If I had any say – this wouldn’t be happening today.
Don’t get me wrong – we all knew this day was inevitable.
That I would leave St. Andrew’s in one manner or another.
- Moved to another parish (the one I’d hoped for, and which many of us thought)
- Retired (one which seemed so unlikely in the beginning, but in recent years might have been a possibility)
- Died (in which case I’d be carried out – my name would be on the sign board out front and my family would continue on here with their church family)
So the sadness I feel today (the sadness which many of us feel) would have happened in any of those other situations.
But I don’t want to dwell on that, because I believe that will do us no good … but I did want to acknowledge that.
In seminary – we were told this about sermons:
- They should be about God;
- They should be about the readings for the day;
- And they should be about ten minutes.
That was hanging over my head as I started writing this week. As always, I will try to be true to the first, will do my best to line up with the second, but after 20 years and everything that today is about … I can make no promises about the third.
One of our members liked the sermon I gave in September – the SEVENTEEN TIMES sermon. In which I kept referring to the number of times I actually wrote and rewrote that piece – until it actually got what I wanted to say. I’ve lost track of the number of times I started this one … but I can tell you, I’ve been writing it for twenty years.
When Bishop Townshend first sent me here … he didn’t give me a lot of direction, other than:
- Love them!
- Help them to be the people and the church I know they can be.
- Do it all in five years (because that’s how long they will keep you, and apart from Harry Janke no one stayed longer than that … and you are no Harry Janke.
- Oh yes – and get them to pay their apportionment (because we hadn’t been for a lot of years).
Well – looking back, I think we have been successful in most of that. Three years into my time here, we marked our 50th anniversary as a parish. And the nice thing about a 50th anniversary is that many of the founding families were still here … and ALL of the clergy (our first rector Derwyn returned as our retired bishop and he dedicated the wall hanging to the left of the altar – the Dove/Holy Spirit coming down to God’s people) …
The Primate of All Canada (Archbishop Peers) joined us for one of our trademark BBQ’s and dedicated the hanging to the right of the altar … and commented how much he enjoyed the people and the spirit and the BBQ (because for the most part, primates get invited to huge 100th anniversary banquets and listen to countless speeches and formality and historic readings about this – and he loved this – being elbow to elbow with the people (and actually meeting some of the people who were here in the beginning – The Browns, The Gibbons, The Boykos.
On top of that … we made our apportionment that year … and apart from a small hiccup two years later – continued to do so until these last two years.
And I believe a large part of that was because we felt connected to the wider church … to where our apportionment was going. We knew our Primate personally, saw all that was being accomplished, we felt connected to our deanery and diocese (some will say because of my involvement at those levels – but I believe people here WANTED to be connected – so were happy to listen and learn both about the wider church and what it is doing … as well as feeling excited to be connected to that, even if it was just financially.
So at the five year mark – I started my goodbye sermon. I’d left some holes for inserting the appropriate scriptural connection for the day – marking the accomplishments and challenges and people of those past five years.
Every year I would revisit that (in fact every time I applied for a parish in the diocese — thirty times over these past ten years alone)… and I’d make a few adjustments and then when I didn’t make the list, or wasn’t chosen, this sermon went back onto the computer and waited for the next revision.
And so we come to today … and I have no clue what to say. SO many themes and thought and idea still running through my head and my heart. I have had many suggestions from people (members of the parish, and folks from beyond) as to what to say … where to focus. But it’s hard … trying to sum up twenty years (on such short notice) while I’ve been dealing with so many other details of our life (not to mention the ongoing pastoral issues of the parish that have unfolded, that needed my attention).
So – I started by reviewing the numbers ..
- Baptisms – 136 (beginning with EIGHT exactly 20 years ago today – including my Kennedy)
- Confirmations – 12 candidates
- Weddings – 37 couples
- Funerals – 254 (which averages just over one a month)
But numbers can be misleading … because they really don’t tell the full story. And that can be dangerous, because they don’t tell you the specifics – and that is more important than just a number. Each of those numbers represents a person, a relationship – some who had no connection to this church (but became part of us after the baptism or wedding or funeral). Some who had an existing relationship … and as I looked through the record book, remembered them all.
I also started reflecting on all the Physical changes we made in this place – windows , front wall, sanctuary hangings, sanctuary redesign, the addition of the grand piano, and candle sconces and memorial and prayer candles. The recycled asphalt in the parking lot, the pruning of the trees (and the bush that we all thought Bill Gibbons had killed … but were thrilled the following year when it burst into bloom again).
The renovations to the parlour (Derek and I atop a couple of ladders installing a new ceiling, only to accidentally trip the alarm – then trying to explain to the police and fire department why the clergy were ripping apart the ceiling). And the ongoing discussion about the SAME pink walls (one of the things that attracted me to this place in the beginning, we were unforgettable in that sense … the church with the Pepto Bismo hall).
Then the liturgical things we did … Big things, like
- the fantastic music over the years, the stellar organists and choir, and guest performers.
- The advent Carol service which often embraced the wider faith community traditions.
- The unique events we always did on Reign of Christ Sunday … the service centered around the days of creation, the service based on the disciples,
- the guest performers and speakers, and all those interactive exercises we did (which underlined the reality that we are all part of God’s family, no matter how different we may seem to be).
As well as some of the smaller things which sometimes only the donor knew about — and that was okay too:
- Like the small votive candles that randomly appear on the altar
- The rose on the altar for those who had died the previous week (red when it was a member – yellow when it was a friend of the parish)
Then my thoughts turned to today – The Sunday of All Saints – and it’s appropriate that I conclude my ministry on this day … because it is the memory of the people, the saints, which will stay with me the most:
BIG SAINTS – like Andrew (I don’t believe any parish is prouder of – or more aware of – their patron Saint than we are … Andrew- who was happy to take a back seat to allow others the limelight, but who dedicated his ministry to introducing others to Jesus. Often in the most unconventional ways (like the lunch of a small boy, or introducing his brother to Jesus then standing back and letting them soar).
And the ordinary every day saints …. the folks who have sat in these pews with us, and gathered in the parking lot or in the hall for a social event.
These are the memories I hold most dear –and while I won’t speak about all 254 I have buried, some pop to mind immediately …
- Anne Ciuman (my first funeral here, blue advent hangings are in her memory)
- Pat Senior (the church secretary when I arrived – who told me that as soon as she met Camie and I in the initial interview, KNEW, we were meant for ST. Andrew’s … and as the first few weeks unfolded, she believed we would break the five year mark … and might even challenge Harry’s record)
- The Nobles (who worked hard behind the scenes in many events, even when physically they were not able to …. and Brian who preached Stewardship sermons again and again, reminding us we were called to give and give and give not out of our abundance, but out of our scarcity- because only then was the power of God able to be seen).
- The Baileys (Joan and her white fur eating chili on the first tailgate party, Ed baking loaf after loaf of raisin bread which we handed out to guests … so much baking that he burned out three bread machines in one year).
- Eric Hodge (and his notebook and pencil, always noting what work needed doing, and then checking it off when completed)
- Maureen McKnight (who drove through one of the worst snowstorms we had seen in these parts … on an Ash Wednesday … almost didn’t make it here or even up the driveway/ but because she was on Altar Guild felt obligated to be here.
- Wayne Kropf – who was excellent at making everyone feel welcome and included (Wayne was our own Ice-breaker) but who was also one of the deepest thinkers I know – with the biggest heart.
- Gail Beck – who for a while was the ONLY member of the social committee, and plodded on putting on all sorts of fun and unique events. And then when she died left instructions for her NON-FUNERAL … and how the members of our parish all responded to her Memorial Tea.
As well as those folks whom I visited regularly over the years, when they couldn’t join us on Sundays:
- Lloyd Barnes (and Lillian – both decorated veterans – who I often think of on Remembrance Day).
- And Grace Clancy (quiet and unassuming – but looks can be deceiving)
- Froncile Wallace – who would spend hours happily talking about her family, and the people from the church (and who welcomed my daughter into her family on day one).
- Jack & Jeane Kneller (and a solid corp of people who joined us back in the 80’s after Christ Church closed).
I will remember them all …I could go on and on …
But it is not just those who have died that I will remember … but ALL the people who have walked with us these past 20 years.
We have had solid group of people here. I’ve lost count of how many wardens I have served with … people doing all they could (and then some) to support our church.
And the PIPS (what a colleague calls the people in the pews) … who year after year would step up and meet whatever need there was. Whose generosity helped keep our doors open, and meeting the needs of the wider community – when we could have easily circled the wagons and only supported ourselves — which might have helped us a bit longer, but what good would that have done.
People who supported both what we did here as a community, and what I did as an individual. My work at the diocesan level, and later at provincial and national levels, was only possible because I knew I wasn’t alone. That the people of this parish were with me. Maybe not always understanding what it was I was doing … (what IS a Prolocutor anyway) but recognizing that I was doing it AS rector of St. Andrew’s and also making connections with the wider church – on their behalf.
And I will always hold dear — the laughter, the potlucks, the willingness to try anything (no matter how different), and the ability to be honest and truthful with one another (even when it hurts) … I will value that more than you know.
And for all of that – and so much more – I am eternally grateful.
In 1939 – as the world stood looking into darkness and on the edge of a war unlike anything they had ever experienced before. King George VI spoke to his people … and recited these words from the poet Minnie Haskins (The Gate of the Year – 1908)”
I said to the man who stood at the Gate of the Year,
‘Give me a light that I may tread safely into the unknown.’
And he replied, ‘Go out into the darkness,
and put your hand into the Hand of God.
That shall be better than light, and safer than a known way.’
As we conclude our ministry here together …
As you prepare for your (as yet unknown) next chapter …
And I walk into an unknown and uncertain future ….
I do so trusting that we are not alone.
That God continues to walk with us .
That the saints and our prayers for each other will uphold us
And that the Spirit will guide us wherever we go ….
Copyright ©2016 by Rob Towler.