Four Months, Six Days: The Handoff and the Resurrection

At the height of their summer glory, the elephant ears gracing the front of the parsonage where I live looked like this:

After the unusually early and quite hard frost we experienced here on Nov. 12, I found this one lone ear still when I trimmed back the dead foliage.

A bit heartbreaking to lose them so early–they had survived the summer heat unusually well and still were full of life just before the frost. But now they have gone to an early winter sleep and, I trust, they will see their resurrection again in the spring.

But I won’t be here to see that.  Someone else will be living here and either will, or will not, nurture their rebirth.

Nearly five months ago now, I let the Bishop and the District Superintendent know that it had become necessary for me to retire as of December 31, 2013. As I’ve written elsewhere, this painful and complex decision appeared the best of all the options available both for me and for the church I have faithfully served.

I also know many if not most of the folks here got pretty frustrated with what seemed to be multiple delays about making the new appointment. Since many who attend here come from non-United Methodist backgrounds, I started to hear mutterings about “search committees” and “can’t you DO something about this?”

I too grew increasingly concerned.

This is not an entry-level church, or one that can be easily learned. We’re complex, stretched, full of life, and short-staffed. The last thing I want is for the next pastor to “fill my shoes.” I want that person to fill only his/her own shoes. But a good map gives important guidance as to where those shoes will need to tarry for a bit while preparing to make new paths and fresh footsteps. And it takes time to draw that map. I feared we were running out of time.

The delay brought up to me yet once again all sorts of questions about the appointment process and our connection.

I have long contended that a connectional system, for all its problems, still serves the kingdom of heaven better than a series of independent churches which function without accountability. I also think that pastoral search committees pose for more dangers to the local church than a Bishop and Cabinet who can make those decisions based on intimate knowledge of the local charges and of the gifts and graces of the clergy in their care.

But I have wondered if the connection might not serve the rich and well-funded churches and their highly select clergy  well, and perhaps not so well for the smaller, less well-funded and less influential charges and clergy. Now, that’s the way the world has always worked–but we, in the church, are really supposed to operate differently.  Seriously. We really are supposed to be different. We’re supposed to be a place where the last become first, where the least are honored, where the lost are found, where the littlest find intimate welcome.

But money is often the driver. And we’re not moneyed out here in Krum. No uber-rich among us. Our budget is met by deeply sacrificial giving on the part of ordinary people with modest incomes, with an occasional blessed windfall that has seen us through some extremely difficult financial challenges.

We’re vital–no two ways about that. Krum is a small, still fairly rural although rapidly turning suburban, community. We burst with life, with children, with ministry, with gospel-transformation, with forgiveness and covenant and love. We emerge from worship with light all over us, and we enter the world of darkness with that gracious light and give it away. That’s who we are.

But I have been worried, and I admit it. Again, those elephant ears may, or may not, see their resurrection in the spring. The new occupant of this parsonage could dig them up, till them under, or otherwise destroy the soon to be dormant bulbs which need their undisturbed winter rest to see their spring resurrection. Nurture, and the hand-off, matters. I sensed the church was being frost-bit by the delay and might struggle to regain its life again.

But last week, the District Superintendent phoned. An appointment had been made.

On Sunday, after worship and just shortly before the formal introduction to the Staff Parish Relations Committee, I learned the name and, and thought, “I get to bring the news of great joy to this community!”

I say this: the connection worked properly. The Bishop and Cabinet did their job and I was wrong when I said the smaller church is not well-served. I was walking on air when I heard the news. There will be a hand-off and a good one.  I can see the resurrection.

I left the church before the arrival and went to the parsonage and rejoiced with the wonderful folks there who were preparing an elegant reception.

An hour later, the SPRC chair texted, “OTW.” I stepped outside on that cold day because I wanted to document the entrance of the new pastor to that person’s new residence.

And so, I proudly present the next pastor of Krum First UMC:

Whoops. Can’t say who it is yet. Come to church on Sunday and find out.