27 August 2007
Beloved in God:
Bishop Patterson had finally told me that if I wanted to go on a retreat prior to starting my work at St. Thomas the Apostle, I was welcome to use The Bishop Mason Center in Flower Mound the last week of August. That was 1989. No one, save the manager, would be on the property while I was there. Being alone with God might be a possibility…if I were open to that possibility. Back in those days, Bishop Mason Center was surrounded by pastures and quite cows. It was out in the country with “lakes” or ponds near. I had the use of Harte House with a kitchen, a living room and a chapel all to myself…and the outdoors. The weather was sunny and very hot.While I had been in Dallas from the beginning of August, I would not become the rector until September 1st, a Friday that year. That last several days of August was supposed to help me get in touch with the God whom I believe had called me to St. Thomas the Apostle to work with and among its people. We are a match made not only in Heaven but also by the Great Computer in New York City where clergy profiles and parish profiles mix and mingle. Your parish profile found things in mine which caused my name to be sent as a possible “match.” Phone calls; visits by two members of St. Thomas the Apostle (Bettye Shafer and Bud Brightsprock) to the parish I served in Milwaukee; a trip to Dallas for meetings with the Search Committee and the Vestry and the then Canon to the Bishop. Back in Milwaukee I waited for the Committees and the Bishop of Dallas to make their decision about whether to issue a call to me. I learned later that the Bishop of Dallas was concerned that I might be opposed to the ordination of women. Candidly, I came to accepting women’s ordination slowly. The call came and I accepted it.
;)
What was God up to? Perhaps the week at Bishop Mason Center would give me some hints. I took books with me, too many. If you are going to be alone out in the country surely books are the answer if you are looking for Divine illumination. Then I recalled the monk who told me that while on his week-long retreat prior to taking his life vows, he spent all his time remembering how much God loved him…and did not open a book. I tried a little of both. Reading was easier than remembering God’s love…I suspect that I am not alone in this spiritual problem. I did a lot of walking. I tried to soak up some sun, but found the temperature enough to bake me. I left the camp with something I had not brought with me…poison ivy. It was that poison ivy which introduced me to my doctor who probably wishes poison ivy were the worst problem I had ever brought him.
Friday, September 1st the parish had a “welcome the new rector” reception in what used to be the Parlor (now the South Room). The place was packed even though it was a holiday weekend. All those people and August temperatures turned the space into a hothouse. It felt exactly like a hothouse: a place where people were scrutinizing each other, checking out the new guy who was doing some checking out on his own to be sure. People were gracious. This was the first time most of them had had to meet me or I them. It was a memorable way to end my first day on the job.
Sunday, September 3rd had bumps in it. I still recall entering the doors of the church (then the parish hall) and seeing before me a room filled with broad backs and singing like I had never heard in any Episcopal Church. It took my breath away. While I recall what I tried to say in my homily, most of you probably don’t. I was then and remain deeply conscious of the work and ministry of Guy Usher and Ted Karpf, my two predecessors who shaped and molded the direction of the parish during their tenures. Their gifts are still among us. St. Thomas the Apostle is what it is partially due to these two men, but mainly due to the lay people who have been and are part of this parish now. You are the people who shape and mold who and what we are as a parish, I believe. We priests are fortunate to serve among so many talented people eager to know God and make God known while serving, serving, serving.
The service ended on lots of high notes until the Senior Warden told me I had offended two long-time members of the parish by not being willing to bless them on their anniversary. They would not be back. The fence mending and bridge building God wants of us all began.
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