the Faraway Island to preach on June 21st, and then to Seattle on or around the 30th of June. How quickly the time seems to be passing! I just want to slow down and savor every second of it!
Monday, April 27, 2009
Thursday, April 23, 2009
And a dreary, blustery Thursday too....
`
And I'm just kicking myself now for not thinking to take photos with my phone, of the retired Bank President and the retired University President helping me sort out my self-storage locker in advance of my move to Sacramento this summer. Also had a hand from the Stewardship Campaign Chair, as well as the "usual suspects" -- Jackie, my Dad and Debra -- and I'm truly astonished at how much we were able to accomplish in just a couple of hours, removing things from storage that were either trash or suitable for donation, and then consolidating and organizing the rest of the boxes, so that they could be returned to the unit in an orderly manner -- the things that will be going to California in the far back, with the heavy furniture and such (that will either be sold or donated) near the front, and plenty of room for additional items from my study and the apartment I'm living in now.
Lot's of clothes, bedding, and kitchen gear, not to mention all my basketball equipment. It used to be something of an uncomfortably funny joke, how many basketballs, shorts, jerseys, and sneakers I own. Does anybody really NEED that many gym bags? Of course not. It's just a collection, that's all: something that gives me pleasure in an eccentric, but relatively harmless way. What I would give simply to still be able to shoot a jump shot in rhythm now! And yes, I'm keeping them all -- at least for the time being. My father has no business complaining. He should know as well as anyone, that the fruit doesn't fall far from the tree.
Most of the rest is books, of course, which will probably be cheaper just to mail...except that means we will have to weigh every box individually and lift it AT LEAST three times, whereas if we simply ship them with freight company the only time we have to touch them at all is when we pack them here and when we unpack them there. I honestly have no idea exactly how many books I own (probably somewhere between four and five thousand volumes), but one of the things I'm hoping to do as we pack them is to catalog them at the same time. It's so easy to type the ISBN into one of these on-line cataloging services, and to watch as the computer does all the work. I'm signed up now with a service called "Library Thing," and we cataloged a dozen or so volumes this afternoon just to see how it works; now the plan is to work for a few hours each afternoon doing the same thing, but packing the books as well as we go. I think my dad finds it a little annoying, but I know my mom would be delighted. The fruit doesn't fall far from that side of the tree either....
In any event, working today alongside Wes and Bill and Alan and all the others just reminded me once again how proud I am to have enjoyed the privilege of being the minister of this church, and to have been called by them out of some thirty-odd other aspirants as the person best suited to lead this congregation into the next era of its nearly 350 year history. And we were off to such a great start together, then along comes cancer...stupid, icky, awful, sucky cancer...and yet, the vision is still there, the dream is still alive, and all the potential and the possibilities and the opportunities are just as viable now as they ever were.
Well, maybe not exactly; in addition to my illness, there is also this little thing called the "economic downturn" to deal with. But if anything, that just makes the mission and effective ministry of this community even more urgently needed, which is why feel so bad about not being able to hold up my own end. Instead, retired Bankers and University Presidents are doing my heavy lifting for me, while I am relegated to pointing with my cane and trying to stay out of the way. 21 months, with an additional 2 yet to go. Then it's off to sunny California, and whatever God has waiting for me there.
And I'm just kicking myself now for not thinking to take photos with my phone, of the retired Bank President and the retired University President helping me sort out my self-storage locker in advance of my move to Sacramento this summer. Also had a hand from the Stewardship Campaign Chair, as well as the "usual suspects" -- Jackie, my Dad and Debra -- and I'm truly astonished at how much we were able to accomplish in just a couple of hours, removing things from storage that were either trash or suitable for donation, and then consolidating and organizing the rest of the boxes, so that they could be returned to the unit in an orderly manner -- the things that will be going to California in the far back, with the heavy furniture and such (that will either be sold or donated) near the front, and plenty of room for additional items from my study and the apartment I'm living in now.
Lot's of clothes, bedding, and kitchen gear, not to mention all my basketball equipment. It used to be something of an uncomfortably funny joke, how many basketballs, shorts, jerseys, and sneakers I own. Does anybody really NEED that many gym bags? Of course not. It's just a collection, that's all: something that gives me pleasure in an eccentric, but relatively harmless way. What I would give simply to still be able to shoot a jump shot in rhythm now! And yes, I'm keeping them all -- at least for the time being. My father has no business complaining. He should know as well as anyone, that the fruit doesn't fall far from the tree.
Most of the rest is books, of course, which will probably be cheaper just to mail...except that means we will have to weigh every box individually and lift it AT LEAST three times, whereas if we simply ship them with freight company the only time we have to touch them at all is when we pack them here and when we unpack them there. I honestly have no idea exactly how many books I own (probably somewhere between four and five thousand volumes), but one of the things I'm hoping to do as we pack them is to catalog them at the same time. It's so easy to type the ISBN into one of these on-line cataloging services, and to watch as the computer does all the work. I'm signed up now with a service called "Library Thing," and we cataloged a dozen or so volumes this afternoon just to see how it works; now the plan is to work for a few hours each afternoon doing the same thing, but packing the books as well as we go. I think my dad finds it a little annoying, but I know my mom would be delighted. The fruit doesn't fall far from that side of the tree either....
In any event, working today alongside Wes and Bill and Alan and all the others just reminded me once again how proud I am to have enjoyed the privilege of being the minister of this church, and to have been called by them out of some thirty-odd other aspirants as the person best suited to lead this congregation into the next era of its nearly 350 year history. And we were off to such a great start together, then along comes cancer...stupid, icky, awful, sucky cancer...and yet, the vision is still there, the dream is still alive, and all the potential and the possibilities and the opportunities are just as viable now as they ever were.
Well, maybe not exactly; in addition to my illness, there is also this little thing called the "economic downturn" to deal with. But if anything, that just makes the mission and effective ministry of this community even more urgently needed, which is why feel so bad about not being able to hold up my own end. Instead, retired Bankers and University Presidents are doing my heavy lifting for me, while I am relegated to pointing with my cane and trying to stay out of the way. 21 months, with an additional 2 yet to go. Then it's off to sunny California, and whatever God has waiting for me there.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Rainy Day Wednesday
`
And suddenly just keeping up with all the little things there are to do in life is becoming almost too burdensome to bear. Daily 7:30 AM Radiation appointments probably aren't helping matters much, and by 3 pm both my Dad and I are pretty much shot for the day. We've done a little bit of packing up in my office at church, managed to get my bicycle shipped to my daughter today also, and I'm gradually getting around to making inquiries about changing over my health insurance, finding a new team of doctors on the West Coast, and contracting with a moving company to get everything shipped cross-country when I leave here.
Also working to finish up strong regarding my last few sacerdotal responsibilities: I'll be preaching on Mother's Day and Memorial Day, and will probably have a brief word of farewell to make at the Annual Meeting May 31st; I'm also scheduled to preach on Nantucket for the Summer Solstice, Midsummer's night eve, Sunday June 21st...that's just sixty days from now, which I'm so afraid will just fly by me in a blur.
Meanwhile, my Dad and his wife Debra are scheduled to fly back to Sacramento next Monday, which doesn't really give us that much time left together either. In between moving and medical errands we've also been making the rounds of the many friends my father has made at church in the year or so he's been traveling out here to be with me during my illness. All of it important, and becoming increasingly urgent as time slips away. Perhaps a metaphor of my larger situation in life as well. But at least on that front, everything seems to be going very well indeed. I'm actually beginning to worry that I may outlive my disability benefits, and have to go back to work!
OK, I worry about a LOT of stupid things. Maybe I'll just let that one alone for the time being....
And suddenly just keeping up with all the little things there are to do in life is becoming almost too burdensome to bear. Daily 7:30 AM Radiation appointments probably aren't helping matters much, and by 3 pm both my Dad and I are pretty much shot for the day. We've done a little bit of packing up in my office at church, managed to get my bicycle shipped to my daughter today also, and I'm gradually getting around to making inquiries about changing over my health insurance, finding a new team of doctors on the West Coast, and contracting with a moving company to get everything shipped cross-country when I leave here.
Also working to finish up strong regarding my last few sacerdotal responsibilities: I'll be preaching on Mother's Day and Memorial Day, and will probably have a brief word of farewell to make at the Annual Meeting May 31st; I'm also scheduled to preach on Nantucket for the Summer Solstice, Midsummer's night eve, Sunday June 21st...that's just sixty days from now, which I'm so afraid will just fly by me in a blur.
Meanwhile, my Dad and his wife Debra are scheduled to fly back to Sacramento next Monday, which doesn't really give us that much time left together either. In between moving and medical errands we've also been making the rounds of the many friends my father has made at church in the year or so he's been traveling out here to be with me during my illness. All of it important, and becoming increasingly urgent as time slips away. Perhaps a metaphor of my larger situation in life as well. But at least on that front, everything seems to be going very well indeed. I'm actually beginning to worry that I may outlive my disability benefits, and have to go back to work!
OK, I worry about a LOT of stupid things. Maybe I'll just let that one alone for the time being....
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Rumor and Reality
~
There's a saying I once heard somewhere to the effect that "a lie can travel half-way 'round the world before truth can get its pants on." Or maybe it was shoes, or boots, and all the way 'round the world (or six times 'round the world) -- I've seen it attributed to Winston Churchill, and to Mark Twain, and even to James Watt (remember him?), but the basic truthfulness of the proverb doesn't really depend much upon who first said it, or how quickly falsehoods travel, or even what Truth is or is not wearing. The rumors start, the gossip flows, and the next thing you know, everyone you meet knows something that just isn't true, and the best one can do is to try to correct it every time we hear it, and to hope that once the Truth is fully dressed it will eventually catch up with the lie and beat the crap out of it.
In the meantime though, I find it best to take everything I hear with at least a small grain of salt, and to try not to repeat gossip EVER, even when I KNOW it's true but also nobody's business. Which is the other issue, of course -- that the lies somehow always seem to be a little more racy, and titillating, and scandalous, than the plain, unadorned truth ever can be. Which is one of the BIG problems with news as entertainment, and the whole market-driven metaphor of the meaning of life, which has us pursuing happiness as quickly as we can commodify it, and package it for retail delivery.
Anyway, if you're waiting now for some big revelation about me, sorry to disappoint you. So far as I know, things are relatively quiet on this front in my life at the moment, although they certainly haven't always been that way. I can't even recall all of the strange things I've heard second-hand have been said about me (supposedly) behind my back over the years -- frankly, don't want to either. They were nothing but lies to begin with, the people who originated them were liars, and those who repeated them were not much better. "Lying, slime-eating, scum-sucking sons-of-bitches" one of my more venerable colleagues would have called them, although I think "Christ-hating" fit somewhere into that description as well.
Meanwhile, honesty, integrity, humility, truthfulness, trustworthiness, compassion, gratitude, generosity, fidelity, service, and so many other "old-fashioned" classical/Christian virtues (including honor, duty, and sacrifice): these are the values that allow Truth to put lies and liars in their place. Which is also why the worst lies of all are those which cynically insult those values in the process of spreading their own falsehood. But now I sense myself in danger of turning this into a full-blown rant. When actually I'm just a little annoyed by the bizarre treatment being given our new "Commander in Leash," and the legitimacy of his credentials as a "rescue" dog. I mean, really people... Really.
According to The Daily Show's Jon Stewart, "Bo" Obama is America's first openly gay First Dog.
But apparently he still likes a good romp through the Halls of Power, just like any other dog would.
There's a saying I once heard somewhere to the effect that "a lie can travel half-way 'round the world before truth can get its pants on." Or maybe it was shoes, or boots, and all the way 'round the world (or six times 'round the world) -- I've seen it attributed to Winston Churchill, and to Mark Twain, and even to James Watt (remember him?), but the basic truthfulness of the proverb doesn't really depend much upon who first said it, or how quickly falsehoods travel, or even what Truth is or is not wearing. The rumors start, the gossip flows, and the next thing you know, everyone you meet knows something that just isn't true, and the best one can do is to try to correct it every time we hear it, and to hope that once the Truth is fully dressed it will eventually catch up with the lie and beat the crap out of it.
In the meantime though, I find it best to take everything I hear with at least a small grain of salt, and to try not to repeat gossip EVER, even when I KNOW it's true but also nobody's business. Which is the other issue, of course -- that the lies somehow always seem to be a little more racy, and titillating, and scandalous, than the plain, unadorned truth ever can be. Which is one of the BIG problems with news as entertainment, and the whole market-driven metaphor of the meaning of life, which has us pursuing happiness as quickly as we can commodify it, and package it for retail delivery.
Anyway, if you're waiting now for some big revelation about me, sorry to disappoint you. So far as I know, things are relatively quiet on this front in my life at the moment, although they certainly haven't always been that way. I can't even recall all of the strange things I've heard second-hand have been said about me (supposedly) behind my back over the years -- frankly, don't want to either. They were nothing but lies to begin with, the people who originated them were liars, and those who repeated them were not much better. "Lying, slime-eating, scum-sucking sons-of-bitches" one of my more venerable colleagues would have called them, although I think "Christ-hating" fit somewhere into that description as well.
Meanwhile, honesty, integrity, humility, truthfulness, trustworthiness, compassion, gratitude, generosity, fidelity, service, and so many other "old-fashioned" classical/Christian virtues (including honor, duty, and sacrifice): these are the values that allow Truth to put lies and liars in their place. Which is also why the worst lies of all are those which cynically insult those values in the process of spreading their own falsehood. But now I sense myself in danger of turning this into a full-blown rant. When actually I'm just a little annoyed by the bizarre treatment being given our new "Commander in Leash," and the legitimacy of his credentials as a "rescue" dog. I mean, really people... Really.
According to The Daily Show's Jon Stewart, "Bo" Obama is America's first openly gay First Dog.
But apparently he still likes a good romp through the Halls of Power, just like any other dog would.
Monday, April 13, 2009
Dreamcatcher
-
And another small joy I forgot to mention about Easter -- my homeless Navajo friend Walter was in church yesterday, along with another friend of his from the shelter...it had been several weeks since I'd seen him, and I was actually starting to get a little worried about him I'm not really sure if I can accurately describe how or why Walter and I became friends. He pretty much started out like anyone else who might wander in off the street to get warm and have a little free coffee and food on a Sunday morning, or to touch me for twenty bucks for food or a bus ticket or whatever. But for some reason we connected; he started coming to church more and more often, sitting off in the back corner but eventually making a few other friends at church as well.
When I got sick myself I'm told he disappeared for awhile, but he was back again this last autumn, selling these Navajo "Dreamcatchers" to tourists on the street in order to make a little money, and occasionally even putting a little of it in the plate. Then HE got sick, and spent six weeks up at Maine Med -- got himself detoxed, and linked up with a caseworker, and the next thing you know he's been admitted to college to study art and (of course) nervous as hell about it, although he understands what a great opportunity it is for him. Anyway, next task is to take him out shopping for school clothes, which I know will be a big adventure too, since right now pretty much all he wears is all-weather camo, which is what he got used to in the military.
I suspect Walter appreciates me because I befriended him at church (just as I would attempt to any other repeat visitor), and went to visit him at the hospital when he was there, even though (as he knows) I was/am seriously ill myself. I like Walter for a lot of reasons, mostly because of his personality and his attitude: his optimism, his resilience, his ingenuity, patience and tenacity. Qualities maybe he doesn't even see in himself, but which I see and believe in. He reminds me a lot of Steve the Sailor in that way, whose spirit still inspires me now months after his death. I enjoy it when Walter brings me a little gift, or prays for me in the Navajo language, which I find strangely inspiring and invigorating. And I really want this college opportunity to work out for him. Which is my prayer. In plain English.
In any event, a few weeks ago Walter dropped off a couple of dreamcatchers for me at the office. Last night I finally opened one up, and hung it over the head of my bed. And guess what? No bad dreams! So maybe there's something to all this after all....
And another small joy I forgot to mention about Easter -- my homeless Navajo friend Walter was in church yesterday, along with another friend of his from the shelter...it had been several weeks since I'd seen him, and I was actually starting to get a little worried about him I'm not really sure if I can accurately describe how or why Walter and I became friends. He pretty much started out like anyone else who might wander in off the street to get warm and have a little free coffee and food on a Sunday morning, or to touch me for twenty bucks for food or a bus ticket or whatever. But for some reason we connected; he started coming to church more and more often, sitting off in the back corner but eventually making a few other friends at church as well.
When I got sick myself I'm told he disappeared for awhile, but he was back again this last autumn, selling these Navajo "Dreamcatchers" to tourists on the street in order to make a little money, and occasionally even putting a little of it in the plate. Then HE got sick, and spent six weeks up at Maine Med -- got himself detoxed, and linked up with a caseworker, and the next thing you know he's been admitted to college to study art and (of course) nervous as hell about it, although he understands what a great opportunity it is for him. Anyway, next task is to take him out shopping for school clothes, which I know will be a big adventure too, since right now pretty much all he wears is all-weather camo, which is what he got used to in the military.
I suspect Walter appreciates me because I befriended him at church (just as I would attempt to any other repeat visitor), and went to visit him at the hospital when he was there, even though (as he knows) I was/am seriously ill myself. I like Walter for a lot of reasons, mostly because of his personality and his attitude: his optimism, his resilience, his ingenuity, patience and tenacity. Qualities maybe he doesn't even see in himself, but which I see and believe in. He reminds me a lot of Steve the Sailor in that way, whose spirit still inspires me now months after his death. I enjoy it when Walter brings me a little gift, or prays for me in the Navajo language, which I find strangely inspiring and invigorating. And I really want this college opportunity to work out for him. Which is my prayer. In plain English.
In any event, a few weeks ago Walter dropped off a couple of dreamcatchers for me at the office. Last night I finally opened one up, and hung it over the head of my bed. And guess what? No bad dreams! So maybe there's something to all this after all....
Easter Sunday
"Lo, the day of days is here...Alleluia...." And I actually had very minimal responsibilities in yesterday's service: welcomed everyone to church (as I do every Sunday), supervised the announcements, lit the chalice, introduced the opening hymn, and then led our unison affirmation before inviting the children up to hear a story and wheeling myself down the ramp to the front row. And yet even that little part I couldn't quite handle correctly. First mistake was that I welcomed everyone to our worship service at the First Parish in Portland Oregon...a mistake I've been able to avoid making for almost two years now, but which eventually caught up with me. Big laugh at my expense as i explained that before moving here I'd lived 14 years in the other Portland, and was moving back again that way soon. There was also a special Easter introit that I nearly skipped over completely; thank God (no, G-D! that Charlie (our minister of music) was there to catch my mistake and pick-up quickly as soon as I had finished the Chalice Lighting, but before I had an opportunity to introduce the first hymn.
The most interesting thing though was that i had prepared a little insert for the bulletin on behalf of the Committee on Ministry, talking about these next two months and the plans we are making to celebrate my intense yet all-too-brief two-year ministry here, and to say our goodbyes in ways that will be meaningful to everyone. And I had what I can only describe as a Mark 13:11 moment -- just opened my mouth and the spirit spoke through me, and afterwards...well, it's been a long time since anything like that has happened to me. It's no wonder I nearly skipped the introit.
In any event, the rest of the service was lovely and inspiring, just as it should have been. Children's Story, Candlesharing, a prayer and the offertory, and a very simple and straightforward message from Will (appropriate to the fact that we still had the children with us) about the "Three Questions" - the answers to which are "Whoever is here, Whatever we can, and Now."
Brother Erik left for Connecticut about 3 pm, while my Father and his wife arrived from California about 5. A smooth changing of the guard, as it were. They'll be here for about three weeks, most of which time I'm going to be spending getting radiation treatment. Started out with a so-so Easter dinner at the Eastland -- slow, expensive, and otherwise unremarkable -- and yet once again, I can't tell you how much I have enjoyed that hotel, and how much I'm going to miss it when I'm gone. And now, it's Monday AM and time for me to be facing yet another week as a cancer survivor. This week, I think, should be a good one.
The most interesting thing though was that i had prepared a little insert for the bulletin on behalf of the Committee on Ministry, talking about these next two months and the plans we are making to celebrate my intense yet all-too-brief two-year ministry here, and to say our goodbyes in ways that will be meaningful to everyone. And I had what I can only describe as a Mark 13:11 moment -- just opened my mouth and the spirit spoke through me, and afterwards...well, it's been a long time since anything like that has happened to me. It's no wonder I nearly skipped the introit.
In any event, the rest of the service was lovely and inspiring, just as it should have been. Children's Story, Candlesharing, a prayer and the offertory, and a very simple and straightforward message from Will (appropriate to the fact that we still had the children with us) about the "Three Questions" - the answers to which are "Whoever is here, Whatever we can, and Now."
Brother Erik left for Connecticut about 3 pm, while my Father and his wife arrived from California about 5. A smooth changing of the guard, as it were. They'll be here for about three weeks, most of which time I'm going to be spending getting radiation treatment. Started out with a so-so Easter dinner at the Eastland -- slow, expensive, and otherwise unremarkable -- and yet once again, I can't tell you how much I have enjoyed that hotel, and how much I'm going to miss it when I'm gone. And now, it's Monday AM and time for me to be facing yet another week as a cancer survivor. This week, I think, should be a good one.
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Good Friday
The First Parish SederAnd I'm running a little behind here with my posts, having hoped to keep up pretty much in "real" time. But the nice thing about the internet is that it lets you change the time if you like.
Good Friday was also the date of our annual First Parish seder -- a tradition that's been going on here for over a decade now, and has just been passed down to a new leader, since the woman who originated the service here just moved to Portland Oregon. And this was also, I'm told, the best attended seder we have ever held, with over 50 participants. A fun, joyous, convivial time...but also a time for us all to be reminded of the reality of slavery and oppression still in this world, and the important Passover lessons of hospitality, gratitude, compassion....
I was there with my brother and nephew, who had just celebrated their own Seder a few days earlier. Erik converted to Judaism when he married his current wife in 1999, but neither of them are especially observant, and Erik especially I think might best be described as "Jewnitarian" at best. Have some photos I want to post too, but I haven't quite figured out how to get them from my cell phone to the computer to here.
For me though, this Good Friday/Passover Seder truly was a "Last Supper" with these good folk: a reminder again of how much I love them and how much I am going to miss them, and yet also a reminder that my time here among them is nearly finished, and I have other things awaiting me down the road.
One of oUUr Stalwart Cooks, near the end of a long evening
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Maundy Thursday
Went in to see the Radiation Oncologist again yesterday for more tattoos -- (c.f. Saturday March 29, 2008 in the left sidebar), since Monday I start another 15 days of radiation treatment, this time on my right lung to see whether they can re-open the airway into that upper lobe and get it re-inflated. April seems to be becoming radiation month for me. Always a helluva way to begin the Spring.
Yesterday was also my exit interview with the District Executive, which was another big step forward in helping me to put everything in context here. If I could still count on living for another 20-25 years, I would have happily invested half of my remaining lifetime here at First Parish. They truly are a remarkable group of people, as well as everything anyone could ever ask for in a faith community, and I felt SO PROUD to have been called to serve as their minister. But knowing that even now, as a year-long cancer survivor, I only have a 25% chance of being alive five years from now, helps me see how maybe two years really was all the time I could afford to spend here. But hey? -- look how much Jesus got done in only three! And yes, there are a lot more things I would have liked to have accomplished here before I go...but I also have a lot of OTHER things I would like to accomplish before I REALLY go, and I think this is what a lot of people have been trying to tell me all along, and that it was really only my own misplaced sense of duty and obligation that was keeping me from seeing that clearly.
As for accomplishments here (one of the interview questions), I don't really know that I've accomplished anything that will last much beyond my departure, but I think the thing I'm most pleased about is what we've done with Sunday morning -- the way we've attempted to embody this notion of Radical Hospitality in everything we do, from the moment we meet people at the front steps to the time they exit the coffee hour. We truly have taken seriously this mission of becoming "A Warm & Welcoming Place in the Heart of the City," as well as "Portland's Original Faith Community (est. 1674)." I love the way that the Worship Service itself has come together around that vision as well -- especially last year, culminating with Easter Sunday (which I now realize could have easily been my "Swan Song" and a worthy one at that). A service which is easy to follow and welcoming to newcomers, but which still honors and respects the traditional worship space of our historic meeting house, and expresses those core values of Gratitude, Generosity, Humility, Service and Sacrifice (in the sense of "making sacred") Sunday after Sunday. The people here have heard this good news and embraced it, even embodied it -- which is as much as any minister might ask for.
I'm also proud of the way the Finance Council has come together, although I can't really claim any credit for that, other than getting all of the key players together in the same room (the central lounge at the Seaside Rehabilitation Center) on a pleasant summer evening. What a fantastic group of talented, intelligent, devoted, committed and hard-working souls! And what a blessing to know that I DON'T have to be involved in the day-to-day management of any of this, because it is all in much better hands than mine.
Talked a bit too about both the blessings and the trials of our "ministerial team" -- and how it somehow mysteriously morphed from a ministerial "support" team into a de facto ministerial replacement team. And how an abundance of good will helped to counterbalance a pretty significant diversity of vision and opinion, and how we made it all appear to work seamlessly despite of that, because of our respect for one another and our shared commitment to the good of the church.
And finally a lot of detailed information about various boards and committees, our "growing edges," and the like. And the truth is that I AM going to miss this place and these people very much, along with all the "lost possibilities" that leaving here represents. So many things I've had to sacrifice to this cancer now, and will never have a chance to do again. My wonderful West End walk-up apartment. Driving my car (and the independence that driving represents). My adorable little "Boston Terrorist" Parker. Binga's Wingas. Regular access to my study at the Eastland. My dream of spending a summer sailing "down east." The Sea Dogs. Working at the hospitals, the Historical Society, and the local seminary...working with local theological students, and perhaps even a resident intern. Becoming more actively involved in the local political scene, and watching this church grow, a few dozen members at a time, from the one hundred or so households it is today to whatever its full potential turns out to be.
That was the vision which brought me here, and was sustaining me here too -- along with the fantastic press we were getting the Portland Press Herald, about how this congregation had rallied around me to support me in my recovery from this illness and return to work. So many "George Bailey moments" in the past twelve months. And so much for the people who had already written me off for dead! I just wish that I knew I could count on having another decade here, or even another twelve good months. But I can't. I can't count on any of that. All I can do is act on faith, and trust that whatever God still has in mind for me to do, She will also provide me with the resources I need to do it.
Amen.
And Blessed Be...
Yesterday was also my exit interview with the District Executive, which was another big step forward in helping me to put everything in context here. If I could still count on living for another 20-25 years, I would have happily invested half of my remaining lifetime here at First Parish. They truly are a remarkable group of people, as well as everything anyone could ever ask for in a faith community, and I felt SO PROUD to have been called to serve as their minister. But knowing that even now, as a year-long cancer survivor, I only have a 25% chance of being alive five years from now, helps me see how maybe two years really was all the time I could afford to spend here. But hey? -- look how much Jesus got done in only three! And yes, there are a lot more things I would have liked to have accomplished here before I go...but I also have a lot of OTHER things I would like to accomplish before I REALLY go, and I think this is what a lot of people have been trying to tell me all along, and that it was really only my own misplaced sense of duty and obligation that was keeping me from seeing that clearly.
As for accomplishments here (one of the interview questions), I don't really know that I've accomplished anything that will last much beyond my departure, but I think the thing I'm most pleased about is what we've done with Sunday morning -- the way we've attempted to embody this notion of Radical Hospitality in everything we do, from the moment we meet people at the front steps to the time they exit the coffee hour. We truly have taken seriously this mission of becoming "A Warm & Welcoming Place in the Heart of the City," as well as "Portland's Original Faith Community (est. 1674)." I love the way that the Worship Service itself has come together around that vision as well -- especially last year, culminating with Easter Sunday (which I now realize could have easily been my "Swan Song" and a worthy one at that). A service which is easy to follow and welcoming to newcomers, but which still honors and respects the traditional worship space of our historic meeting house, and expresses those core values of Gratitude, Generosity, Humility, Service and Sacrifice (in the sense of "making sacred") Sunday after Sunday. The people here have heard this good news and embraced it, even embodied it -- which is as much as any minister might ask for.
I'm also proud of the way the Finance Council has come together, although I can't really claim any credit for that, other than getting all of the key players together in the same room (the central lounge at the Seaside Rehabilitation Center) on a pleasant summer evening. What a fantastic group of talented, intelligent, devoted, committed and hard-working souls! And what a blessing to know that I DON'T have to be involved in the day-to-day management of any of this, because it is all in much better hands than mine.
Talked a bit too about both the blessings and the trials of our "ministerial team" -- and how it somehow mysteriously morphed from a ministerial "support" team into a de facto ministerial replacement team. And how an abundance of good will helped to counterbalance a pretty significant diversity of vision and opinion, and how we made it all appear to work seamlessly despite of that, because of our respect for one another and our shared commitment to the good of the church.
And finally a lot of detailed information about various boards and committees, our "growing edges," and the like. And the truth is that I AM going to miss this place and these people very much, along with all the "lost possibilities" that leaving here represents. So many things I've had to sacrifice to this cancer now, and will never have a chance to do again. My wonderful West End walk-up apartment. Driving my car (and the independence that driving represents). My adorable little "Boston Terrorist" Parker. Binga's Wingas. Regular access to my study at the Eastland. My dream of spending a summer sailing "down east." The Sea Dogs. Working at the hospitals, the Historical Society, and the local seminary...working with local theological students, and perhaps even a resident intern. Becoming more actively involved in the local political scene, and watching this church grow, a few dozen members at a time, from the one hundred or so households it is today to whatever its full potential turns out to be.
That was the vision which brought me here, and was sustaining me here too -- along with the fantastic press we were getting the Portland Press Herald, about how this congregation had rallied around me to support me in my recovery from this illness and return to work. So many "George Bailey moments" in the past twelve months. And so much for the people who had already written me off for dead! I just wish that I knew I could count on having another decade here, or even another twelve good months. But I can't. I can't count on any of that. All I can do is act on faith, and trust that whatever God still has in mind for me to do, She will also provide me with the resources I need to do it.
Amen.
And Blessed Be...
Monday, April 6, 2009
Palm Sunday/Holy Week
Preached yesterday on "...the things that are God's" to a pretty full house; 22 new members received into fellowship as well, but the bad news is that I didn't actually get up into the pulpit to start preaching until about five minutes of the hour. That just seems to be the way it goes these days: about 12 minutes worth of announcements before the service even started (hey, busy church = lots of announcements), plus a special element of the service to welcome the new members...still, I thought we were pretty much caught up by the time the kids left for their classes. But then the candlesharing just went on and on and on -- lots of candles, and lots of long-winded candles too, and for some reason my colleague (who was still down on the lower chancel and supposedly monitoring these things) just let it go, without any of those little indicators to the speakers (like a discrete touch of the shoulder, etc) to clue them in that they were going too long. And the subsequent prayer might have been a little more succinct as well, especially the "moment of silence." A few months ago I'd issued an Edict that although the strategic use of silence was an important (even essential) component of our worship service, that we should try to avoid saying the word "silence" out loud, since it kind of defeats the purpose. But what can I say? With only a few more months here (including just two remaining sermons, on Mother's Day and Memorial Day weekend) I've pretty much given up the authority to make those kind of Edicts stick. And so the service ended up going an extra 20-25 minutes longer than it should have. Bad news for our Sunday School teachers, and for anyone (especially newcomers) who were counting on a "hard stop" right at the hour. But for the most part I think the congregation was pretty well engaged, and happy to sacrifice that extra half-hour for the full experience of the service. I know it's naive and idealistic, but I still like to believe that somehow when those inner doors to the sanctuary swing closed that we have entered "sacred space," where time and the demands of the rest of the world stand still while we take care of our sacred business within those four walls. Naive. Idealistic. But, thank God, more often than not still true.
Meanwhile, back in the real world it's starting to look like I'm going to be receiving a 15 day course of radiation therapy to try to alleviate some of this problem in the upper lobe of my right lung. This is where my primary tumor originally got started, and with the exception of the one distant bone metastasis to my L-3 vertebra (which has cause ALL of these mobility problems) the entire cancer is still localized there, and in a few spots lower down but also in my right lung. The nice thing about the radiation is that it's not very likely to do me any harm, and there's about a 50/50 chance that it will give me some relief. It's going to destroy some lung tissue, but it will also destroy a certain portion of the tumor, and with any luck will open up those airways again and give that lobe a chance to re-inflate. If not, I guess I'm going to still be short of breath...but this probably isn't going to affect my life span one way or another anyway. It's just an opportunity to breath a little easier.
Even if the problem isn't being caused by cancer at all, but is simply the result of a mucus plug. Now doesn't THAT sound appetizing? If you could see the bloody things I've been blowing out of my nose these past several weeks, you would know EXACTLY what I'm talking about. And yes. It's disgusting.... (Hummm... maybe we should all just now observe a "moment of silence....")
Meanwhile, back in the real world it's starting to look like I'm going to be receiving a 15 day course of radiation therapy to try to alleviate some of this problem in the upper lobe of my right lung. This is where my primary tumor originally got started, and with the exception of the one distant bone metastasis to my L-3 vertebra (which has cause ALL of these mobility problems) the entire cancer is still localized there, and in a few spots lower down but also in my right lung. The nice thing about the radiation is that it's not very likely to do me any harm, and there's about a 50/50 chance that it will give me some relief. It's going to destroy some lung tissue, but it will also destroy a certain portion of the tumor, and with any luck will open up those airways again and give that lobe a chance to re-inflate. If not, I guess I'm going to still be short of breath...but this probably isn't going to affect my life span one way or another anyway. It's just an opportunity to breath a little easier.
Even if the problem isn't being caused by cancer at all, but is simply the result of a mucus plug. Now doesn't THAT sound appetizing? If you could see the bloody things I've been blowing out of my nose these past several weeks, you would know EXACTLY what I'm talking about. And yes. It's disgusting.... (Hummm... maybe we should all just now observe a "moment of silence....")
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)