Scott’s Column: The Stories & Relationships

Since announcing my pastoral transition, I’ve used these weekly newsletter columns to survey the highlights of our fifteen years of ministry together and to offer my thoughts on the opportunities and challenges faced by First Central in the future.  Today I wanted to reflect a little differently.

Remembering highlights of ministry leaves out much of the day-to-day actions of a pastor and preacher.  Much of what we do is not measurable but occurs in the interactions with people.  Pastoral ministry is relational, so the most important aspects of my ministry are contained within stories and moments of personal interaction.  Of course some of these are sensitive and confidential and remain between me and the person.

Some are funny stories to tell.  Like the youth canoe trip where every canoe except mine tipped.  Jarret Gustafson was in the canoe with me because that was one of the many times he was wearing a cast as an adolescent.  I’ve never been sure that he wasn’t disappointed to be the only youth who didn’t tumble into the water?  Instead, he and I had to rescue every capsized boat and its occupants.  But his poor mom Wendy just left her canoe to float down the river, made her way to the bank, climbed up, walked through a field to the road, and got a ride back to camp.

I’ve got another church-related water rescue story.  With a different group of youth, we were on a confirmation retreat at Elizabeth Wearin’s farm, and her dog fell through the ice into the creek, and I ran down into the creekbed and pulled him to safety.

There are of course the sad moments as well.  The most acute of these in my memory is the day that Felix Sihakom died, visiting him and Rick in his hospital room.  These moments of acute crisis are also those when all of a pastor’s gifts are called upon.  I feel especially proud of the funeral and the Sunday sermon that followed those horrific days.  For a time the Mental Health Network of the United Church of Christ highlighted that sermon on their website as a model for preaching in response to a suicide.

I’ve told this story many times, but it is among the most profound during my ministry here.  After Rick Richard’s and Steve Jackson’s four-year-old grandson Ryder had died of cancer, I was struggling with the funeral sermon.  In the church office, I was talking about this struggle with Edie Godfrey, and I said, “The first thing one has to acknowledge is that there is nothing one can say.”  Edie stood up from behind the desk and started walking directly toward me with her hands clasped together in front of her and said, “You are the one who has to have something to say.”  I felt like the prophet Isaiah had appeared and given me instruction.  That sentence has stayed with me at every moment of crisis ever since.  And clearly it worked.  Ryder’s aunt Robin still will talk to me about how much that funeral sermon meant to the family.  She even has a tattoo that relates to something I said in that sermon.

Of course accompanying Edie herself in illness and death was a profound pastoral experience.  I’ll never forget that final Ash Wednesday, marking her with the ashes and saying, “You are dust and to dust you will return” knowing that she was in the process of dying.

I think of the many beloved people who have died.  I’ll never forget visiting Dorothy and John Hill (John’s still alive at 104) and enjoying them telling their stories; it was like listening to Burns & Allen.  Al Jensen was such a kind and generous presence every Thursday at the church, carrying out various maintenance tasks.  When he died, we left his hat in the narthex and his cardigan in the work room for years.  Martha Evans liked to call me “kiddo.”  Kent Kirwan and I discussed political philosophy in his hospital bed.  When Pipi didn’t remember much else, she did remember songs and hymns, and during our 160th anniversary service, David Ruhe and I sat on the chancel and watched her singing whole-heartedly on the front pew.

As a pastor you walk with people and families through the significant moments in life.  And after fifteen years that means I’ve become deeply embedded in so many families, having buried their elders, counseled them in crisis, married the young adults, confirmed the teenagers, and baptized the babies.  Jacob Lang was my first baptism at First Central and my first infant baptism, and it appears that his great-grandmother Margaret Hole will be my final memorial service.

I remember 2011 as the summer of weddings–seven church members got wed that year. When I performed Rick Richards and Steve Jackon’s legal wedding, it was a year after we had celebrated their 25th anniversary, a part of the history of marriage equality in the time I’ve pastored here.  In 2015 Michael, Sebastian, and I traveled to Hudson, New York for Desi Fortina’s wedding.  Sebastian was five months old; it was his first flight, his first big trip, his first wedding.  Last year it was fun to celebrate Will Gustafson’s marriage, as I met Will at his aunt Tracy’s house when I came for my candidating weekend in May 2010 and he was only 14 years old.

I’ve watched everyone move into new life stages.  The middle aged parents of young adults, like the Sharpes or Fortinas or Ferbers, are now retired grandparents.  The active seniors are now of advanced age.  The teens and young adults are parents and beginning to enter middle age.  And those who were once little kids have grown up.  Claire Bouma is a good marker of my time here.  She was six and too short to reach the candles the first time she acolyted.  Natalie Lewis and I taught her and Elliot Mitchell for five years in our Wednesday night Phase One and then Confirmation.  Teenage Claire babysat and then nannied Sebastian.  And now she’s a senior in college, about to graduate and start her career.

And then there are the ways the church is embedded in my family and my personal story.  I arrived here as a 36-year-old newlywed and leave as a 51-year-old divorced single father.  After we moved in, the Riggenbach’s came over to help us figure out what trees and landscaping we had.  Carolyn Baldwin and Amy Druliner recommended home improvements and old house restoration projects.  Edie Godfrey drove us to the airport when we finally got to travel to Italy for our honeymoon.  Pat Lamberty & Tracy Zaiss both helped Michael secure jobs.  Susan Fortina was one of the witnesses for our legal ceremony on the pedestrian bridge.  Gene Spence helped us get a foster care license–the first gay couple in Nebraska to receive one.  We spent my fortieth birthday in Hawaii where the McConnells were gracious hosts, meeting us at the airport with flower leighs.  The whole church surrounded us with warmth and joy when we announced the upcoming birth of Sebastian.  Wendy Wiseman hosted a fabulous shower, in which we were quite literally showered with gifts.  Jennifer Forbes-Baily was Sebastian’s first baby-sitter so Michael and I could have a night out.  Pat Lange has always recommended which elementary school teacher we should request.  Wyatt Straka has been Sebastian’s oldest closest friend, as they were born a month apart and have always known one another.  Phil Smith help arrange care for Mom when she had a medical crisis.  Kerrie Kleppin-Winn organized Sebastian’s fifth birthday party, when in the midst of Covid he couldn’t have one with friends, but the church staff filled that role instead.  Kathy Felger and other office volunteers entertained Sebastian for hours during which he’d tell them all about Transformers, Pokemon, etc.  Sebastian used to help Sam Pfeifer clean up the courtyard.  Early on he started calling Jim Harmon “my church friend Jim” and enjoyed going hiking with him.  Katie Miller was essential in providing me pastoral care during my divorce.  Marian Fey took me for tea when she heard the news and offered her advice.  Wendy Wiseman and I began to hang out together as we went through divorce at the same time.  A small contingent of folks, including the Harmons and the Sharpes, gathered with me to observe the ritual for the recognition of the end of a marriage in the UCC Book of Worship.  Natalie Lewis and Katie Miller were among the friends who introduced me to online dating.  The Lowndes and Moriartys have been part of my village, helping me so often with playdates and childcare as I’ve been a single parent.  Sebastian’s church teachers, including Carolyn Ladwig, Susan Dolezal, Sandy Lee, and Lizzie Patterson, have been essential in his development.  I’m so grateful for all of it.

And there’s so much more that has occurred than I’ve written about here.  These are just a few of the memories and stories.  A fifteen year pastoral ministry is rich in stories, because it’s been rich in relationships.