The Pastor said we can't hide from the Spirit. She also said the Spirit will blow however and wherever it chooses. But, I've heard this all before, of course.
Five years ago was the last Pentecost that Rod preached. Just a few weeks later all hell broke loose in the Presbytery and our congregation. Four years ago his call had been ended and we were packing up to leave Utah. Three years ago we attended 1st Baptist and they don't really celebrate Pentecost. Two years ago he was too sick to attend church. Last year I might have gone to 1st Baptist, but I really don't remember.
This year, though, I wore my red shirt and prepared to celebrate Pentecost like we used to with beautiful banners, stoles, and hearing scripture in different languages at the local Presbyterian church. The difference, of course, is that I drove to church alone and sat alone. Rod wasn't the Pastor up front declaring the birth of the church by the giving of the Spirit. Rod wasn't the Pastor up front celebrating Communion, either. But, I was one of the many people in the pew. Some of the songs I hadn't sung since our last Pentecost in 2012. Absolutely beautiful songs that took me back to so many services, so many Pentecost Sundays. This morning was very emotional, but I was determined to see it through.
The liturgy, the call and response of the people, the confession of sin, the ritual of forgiveness, the ebb and flow of sound and silence, words and reflection. Regardless of all the pain and terrible upheaval and injustices that happened in 2012 and 2013, this liturgy still speaks Christ to me and still draws me to God. It all speaks to me and calls me home. The institution itself is deeply flawed, but when its worship is strong and Christ-centered it feeds my soul and gives me strength. And within this experience I have found there must be forgiveness. There must be forgiveness.
The Pastor was pretty clear this morning that the Spirit will do whatever it wants with whomever it wants whenever it wants. In other words, when God's Spirit is moving there is nothing we can do to stop it. If we could impact it, we humans would have ended the Church an awfully long time ago. It's a wild testament to the power of the Spirit that the Church is still here, still thriving.
As I sat in the pew this morning I asked God to simply tell me what to do. This is my heart, my soul, my faith, my connection with God and it has been so dismantled by the Utah experience and by Rod's death. So dismantled. But, in this pew, for the past few months, a relative calm has settled in my heart. I say relative because I'm wrestling with it like Jacob wrestled with the angel. I feel so loyal, still so committed to supporting Rod and all the terrible angst he experienced. Am I condoning those who waged war on us in Utah by sitting amongst those with the same affiliation in Oregon? Does love and commitment require me to carry that pain and those injustices the rest of my life? What about Rod's statement to me on July 17th two years ago: "Don't let the past negatively influence your future"? If he is with Christ, and he is, then all that he endured has been swept clean, made new, and redeemed. I am free to worship and follow Christ as best I can without him. In my dreams, he comes wearing bright shirts and always looks so happy and well. He no longer carries the weights or scars of his ministry. He gave his all. He definitely fulfilled his ordination vows.
On my studio white board I've written the last clear thing he said two days before he died: "I have so much left to say." I will wrestle with his last words for the rest of my life. This morning I thought of them in the context of ministry. We both had so much left to say in our ministry. We weren't ready for it to end. We weren't done yet. We still had a lot of ministry left in us. And therein lies my quandary. How do I carry our ministry on? Do I carry it on? What is my part in it now?
To follow these questions I know well enough that the grounding and base of my experience has to be supported by that liturgy, this communion, those songs, and these prayers that held me through the ups and downs of our 20+ years of ministry. The calling of the Spirit was overwhelmingly clear this morning. I found myself standing in a circle after worship with one Pastor, two Elders, one clerk, and one other new person expressing the desire to unite with this congregation. I met a few weeks ago with the clergy couple pastors so they know my full story. I told Pastor David this morning, "This is my home. Even though it drives me crazy, this is my home." He understands.
And so, the wrestling will continue, but I took a huge step today. I arrived at church as a "frequent visitor" and left as a member by re-affirmation of faith. I never thought I'd do this. I never thought I'd be led this way or have the strength for it. But, the Spirit moves as it wills and once in awhile I can stay out of the way.
Five years is a long time. I can finally say tonight that chapter has been closed. I've taken a step of faith with a big helping of forgiveness. And, I'm sure Rod is OK with it. I'm very sure.
Westminster Presbyterian Church
Eugene, Oregon
June 4, 2017