I think twice this year at funerals I have told the story. It was an NFL Banquet years ago. The speaker said, "If you visit many cemeteries you will see a birth date and a death date and in between a dash. And what matters for all of us is what are we going to do with our dash." Those in-between times. From the day I got here in that little mill house October 15, 1935 my dash began.
My Dash
What happened? A whole lot happened not just to me but to all of us. Growing up across from the mill was Mama and Daddy and my brother and me. It has taken me years and years to reckon with those early shaping beginnings. I never ever dreamed how my journey would take me. I was loved unreservedly by my Mama. It was not quite that way with my Father. Almosy deaf he could not understand me or me him. But I have made peace with that. But he and my Mother were there and worked and worked for a pittance in that cotton mill until they both retired. And that little boy let the growing up years passed--first grade...all grades. High School and there are still momernts that I can still remember. I never did knock the grades out back there but I had a lot of fun. Friends...Church...teachers and friends. And tiny trips and laughter and the dark days. Churchill called his depressions the black dog. That old dog never really let me go. But his power has lessened. Thank God.
College and a Bigger World
College was wonderland in many ways. Our college was not considered a very good school but I got a great education there. We had teachers who stretched me and were as good as you could find. I looked around and wondered why all our classmates were white. But the friends from those years helped, as much as my teachers. I took mission trips as far away as Utah and Idaho. Toward the end of those college days a group of us spent the summer in New Jersey at a boy's camp. I had never been anywhere and suddenly I discovered New York and plays like My Fair Lady and Inherit the Wind and just the wonder of a great city.
I had felt the stirrings of my calling. No Damascus Road but just a strong pull toward something bigger than all I knew. So there was Seminary where I worked with poor kids at the Y for four years. They taught me a lot. I still wonder where they might be. But early in Louisville I met this girl. Music major at U of L. Beautiful and smart and independent and in love with me. Me? Talk about the magic of the dash. We were married toward the tail end of my Seminary days and her college graduation.
Church and Church and Church
Where would I go? I had no ministerial experience and few connections and I was called to a rural church in Western Kentucky. This city boy and this city girl scared and wondering why God called people to out of the way places like Highway Alternate 54. We were there for over 3 years and our first child was born there. A beautiful red-headed girl. I would travel down that country road every week-day morning and sit in my make-shift office and sometimes used the outdoor toilet. I read and prayed and wrote sermon after sermon. And whispered to God, "God don't let me be boring." I don't think I taught them much but they were some of the finest teachers I ever had. Not even knowing it then but later those rememberings leave me breathless.
We moved from there to Southside Virginia to a semi-rural church. It was there our second red-head was born. A boy. The froiends we made there and they way they reached out to those two green parents was a blessing. After four years we picked up our belongings, piled them in our little green Volkswagen with two kids and Pooch the dog and made our way to Georgetown, Kentucky where I was Pastor for six years in a small college church. It was small and experimental and sheer fun.
I discovered the Minister's Summer Institute at Princeton Seminary and spent 30 years everey summer learning and just having fun with friends. Talk about stretching. Those were rich years and they became my first Camelot.
After six years Pooch and a cat named Jennifer and us moved to Clemson, South Carolina. My son looked out and said, "They have nailed-down seats!" For 13 years we celebrated the Tigers as they played and tried to minister to the College and the town. This became our second Camelot. And while there our daughter was married there.
Then our next stop was Memphis where I learned so much more than I gave. Looking back I should have stayed there. We mooved to Birmingham to a little church called The Baptist Church of the Covenant. They had come out of the Birmingham racial struggle in the sixties. We had all kinds of folks that came every Sunday. And in the middle of the AIDS crisis gay folk began to join. More than a few. Some members wanted to turn them away. Not many. But we kept saying we open the doors and welcome all who come. These gay men and women shared their stories and helped us see a whole new definition of Church. In the middle of the mean streets in Birmingham we built a church on the postage stamp of a lot and people began to come. As you walked into that new sanctuary you could feel the energy. One Episcopal minister visited one Sunday and whispered to a friend, "There is no way this church can make it." And the church is still known as a place of love and safety and aceptance. kinds of I retired from there in 2000 and they gave us a glorious send off. People came from all six churches I had served.
Retirement--Hah
Where to next? Eight interims all over the South--most a year at a time. They were good years until my wife said: "OK. It is time to close up shop and stay home. I am tired of apartmernts and condos and aging parsonages. And I want to go home to my house." For once I said,"Yes Ma'm."
Not too many years later we moved back to Clemson where we still had so many friends. I laughed and said we are five minutes from everything. So about 11 years later we are still here.
Still the Dash
Looking back I still ask where did it all go. That dash is filled with so much. Not all good. Some heart-brteaks but the silver tghread of grace running gthrough even thost times I wondered where was good. Highlights: preaching at Princeton Seminary...Preaching to the national audience of Day One. All those places I preached. The books I wrote that so few people read. Articles I wrote for newspapers. Blogs. Family and friends...oh, the friends. I wish I could write all their names. Trips and trips. England as Exchange Preacher...Oxford...Oxford and Italy. The Passion play in Oberammergau and Spain and Portugal and Norway and Sweden. And more. I have already bored you enough--so I will shut up.
Buechner wrote that he opened his own journey hoping someone just might read his words and open up their own stories and their own dashes. Which is my wish too. And if that might happen as you read these words hopefully this will be more than a peculiar brag sheet.
Mary Oliver prayed: I hope when it is over I will have done more than just visited the world. And I have piled up many visits half-hearing and preoccupied and missing so much. But looking back so many places I moved in and tried to do what could. I don't know how many Octobers I have left. But this I know--looking out the window at the colored leaves-- my, my despite it all it really is a beautiful world.
Sorry to keep writing and writing. But these are some of many things I cannot leave out of my dash. (And if you think this is only a "How Great Thou Art" piece that was my intention I don't think.)
--Roger Lovette / rogerlovette.blogspot.com
No comments:
Post a Comment