Thanksgiving. . .

On this day, the feast day of St. Bartholomew (aka Nathaniel), I was installed as Pastor of my first parish, Resurrection, Cairo, New York.  I had already been there a month and been preaching and presiding since their vacancy pastor had served some two years and was longing for relief.  I well remember nearly everything from that first month or so -- from the surprise of showing up at what would be our home as well as the parish where I would serve (without cell phones or much communication at all) to the tensions in the parish that dampened things on both sides of the rail.  But it was the beginning of something better than I could have ever imagined and I still think of Cairo as home in so many ways.

The congregation had suffered the unsurprising divisions of the Charismatic Movement that hit one side of the aisle but not the other.  Both sides thought their best hope for a pastor lie in calling from the Seminary though neither expected someone to show up looking so very different than they might have expected or desired.  It was hard -- hard on them and hard on us.  The first few years were exceptionally difficult and were made tolerable by a few families who adopted us into their homes and lives in ways that continue to amaze me and made us very grateful.  In the end, the success of those nearly 13 years had less to do with me and me knowing what I was doing than the Spirit, the Word, and the means of grace.  It actually needs to be said -- the Word and the Sacraments and the work of the Spirit actually do accomplish wonderful things.  I was privileged to be an agent and instrument through which that work was done.

In the end, these good folks made me a pastor.  The Seminary had educated me and the Church had consented to my ordination but they made me a pastor.  Initially I had thought I was destined for more than a mere parish pastor but they taught me that this was indeed the highest of callings and one I should be grateful and honored in which to serve.  It happened through preparing sermons, planning worship services, catechesis of young and old, baptism of children, burial of the dead, consoling the grieving, visiting the sick and housebound, and listening as well as speaking.  So on this 45th anniversary of that formal installation, I can only say thank you to the good people of Resurrection Lutheran Church, Cairo, New York, for making me into the pastor I am.  Thankfully, a good dose of forgiveness from me and to me have aided the whole process along the way to erase the sharp edges of that past and to fill in the valleys so that I can remember these good people with joy and thanksgiving before the Lord.  So many are now gone and their memories burn in my heart and mind and some are still there contending for the Lord with my daily prayers for their labors.  I have only served two parishes and both have been difficult blessings in which God surprised me with a future I had not expected and surrounded me with people to shape me into the pastor I have become (at least the good parts of me).