Reflecting on Thirty-four Years

Yesterday, June 1, was the 34th anniversary of my ordination to Christian ministry.  I remember the day well.  The service happened in central Maine.  My parishioners had decked out the sanctuary in lilacs.  It was gorgeous.  I had a very eclectic group of folks who participated in the day.  The preacher for the afternoon was the president of my seminary, Wayne Glick.  My father gave one of the charges.  My Masters thesis was a history of the Shaker community at Sabbathday Lake, and three of my Shaker friends were there for the service--Brother Ted Johnson read a scripture passage.  There were members of the two churches I was serving at the time.  Ted, my dad, and even my seminary are all gone now.  But my dear old friend Charlie Nichols (who I met in third grade) played the organ--and he's still around to keep me honest! 

As a budding church historian, I had built the liturgy around the theme of saints.  We even sang two of my favorite hymns, "I Sing a Song of the Saints of God," and "For All the Saints."

When I got ordained I didn't envision myself having a career in parish ministry.  I was headed for Boston University, to work on a PhD in American Church History.  When I was debating in which discipline I should do my doctoral work (I was considering New Testament Studies and Church History) Wayne Glick had asked me how much I enjoyed language study.  "Not much," I told him--having struggled already with French, Latin, Greek and Hebrew.  "Well," he said, "The you should do American Church History--you'll only need to do German on top of what you've already done!"  So the decision was made!  And I was planning on a teaching career.

But it didn't work out that way.  I had a part-time position as a Minister of Christian Education while I was doing my course work at BU--and then when my residency requirements were completed, I decided I needed to work in a parish full-time while I wrote my dissertation.  And so I sought and received my first call to a full-time pastorate.

The rest--as they say--is history.  I did finish the dissertation (and managed to pass my German exam on the third try!)  But I found parish work to my liking.  And now, thirty-four years later, here I am.  Serving my fourth full-time pastorate.

God willing, I am a ways off from the day when, as the hymn says, when I am counted among those "from whom their labors rest"--but I continue to live and work among the living saints.  And for that I am most grateful.