Your Pastor

January 14, 2014

Dear St. Paul’s Family,

It is rare for me to use the Mid-Week Message as a forum for personal self-reflection, but these last few days have prompted me to think about the privilege I have to serve as your pastor. 

On Saturday night, I received a phone call from the family of Bud Clow that he was likely drawing toward the close of his life.  They have given me permission to share the story of his final moments with you. 

Many of you remember Bud as a gentle, hardworking member of our community, serving the common good as a public servant, farmer, family man, and World War II veteran.  Last October, he was diagnosed with two brain tumors which, for any other man, would havedebilitated his spirit and filled him with gloom.  But not Bud.  Shortly after his diagnosis, he was back in the combine helping with the harvest.  He faced each long drive to Sioux City for his daily radiation treatments as joyful opportunities to enjoy the rolling Iowa landscapes and conversationswith friends.  He spent countless hours in his shop, working on his wood crafting.  And he shared many more loving, tender moments with Dorothy, his beloved bride of 65 years.

When I arrived on Saturday night, Dorothy and her family were gathered tightly around Bud, as he lay in the Hospice bed set up in the living room.  His breathing was sporadic but certain, his eyes were closed, and his countenance calm and still.

For preachers, words are our stock in trade.  We are called to be wordsmiths for life’s most muted moments, employed to give language to our innermost stirrings.  But in that moment, there was little necessary for me to say.  There would be no wishful pining for physical healing.  There would be no saccharin clichés about “leaving this earth behind.”  There would be no impersonal recitations or canned answers.  Instead, I could offer nothing but the silence of my own gentle presence.

As I watched the family share tender words of love and gratitude to Bud, tears rolled down their cheeks as they held each other’s hands in a communal circle around his bed.  Some of them leaned in to whisper to him, while others spoke them aloud for others to hear.  It was then that I felt a deep sense of privilege for being asked to share in that profoundly private moment. 

I’ll be honest with you:  it’s easy to forget what an honor it is to be a pastor.  Most clergy require the wearing of such a simultaneous diversity of hats that we numbly jump through enough daily roles to make our heads spin:  we are part CEO, part administrator, part visionary, part fundraiser, part counselor, part scholar, part personnel manager, part facility supervisor, part teacher, part inspirational writer, part motivational speaker, part coach, part cheerleader, part spiritual director - - and that’s just the tip of the iceberg. 

But it took standing there with the family of Bud Clow to remember why I wouldn’t trade in this complicated, chaotic, unpredictable job for any other in the world.

Dorothy knew I usually brought my hymnal, so she asked me to sing a verse of “It is Well with My Soul.”  I obliged, taking special note of Horatio Spafford’s beautiful poeticline: “When sorrows, like sea billows, roll.”  I then flipped a few pages back to “How Great Thou Art,” and sang that first verse, too.  In the span of those few minutes, Bud listened to the loving, grateful words of his family, and heard the confident, faithful hymns of the saints. 

And by the time I finished singing, Bud had stepped into eternal glory.

Beautiful doesn’t begin to describe what the family said they experienced at that time.  They would add the words mysterious, poignant, and powerful.  And I would say the words sacred and holy.  Truly, God’s presence filled that room and buoyed our souls in a fashion unlike any other that family had ever experienced.

There is no other profession in which a person like me – essentially an outsider – is invited into a family’s most privately fragile, delicately guarded moments of emotional tenderness.  For the community of the faithful, specifically this St. Paul’s congregation, you invite me into and along for these amazing, sacred journeys.

And why is that?  Why do you invite me into these moments?  It has little to do with my personality, my abilities, or my expertise; I’m comfortable enough with myself to readily acknowledge that.  And I certainly offer no medical expertise or clinical care, so the non-believing world usually wants little to do with pastors like me.

You invite me into your lives because yours is a sacramental, incarnational, and communal faith.  You believe in a God who is neither distant nor diffident, but has chosen to draw near to us, even in the most turbulent times, through the most ordinary means.  You believe that God is here, close by.  And even though you believe in a deeply personal God who is as close to you as your own breath, you rely on the resources of community to sense the love of God in the companionship of others. 

You rely on your pastor to remind you that no matter what you see in this life, there is more to life than what you see.  There is always light tucked in the shadows, joy amid the mourning, a meekness that will inherit the earth, and resurrection that will conquer death itself. 

And sometimes, when your pastor doesn’t know what to say, let alone how to say it, it’s a reminder that even your pastor is a human, too, struggling to find words for the unspeakable and images for the unimaginable.  No matter what, I’m hear to remind you that some of the greatest, most beautiful truths may be just outside our gaze, but never beyond God’s reach. 

In case I forget to tell you, it’s quite a privilege to serve as your pastor.

Grace and Peace, 

Magrey 

The Rev. Magrey R. deVega

St. Paul's United Methodist Church

531 W. Main St.

Cherokee, IA  51012

Ph:  712-225-3955

Email:  mdevega@sp-umc.org

WORSHIP THIS SUNDAY

Join us as we continue our sermon series on discerning God’s will with a sermon titled “How Can We Hear God?”  If you know someone who is struggling to listen for God’s voice in their lives, you might invite them to this meaningful service. 

THANK YOU, ST. PAUL’S

Thank you for your generosity and faithful giving throughout this last year.  We were able to pay all of our expenses and now move forward with a fully approved budget for 2014.  We look forward to a bright year of putting God’s love into action together.

UMW RECOGNITION SUNDAY

Join us as we celebrate the wonderful ministries of mission and outreach by this vital part of our denomination.  In addition, our UMC unit will be recognizing three individuals in the church who embody the mission of St. Paul’s. 

To view past editions of the Mid-Week Message, visit  http://mdevega.blogspot.com. 

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