The Preacher and the Boys

 October 27, 2020

Tom and I.  The place of our meeting was the hockey rink or the fastball diamond.  I don’t quite remember which came first.  All I know is those places of meeting were ever so important.  These oldtimers (anybody over 31!) or church teams were absolutely essential in my mind –  and in Tom’s mind and in a whole number of others our age. It was a place to meet around common interest, and better than sitting in pubs or coffee shops. Some of our team-mates attended church regularly, some occasionally, some not at all.  It mattered not to me.  Having grown up in Osler – Warman area I understood the ball diamond or soccer pitch or hockey arena.  I could not envision trying to say anything behind a pulpit if it had not had some testing out there!    

In Edmonton I played first base and Tom was our rather formidable pitcher.  [Did I mention that my pastoring career moved to Edmonton after fairly brief stint in Saskatoon?  And lo and behold Tom & his wife and their two young sons also showed up!  And they were definitely among the regular eager participants in all things in that dynamic new congregation].

The beginning of Faith Mennonite Church in Edmonton was like a swarm – we all went everywhere.  After church it was a family thing; me and my family, everybody else and their families or girlfriends or assembly of relatives or friends, off to the ball diamond.  "Hum ball big Tommy man, like you can, like you can big fella right down the old tube. Rock ball." The preacher did the talking in his left ear and he threw the curve balls!  On Sunday mornings he did the listening (Well, you know…).  One year we won the Edmonton Church League championship.  We had to.  After all we now resided in the City of Champions. 😋

Ten good years there and off to Calgary. I believe it almost providential that Tom and I moved to Calgary with our families again almost at the same time – me to begin in a new pastorate, and he to pursue a considerable promotion in his employment with Parks Canada.  My work became quite stressful, and his - - - I don’t know for sure.  We just did not connect quite as much even though he and family again joined the church I was the pastor of.

The preacher and the pitcher perhaps not connecting quite as much, but his wife and my wife were best of friends - steady force even until Marg's passing in 2003. Also this preacher has a thing with depression – my diagnosed thorn in the side which eventually led to ‘my alter ego career.’  So Tom and I; our relationship changed perhaps a bit - from preacher and the pitcher to trucker and the businessman.  Not quite so much “hum ball, rock ball”, but a little more of trucker stories by the preacher, and lots of detail about this and that (Tom's specialty was to get the details right). 😁  

Richard Rohr, in his popular spiritual book, Falling Upward: Spirituality for the two Halves of Life (2011), says we all spend the first half of our life trying to make our mark, and the second half dealing with what we have not accomplished. I think that was us. We spoke about the wide open U.S. interstates, about his hunting trips, about God, about his hobby photography, and of course our common Saskatchewan knowledge base.  Alberta politics always got analyzed from that vantage!  Also many discussions about us Mennonites. No secret here we approached it differently, he the cultural Mennonite, and me still the preacher (born-again even, gospel requires born-again). Quite often whether from the preacher or the trucker he heard from me my strong theme that God does not care about pedigree. God cares for you and for me. It was like he agreed with me but did not like me to get going on that too much. Our friends, our other good buddies? Varieties of opinions on said subject.

So I could go on. The unspoken agenda - the one identified by Rohr - about things not quite getting done, some things avoided. It is so nice to laugh with someone about things like that! And both of us knew that more than ever we needed each other. Last several years many times he enthused that we could acquasize together to help with his latter malady, parkinsons disease.  I in turn appreciated him helping me finally agree with him that maybe I should retire!  Tom, we were so different, and we so needed each other.  I thank my God in all my remembrance of you (Phil. 1:3).

 

February 11, 2021

John and I.  I remember precisely when we first met.  It was after morning worship service, my first sermon at Trinity Mennonite, Calgary.  John was pleased, cheerful, complete with welcoming hearty handshake and introduction of his eldest son. Somehow he didn’t get that quite right and the son was so embarrassed that his dad should say it that way!  I completely understood John not getting it quite right for a son of that important adolescent age. I regularly suffered the same mistakes with my daughter of similar age.  Life is hard when you got fourteen year-olds. John and I became friends.

Several Sundays down the pike, just getting into my work as new pastor at Trinity, and as per suggestion from our Mennonite conference worship guides, we had a “No Oil Sunday”.  Obviously the goal was to raise environmental and lifestyle awareness including the suggestion that congregations utilize alternative transportation getting to church on that particular Sunday. Those within walking or biking distance complied obediently, enthusiastically, or perhaps indulgently! Obviously there were also the acreage dwellers among us, those who drove twenty to thirty kilometers to church – and they of course came by their usual method.  Everybody cooperating with the new pastor as much as possible; my sermon and worship demeanor of course accommodated all, including visitors, in full diplomacy.  We worshiped hospitably, cheerfully, even as I became aware of John’s Engineering Company hard at work in oil and gas, along with others in this church in similar professions. 

Needless to say we quickly got acquainted. Varying perspectives politically, theologically and otherwise were soon discovered. It was the Calgary way as opposed to the Edmonton way. Life continues within church communities even as certain lines in the sand become evident. It was also understood that I would remain an Edmonton Oilers fan; how could I not after having won five Stanley Cups in the previous decade! 

The joy of a pastor and the people especially in Anabaptist Mennonite congregations, is that the preacher must never presume to be proclaiming the Word of God from the pulpit.  It does not become 'the word' until the people have said amen.  In other words the pulpit is not the place of authority; the preacher is a servant of the people gathered (something easily forgotten among today’s young preachers). This theological uniqueness, once understood, was greatly affirmed by John. We had many discussions on precisely that, along with spiritual, career, and personal implications thereof. And, many times there would be from him the “Amen”, or there would be a little discussion, both of us understanding the limitation and the blessing thereof.

What a pleasure to have John in the congregation, clearly a born-again Christian, along with my similar claim (John 3:3), he from his UC background and me from my OC!  We are who we are not by lineage but by the grace of God.  Using his referent MBC (Mennonite by Choice) John’s supportiveness was everywhere, openly and obviously displayed by his service as usher, and more deeply by his participation in the stewardship life of the congregation. My eyes still well up as I recall one occasion we discussed the absolute importance of the scripture in 2 Corinthians 9:7 Each of you should give what you have decided in your heart to give, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver. Not only did he believe it, but he practiced it. On several occasions I experienced this theology of generosity and supportiveness well beyond what might be expected of church members.

Retirement is a considerable challenge. A good portion of that challenge is to no longer be the pastor but yet participate in the ongoing congregational life.  These two friends, congregants now deceased, obviously have been significant players in this retirement chapter of my journey. In fact I now realize this blog post is actually an expression of my grief (Elizabeth Kubler Ross, On Death and Dying, 1969). Many things these last several years would illustrate that - projects of the day, things accomplished or not accomplished (cf also Richard Rohr). Much of this was discussed in our homes, in church, local restaurants or social gatherings including the occasional brewskie. Two different personalities, yet common enough to represent sizable portions of the people who make up our churches. We are definitely a faith community beyond or in spite of our vocations or professions. Tom liked the comfort of fellow ‘religionists’.  He knew much detail about Mennonite history, even quite conversant in his family’s lineage and influence back in the old country.  John also knew considerable history, but talked little about that detail.  His discoveries revolved more around family and then the faith as represented by us Mennonites and obviously his beloved wife.

Eventually John experienced some disappointment with us, his church family - some things proceeding not as per his understanding of the Bible. He was considerably bothered by fellow Mennonites living to suit modernist trends rather than clear teachings in the book. Tom on the other hand not too bothered; he read history and financial statements, not so much the Bible.  Both of these friends, my brothers in Christ, also lived each under some self-reproach for some personal short comings they wished they did not have.  Interestingly this is a 'forever' problem, even the Apostle Paul struggling with a personal ‘thorn in the side’ (2 Corinthians 12:7). Very often we camouflage personal disappointments by holding even greater conditionals over fellow believers. Therefore a secretiveness often may hover even over a people of genuine faith. 

This however is not about that, and certainly not a theological treatise. It is about my two friends, the red neck and the liberal.  I am lonely for both of them.  Praise the Lord, we have room for one another within our Anabaptist communities. It has been my privilege to walk alongside their earthly days.  Both of them on several occasions fully acknowledged the words from Hebrews 9:27. It is appointed for men to die once, and after that comes judgment.  They were good with that. I am good with that.