Old South Church
Boston MA 02116
http://www.oldsouth.org

What's inside?

• Call by Suzanne Woolston Bossert
• A Wonderful Guy is Called to the Ministry by Michael Fiorentino
• Leadership: It's About All of Us by Margaret Bush
• The Robert Christenson Award by Duane Day
• Toward the Prophetic Imagination by Kip Tiernan
• The Choice to March by Elizabeth England
• Let's Talk by Steve Silver
• How Great Thou Art by Linda Dini Jenkins
• God Spoke in Ages Past by Robert Lewis
• Call for the Literary Reporter

Call
By Suzanne Woolston Bossert

Becoming an ordained pastor is a tricky business.

Indeed, the search for a senior pastor at Old South Church has taken on a special poignancy for me in the past several months, in that I too was plunged into the same discernment machinery, albeit from the opposite side. In mid-2002, after four years being in-care at OSC, my own quest for a clergy placement in a church began in earnest.

Aside from myriad preliminary academic obligations (including a Master of Divinity degree), there are numerous denominational requirements, such as various interviews and interrogations in front of a team of UCC ministers and lay leaders, aka the “Committee on Ministry.” Once these seemingly endless challenges are conquered, then one enters the hazy netherworld termed “privilege of call” which, as Dave Barry would probably say, is just a fancy spiritual name for “trying to find employment.”

This realm is not for the faint of heart.

My partner Ellen, after sizing up all of the various hoops I’ve had to jump through, said, “It’s easier to get elected President of the United States than it is to get ordained!”   In some ways, that has felt true as we’ve navigated through the murky, mysterious waters -- going upcountry in the dark, going towards God.

Indeed, from the cozy shade of my pre-seminary past, I’d always imagined that becoming a pastor would unfold like a Biblical narrative come to life.  After heeding the summons to ministry, then surely God would throw doors open triumphantly, allowing me to ride into my new vocation like Jesus entering Jerusalem on a Palm Sunday donkey.  Well, the experience of discerning a call was scriptural, alright, but more akin to the “wilderness story of Exodus!”  The progression felt so agonizingly slow that mid-way through I began to question God. I began to empathize with the exhausted complaining of the Israelites in the shimmering desert.  From Day One, Rev. Lael P. Murphy was assigned the task of companioning me along this long road, and only her insistence on viewing the experience as a test of faith helped me ride out my impatience.  I remember resisting the beautiful elements of the call process almost in spite of myself, because I couldn’t seem to stop thinking that God was being inefficient. (Isn’t it so American to want to play Monday morning quarterback, even to the Lord Almighty?)  I felt like I’d completed my ministerial training with competent dispatch. Yes, I’d kept up my end of the bargain, but where was God?  What had felt like the finish line -- gaining approval to seek a call for ordination -- instead became a cue for the “Twilight Zone” theme song.  I’ve heard this echoed by other ministerial candidates in the search process, as well as a few search committees.  What exactly makes the “call” process so hard for ministers and congregations?

Unmanaged expectations are the main culprit. For instance, I thought things would somehow be different for me. How hard could it be to find a job? After all, in my previous life I was co-owner of a multi-million dollar company, and an All-American athlete before that. I only knew one speed: full-tilt towards success.  Why would ministry be any different from the corporate or athletic world?

In retrospect, it’s obvious that I suffered disillusionment in direct proportion to my naivete. My fatal mistake was in presuming that God’s methodology (and our UCC congregational polity) would in any manner resemble the marketplace of corporate America. Everything I supposed was based on the vocabulary of another world. But churches are not corporations, at least, not in the UCC. Pastors are not CEOs, able to receive data points and close deals with the hyper-urgency of the 24/7 world.  The business world is to the church world as mathematics are to the alphabet: both have their own logic, but both are different languages entirely.  Making matters worse was the economic landscape of 2002. In opposition to the glowing reports I’d heard previous to seminary, in reality the “job market” of the UCC/Metropolitan Boston Association of the UCC was nothing short of abysmal. Not just unattractive jobs --NO jobs. Not even below-the-poverty-line pastoral jobs at unhealthy congregations with terrible commutes!  “Um, God?” I wanted to say. “What’s going on here?” This wasn’t what I’d expected at all.

Do you feel that way at Old South yet?

Our beloved Rev. Crawford has been gone almost a year now, yet I just saw in my mailbox this week a draft of OSC's congregational profile, which means it hasn’t even gone into circulation yet. Does that feel slow? Or are you wiser than I was about the ways and means of a journey like this?  If you are uninitiated to the peculiar realm of “call,” you may think that filling the vacancy at Old South would be simple. I mean, isn’t Old South attractive in every way? Beautiful historic sanctuary, impressive endowment, awesome expression and execution of core mission, a talented staff of associate and intern pastors, and of course, a faithful, diverse and loving congregation . . . surely, all the vibrant, charismatic, super-pastor candidates in the country would leap at the chance to partner with such a place!

That is probably all true, and yet, the process will be slow. There is a lot of space between the fact of the existence of a dynamite church and the fact of the existence of a talented candidate. In that space, what my Dad used to call “the Holy Ghost” whistles and whooshes, blowing out the dust of old dreams and scouring the crevices of any lingering confusion of vision. As you know, the real work of the congregation, mediated by the search committee, is to understand who you are now, and who God is calling you to be -- together -- in the days ahead. The answers may be surprising.

In any case, the amount of time you take in understanding in a fresh way who and what you are to be (to Copley Square, to Boston, to the world) will have a direct bearing on who will be your next senior pastor. It may not be the candidate with the most impressive credentials.  It may not be the candidate that most resembles Jim Crawford (either at the beginning or end of his wonderful pastoral career). If this congregation is wise, then comparisons will be set aside, so that enough space will be granted to be truly open to the Spirit’s guidance. Thinking with the heart is so much harder (and more time consuming!) than thinking with the brain. Be nice to your search committee -- they have their work cut out for them.

A final note: it would be wise if an admonishment was posted on the cover of all denominational assistance materials sent to churches and clergy candidates who enter the discernment process. It would read: check your expectations at the door.  Although patience seems a virtue I’ve never had time to cultivate (ha!), in my own discernment of call I came to learn a thing or two about the ways the God moves . . .which is to say, God moves independent of the calendar, the clock, or human logic. When we try to “tame” the Divine prerogative by interjecting our own subjectivity and narrow preferences, we often net out with such an inferior result.

I came to learn that the call process has its own sense of fullness of time, both for ministerial candidates desiring a church and for congregations yearning for a pastor.  The destination and the journey are often hard to separate, but what I learned is that the process itself is more crucial than any outcome. Will I really listen intently for God? Will the gathered church community (via its designated search committee), really listen intently for God?  Drilling down to that question, and treating the “job search” as a profound spiritual pilgrimage, will cushion the rockier elements of the wilderness trek.

Happily, my story ends well. Despite my angst and worry, in February 2003, seven months after I’d been cleared to seek a placement, the congregation of the United Parish in Brookline called me to be their Associate Pastor. The emergence of my candidacy had to take that faithful church by surprise -- it was an act of courage for this UCC/Baptist/Methodist (yes, all three under one roof) congregation to call an openly gay mother of two children to be their pastor. They honored God’s voice . . . and so, finally, did I.   This placement exceeds my wildest hopes for a first call: I already love the people of the United Parish, and my mentor, Senior Pastor Pat Coughlin, and the work itself.  As I move now towards my ordination on Palm Sunday, I am chastened to recognize, as I look back at the path I’ve walked since the first day I entered Divinity School, that God wants more for us than we want for ourselves, and that God will provide. . . . What an Easter blessing!

Author's Note: Suzanne Woolston Bossert joined Old South in 1997, coming in-care that same year as an M.Div. candidate at Boston University School of Theology. She graduated summa cum laude in 2001, then worked as a hospital chaplain for one year before receiving a call in February to The United Parish in Brookline as Associate Pastor. Suzanne will miss her friends at Old South and wants to sincerely thank Lael Murphy and the Deacons for helping her realize the dream.  Suzanne will be ordained at Old South on Palm Sunday, April 13, 2003. She can be reached at <revsuzanne@ix.netcom.com>. . . . And in the meantime, Old South continues its own process of call with congregational forums to review its draft congregational profile on April 10 & April 13, 2003.

Leadership:
Its About All of Us
By Margaret Bush, Chair
Parish Fellowship Committee

"Who me? I don't have time. And I don't want to do all that work. I don't know enough people. And who would listen to me anyway? I'm not a leader." . . . Sound familiar?

Carl Schultz, preaching recently in a series called "Key Words for Lent and For Life," chose leadership as one of those key words. He began with an account of a conversation between God and Moses, as recorded in the book of Numbers. Moses had grown discouraged in leading God's chosen people through tortuous years of a desert journey en route to the promised land. Coming to the rescue of the fatigued Moses, God directed him to call together "seventy of the elders of Israel . . . and they shall bear the burden of the people along with you, so that you will not bear it all by yourself."

With seventy others sharing the task of looking out for the people, Moses would no longer struggle as the lone leader. Carl's sermon went on to talk about leadership of this early congregation -- and ours -- as being the shared work of ministering to one another. We minister in many small tasks as we welcome each other in the journey of faith that brings us together in the church. Leadership, it turns out, might not be a really large job held by one or just a few people.

Many months before this Lenten sermon the Parish Fellowship Committee had begun talking about leadership. The committee drew Carl Schultz into our discussions soon after his arrival at Old South. We can't take credit for his sermon, but our talking together has brought out very similar ideas about leadership and acts of ministry within the church.

The Parish Fellowship Committee is a recently organized group. We are charged in the new Old South by-laws with two sets of responsibilities. We bring together representatives of the organized fellowship groups, discuss our common concerns and represent them on Council. We also are charged with oversight of coffee hour and other aspects of fellowship in the church.

When we first started meeting as a committee, the fellowship groups quickly agreed that they wanted to work on developing better leadership within their groups. They had some concerns we've all heard from time to time in other parts of the church. Too few people are willing to share the work or take a leadership role. More needs to be done to make sure that members stay connected and are encouraged to be active. Sometimes visitors to the church will start visiting a fellowship group and subsequently decide to become church members. How can we make our fellowship groups more enticing to visitors?

In January the committee sponsored a Saturday workshop for leaders and potential leaders of the fellowship groups. Sue Dickerman of the Massachusetts Conference UCC led us in discussion. Some of our ideas and her points are not surprising. Leaders are folks with vision who help us get things done. Leaders have many different ways of working. Some are thinkers, and some are doers. We explored many questions. How can we involve members in setting the agenda? How do we build good relationships and dialogue in our groups? How can we affirm our members and make sure they participate well? How do we help the officers of our groups become good leaders?

We didn't get all of our questions answered -- we're still working on that. We're going to do some follow-up workshops and involve more people. This subject of leadership is important in the church as a whole, well beyond only the fellowship groups. Fellowship groups come together in common interest, develop some shared expectations, and grow and work together. Other committees do that, too. So do discussion groups. Council can be included in the list. How about the whole congregation?

The Parish Fellowship Committee has begun conversations with some other committees. We've talked with some of the Deacons' Membership Committee. We look forward to developing dialogue with the Leadership Committee. This time of transition at Old South is giving us a fine opportunity to discuss our vision for the church. We all have such a stake in that. Carl's sermon reminded us that all members share the responsibility for one another. Our discussions of leadership will continue to explore ways we can work together more effectively as a community and in growing in faith. We welcome your ideas and concerns and look forward to sharing with you the many tasks of leadership.
 

A Wonderful Guy is Called to the Ministry
By Michael Fiorentino

As most of you know, Guy Pealer joined Old South last fall as our latest Ministerial Intern. When many (myself included) first saw this warm and kindly mature man in his 50s (a new grandfather, no less!) in our midst, they probably thought "how wonderful that God calls a man at this time in his life to ministry." Interestingly enough, this is not the case with Guy; his calling began many years back.

In the 1950s, Guy grew up in the Baptist church belonging to a congregation that he describes as "conservative but not fundamentalist." He was so touched by the sense of community and family that his congregation offered, being deeply involved with a group of fellow believers is still an essential part of his life. Some of his fondest memories include enthusiastic singing of hymns and hearing Bible stories over and over again in Sunday School classrooms. It was this religious environment that set the stage for Guy's future ministry and left him with three enduring values:
a) a sense of what a warm, safe and caring place the church can be and what it means to be part of the family of God. He says, "I've always had a strong sense of belonging . . . that these pews and windows and people were mine, and that I belonged to them";
b) a strong sense of the unique "otherness" of the holy. A worship service is a place of reverence and awe, not to be taken lightly; and
c) a strong understanding that a Christian is called to be in relationship to God and that that relationship is his/her own responsibility.

Guy considers the sixties the time when he "came of age." He recalls the turbulence both in the world and in his own life. He began to question certain elements of the faith he grew up in. His church started to lean toward fundamentalism and expected strong participation from the congregation. These changes were very discomforting to Guy. While he didn't necessarily object to admonitions against smoking, drinking, cussing, etc., he felt it was equally, if not more important, for the church to take a stand on the burning social issues. Although his congregation was not unconcerned, racial equality and the Vietnam war were overlooked in favor of issues of "personal morality and salvation". Despite being a small child at the time, Guy vividly recalls what he considers a "pivotal memory" of riding a bus with his mother and seeing a black man angrily ordered to the back of the bus by the driver. He continues, "I still feel bad for that man and ashamed that it was people, white just like me, who did it or else just sat there and let it happen." He considered the life of Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. as an inspiration, while some within Guy's church had strong disdain for Dr. King. This disparity led to the difficult (and strongly discouraged) decision to look for truth outside the confines of his first church.

With the memories of the anti-war movement still fresh in his mind, Guy spent three years in the Army. He recalls the diversity (and sometimes lack) of religious beliefs held by his fellow soldiers. Guy explains how he developed anti-Vietnam war sentiments, not originally for theological reasons, "but because I saw that most of the young men dying were African- Americans and poor whites who did not benefit much from the system we were protecting." He still appreciates the biggest lesson the service taught him: "it is possible to accept and love a person who does unjust things, and still oppose the evil that they do."

All these experiences influenced Guy to act upon God's calling him to the ministry while he was a college student. He enrolled in the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary which, at the time, had a reputation for being liberal and progressive, values which Guy respected. Regrettably, as time went on, the denomination seemed to go in the opposite direction. After graduation, all avenues to ministry that Guy felt he could pursue with integrity had been closed. Since Guy's wife was a successful medical professional and they had a three-year-old to care for, they made what in those days was considered a radical decision. Guy would be a "stay-at-home dad". Despite a host of part-time side jobs including nursery school teacher, museum guard, and computer quasi-guru, he has spent the past twenty years in the role of the major homemaker, never once regretting the decision.

As for his "delay" in becoming a minister, Guy had this to say, "While I believe I was called by God, God works on her own time and my time was not yet. Because I take the doctrine of the "Priesthood of All Believers" very seriously, I have always considered myself to be doing ministry in all the many, varied things I have become involved in, both inside and outside the church. But once again I sense that quiet, insistent, relentless voice saying 'now is the time.' " As for moving from a Baptist tradition to UCC Congregational, Guy feels this is his best opportunity to live out his faith more fully and genuinely. He says he is "thrilled at the possibility of becoming a servant of God's people in the church and to spend the rest of my years working for and in God's Church, which I love dearly and in which I have always found my greatest joy." And Old South is thrilled to have this extraordinary Guy on our theological team.
 

The Robert Christenson Award
By Duane Day

The 2003 Robert Christenson Award is going to the Committee to End Elder Homelessness. Robert H. Christenson was Associate Minister of Old South Church from 1978 to 1989 during which time he served as Clergy Administrator to the Outreach and Housing Concerns committee among his many other duties. After Bob's untimely death from a brain tumor in 1989, the Board of Deacons Memorial Committee recommended to Council seven memorial items to help commemorate the diversity of Bob's work as Associate Minister:

1) a Memorial Concert, which took place on March 25, 1990;

2) special Palm Sunday Music, dedicated to Bob by the combined choirs on Palm Sunday, 1990;

3) a Book of Prayers, a representative selection of Bob's prayers was published and copies made available to the congregation;

4) a Remembrance for the Christenson Family was given by Old South Church in Bob's memory;

5) an Andover Newton Student Gift was established based on a one time capital gift of $5,000 to the Andover Newton Theological School, Department of Ministries. The income proceeds of this fund are used to provide a small yearly gift to a candidate in pastoral counseling in remembrance of the high level of pastoral care which was Bob Christenson's "trademark" service to the congregation;

6) a yearly Robert Christenson Outreach Award, to be given to a particularly worthy recipient organization, actively sought out by the Outreach Committee, with $2,000 suggested as a minimum amount; and

7) the Christenson Cross, as designed by architect John McConnell, to be hung in the Sanctuary and dedicated to Bob with an appropriate plaque to be placed in rear of the sanctuary. Subsequently, miniature replicas were made available to congregations members (see the Reporter, Spring 1997 on the Old South website <www.oldsouth.org> for more on this interesting part of the story.)

Previous Christenson Outreach awards have got to Positive Life Styles and to Match-up Interfaith Volunteers, Inc. The Old South Housing Concerns committee collaborated with Positive Life Styles in developing the nine unit SRO (Single Residence Occupancy) Christenson Home in the South End for recovering homeless substance abuse residents. Bob was one of the founders of Match-up, which is committed to helping isolated elderly and disabled adults continue to live independently in their own homes by bringing caring and helpful volunteers into their lives.

Our 2003 Robert Christenson Award designee, the Committee to End Elder Homelessness (CEEH) is a non-profit organization dedicated to the elimination of homelessness among the elderly in Boston. The mission is accomplished through a unique blend of prevention, placement and housing programs, all designed to help elders find and succeed in homes of their own. To this end, all housing hosted by CEEH provides a creative array of supportive services that assist residents to age with dignity, regardless of their special, medical, mental health or social needs. CEEH believes these goals are best accomplished through respect for elders and trained staff with the desire to see all achieve their highest degree of potential. CEEH was incorporated in 1991 and opened its Bishop Home in Jamaica Plain for nine elderly homeless women in 1992. Today, CEEH operates 192 permanent housing units in eight locations with appropriate stabilization services for homeless men and women 50 years and older. Most are low-income and have complex mental, physical, and substance abuse problems. Homeless elders are referred to CEEH through shelters, transient housing programs, hospital social workers and other public and private agencies. At a Massachusetts Health Policy Forum with over 200 participants held at the Omni Parker House Hotel on December 2, 2002, CEEH was recognized as one of the most successful and cost efficient elder housing programs in the entire United States.

On an upcoming Old South Sunday worship service, Anna Bissonnette, Board Chair and Founder of CEEH, will be presented with the 2003 Old South Church Christenson Outreach Award by James Early, current chair of the Old South Christian Service and Outreach Committee. Anna will give a Moment for Mission presentation on the work of CEEH, a worthy recipient indeed to honor again the life and work of Bob Christenson.
 
 

Toward the Prophetic Imagination
by Kip Tiernan

Prophecy is born precisely in that moment when the emergence of social political reality is so radical and inexplicable that it is nothing less than a theological cause. We will not understand the meaning of prophetic imagination unless we see the connection between the religion of a static triumphalism and the politics of oppression.

We will never have a politic of justice and compassion unless we have a religion of God’s freedom. Our sociology is predictably derived from, legitimized by, and reflective of, our theology. And, if we gather around a static god of order who only guards the interests of “the haves,” oppression cannot be far behind.

The task of prophecy is to empower people to engage in history. Then, it means evoking cries that expect answers, learning to address them where they will be taken seriously, and ceasing to look to the numbed and dull empire that never seriously intended to answer in the first place. These days we all lack passion. Walter Bruggemann, author of the Prophetic Imagination, believes that the possibility of passion is a primary prophetic agenda and that is precisely what the “royal consciousness” means to eradicate.

There was a time when we were passionate. We were passionate about civil rights in the 70s. Passion has the capacity and readiness to care, to cure, to suffer, to die and to feel -- this is the enemy of imperial reality.

Imperial economics is designed to keep people satiated, so they do not notice. It’s politic is intended to block out the cries of the denied ones.

Until we indulge ourselves in prophetic criticism and we are willing to embrace the pathos of our present reality, we cannot hope to recover from our apathy. We need to ask the questions we have forgotten to ask again! We need to ask not if it is realistic or practical or viable, but whether it is imaginable. Have we been so robbed of the courage or power to think an alternative thought? I hope not!

Note: the above is a selection from the Poor People’s United Fund’s A Winter Meditation -- 2002 by Kip Tiernan. Old South’s Theological Book group (led by the Rev. Mills-Knutsen) recently concluded their own discussion of Bruggemann’s Prophetic Imagination in mid-March. The Poor People’s United Fund (PPUF) was founded in 1980 by Kip Tiernan (founder of Rosie’s Place) and Fran Froehlich in response to the drastic cuts in government funding to human service organizations, cuts that left many smaller grassroots organizations without vital program funds. Today PPUF provides direct assistance to individuals in need and supports neighborhood groups, including Project Care and Concern, Sojourner House, Everyone Deserves Enough, Dorchester Women’s Committee, and Survival, Inc. Since the mid-1980s, Old South has provided space for PPUF’s office on the second floor of the Gordon House. Kip, Fran and the other staff and volunteers of PPUF are an important part of the Old South community. Their mission is our mission. -- Elisa Blanchard, OSC Operations Manager.

The Choice to March
By Elizabeth England

One day we must come to see that peace is not merely a distant goal we seek, but that it is a means by which we arrive at that goal. We must pursue peaceful ends through peaceful means. --Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

What makes us Americans? Are we different from other people around the world? What makes us a patriot? Must we be rich or poor, male or female, Democrat or Republican? We are American patriots because we believe all people are created equal no matter the color, religion, gender, sexual orientation, or financial status. What makes us Christians? Does that make us richer, poorer, smarter, dumber, more caring, less caring, more correct in our beliefs or narrower in our thinking? As many of you in the church are aware, I have been vocal about my support for peace. It was one of the reasons that I climbed on a bus late one Friday to journey down to Washington to protest the actions that my government was considering (and later took).

While preparing for the trip, I was given lots of advice from people: bring something to eat, bring bandaids for blisters, drink plenty of water, bring toilet paper, remember sun block, and don’t put yourself in situations that are dangerous. Protesting a war was new to me as an adult. I had protested other causes but this one, I believe, was important to our very humanity.

Some of my friends supported me; some did not support me, while others just shook their heads. Of all the people that I invited to join me, no one did. I believed that I might be alone. Yet, the moment I stepped on the bus people welcomed me. “Where are you from and why are you here?” were the questions asked not only by the reporters that interviewed me, but also by the people who joined me in protest. I met people from all over the country each with their own reasons for being there. I met Vietnam veterans and vegetarians. I met infants and people in wheelchairs. I shouted, cheered, laughed and cried. Sometimes when I did not agree with what was being said I just listened. I was filled with such peace that I never felt alone. We were a group of kindred spirits.

The day was long. We arrived into Washington at 8 am after picking up people from a bus that had broken down. There was a buzz in the air of people getting off different buses and people handing out signs. I did not bring a sign, but a new friend on the bus brought two, so I used one of his. The speeches were to take place by the Washington Monument. The stage was up and people were walking around. There was a large drum in the center of the gathering that was played by a group from Maine. Later on, I was allowed to hit a few beats. When the speeches began, I was unaware of how large the protest had become. I thought maybe 1,000 to 2,000 people were there. We sang, danced, drank plenty of water, and stood in solidarity. There were banners of every size and comments ranging from “Stop the War” to ones that are unmentionable. When the cry went out to start marching, I felt the energy of the crowd with me.

As we walked onto the street, I saw waves of people, all getting in line to march. The line was so long that people were finishing the first lap around the White House, while others were just joining. What I had first thought was 1,000 turned out to be more than a 100,000. Everyone took turns leading the cheers. My favorite was “tell me what democracy looks like . . . this is was democracy looks like.” . . . . And it did.

As a society, we have become complacent to let others do the work. People do not vote because they do not think that it matters. The most important lesson that I learned from marching in Washington is that everything that we do as citizens matters. All of the choices we make have consequences positive and negative -- from the spare change that we give to someone in the street, to the money we drop in the collection on Sundays, to speaking up for what we believe in. Like the nation, my family is divided on what should be done. Both of my parents believe strongly in the importance of speaking out when you feel an injustice is happening. Two of my siblings support the war and another works for the Veterans Administration and supports the people in the military but not necessarily the actions of the Bush Administration. Our one commonality is that we are vocal about our beliefs.

After war was declared, I began to question the importance of what I had accomplished. Other protests that I participated in did not have the same feel. It was only after talking with Reverend Lael Murphy, the other day, that my feelings made sense. I was no longer just protesting for peace but bearing witness too.  Growing up, there was a picture which hung in my house that said, "Patriotism is keeping our country from doing wrong!" That is why I wanted to march and that is way I still march today. When my judgment day comes, as it will come to all of us, I do not want to be judged as only as an "American Christian Woman" but on how I lived my life, the choices that I made, and the actions that I took.

Let's Talk
By Steve Silver

You’ve probably heard someone utter the phrase “if I die.” Often, the choice of a word signifies nothing. But other times, the words we use can be revealing of underlying attitudes, hopes or fears. This is one of those cases. We all know that death is not a matter of “if” but “when.” Yet modern America would prefer to avoid this fact. It’s not news that our society has a great fear of death and aging. Our society celebrates youth, pretending that one need never age. Billions of dollars are spent annually by aging baby boomers trying to stave off reality. The result is that both individuals and communities can be unprepared for the inevitable. But this need not be the case. Our faith tells us otherwise.

We are all familiar with the verses from Ecclesiastes: “For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven: a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant and a time to pluck up what is planted.” The writer of these famous Old Testament words knew what we moderns prefer to ignore: death is part of the bargain of life. A facile observation perhaps but one that, if accepted, can make all of life more fulfilling. By rejecting the idea that we can live forever, we can enjoy life that much more. By embracing old age, we may enjoy the later years of life rather than spend time futilely trying to live in the past. Our biblical faith states that we are finite creatures, bounded by limits. Yet these limits need not be constraining; they can actually be liberating.

By now, you might be thinking, “Well, this all well and fine, but so what? What does this mean for me in concrete terms?” The answer is: a lot. I would ask you to consider the following questions:

· Do you have a properly executed will?
· Have you spoken with your family members about how assets, including prized possessions, should be distributed upon your demise?
· Have you thought about a funeral service? Which hymns might you want to be sung? Scripture passages read?

These are important questions. If you don’t have a will or an estate plan, the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, or wherever you may be legally domiciled, will decide how your estate is distributed (this is an especially important matter for gay couples). Without an estate plan, your assets can go to people you don’t like or trust, an important consideration if you have minor children.

You may be saying to yourself, “I’m not wealthy, so this doesn’t apply to me.” That’s not true. Most, if not all, of us have prized possessions: a needlepoint from a beloved grandmother, a bible from a great-grandparent, a father’s favorite baseball cap. These things may not have monetary value, but they are often invested with great sentimental and emotional meaning. By discussing with heirs at an early date who gets what, you can relieve some pressure within your family. Many families have discovered that bringing everyone together to talk about these issues can not only clear the air, but also can actually strengthen ties and allow for the discussion of a family’s values.

You should also consider that if you haven’t planned now, your survivors will need to grapple with a variety of issues at a very difficult time. Rather than being a time for reflection on, or maybe even celebration of, a life lived well, your death could become a moment of great stress and tension for those you love.

Finally, you may be wondering “How do I do ask these questions and grapple with these issues?” Old South is there to help. On April 6th, the Pastoral Care and Stewardship Committees sponsored a forum called “Let’s Talk: Considering End of Life Issues Together” that explored some of these issues. We hope that this will be the first installment in an ongoing dialogue at Old South as we explore together issues pertaining to death and end-of-life issues.

We try to plan for weddings, college, the purchase or rental of a home, retirement. So why not plan for our demise? We may not be able to avoid death, but with preparation prayer and faith, we can approach it on our own terms.

How Great Thou Art
By Linda Dini Jenkins

I am humming in the shower and suddenly I catch myself and stop. This is ridiculous: an entrenched New England Liberal Congregationalist humming that most Billy Graham-ish of hymns, "How Great Thou Art." . . . I don't even know the words beyond the two closing lines:

Then sings my soul, my Saviour God to thee
How great thou art, how great thou art . . .

What to make of this?

I often sing in the shower. Show tunes. Joni Mitchell songs. Maybe Joan Baez's rousing version of "Amazing Grace" as I rinse my hair and the soap runs warmly down my back. More often than not, though, I catch myself singing some old hymn. My grandmother's hymns . . . They comfort me.

I come to the garden alone, while the dew is still on the roses;
And the voice I hear, falling on my ear, the Son of God discloses.
And he walks with me and he talks with me, and he tells me I am his own,
And the joy we share as we tarry there, none other has ever known.

Author Patricia Schneider suggests in her memoir, Wake Up Laughing, that to us Protestant women, hymn singing is akin to the rosary praying of Catholic women. That we both take some comfort in the familiar, repetitive words. That they bring us back to a simpler or more quiet place, give us focus, clear our minds of the foolish stresses of everyday living, even if only for a moment.

I do believe that hymns are a form of prayer. Music is transcendent, an emotion-filled art, and good words provide us with solace, meaning, and hope. And those who know say that the very act of singing -- or even humming -- fills our lungs with new air and our bodies with life-affirming vibrations. Singing for health! Singing as body work! Count me in.

I grew up in the Methodist church singing the stirring music of the Wesley boys, and the no-nonsense lyrics of the small but mighty Isaac Watts, who created a new style of hymnody with his songs "of human composure." What a legacy! Remember what he did with Psalm 90?

O God, our help in ages past, our hope for years to come,
Our shelter from the stormy blast, and our eternal home . . .

There is something so straightforward and powerful in those words, so much belief, that a communal singing of it becomes an immense affirmation of the strength and support of God. It offers no room for doubt that God has been there all along, and will continue to be. That God has a place for us in the great eternity, and that God's love will never let us go. Pretty good, huh? Sing it to yourself and feel it in your body. Believe it.

Years ago I saw a wonderful play by Tina Howe called Painting Churches, in which the mother character -- a woman in her 70s -- hummed hymns all day long, infuriating her sophisticated, artist daughter. It became a running gag in the play: the mother, the hymns, the rolling eyes of the daughter. And while I don't remember the exact rationale for the mother's hymn signing, I do remember how much I felt comforted by the fact that somebody else did this. That somebody else hummed hymns while dusting, while doing the dishes, while driving . . . that somebody else craved the presence of God in the midst of the routine.

Honestly, I think that's where we find God most. As inspiring and moving as it is to be in community on Sunday morning, to recite the prayers together, to hear the Word together, to sing the songs in unison -- as wonderful as all that is -- I think I feel closer to God one on one, in my wobbly voiced moments of song.

In song I praise God, I seek comfort, I am alone, I am, as one hymn goes, "just as I am." Praying for myself and for others. Hoping for justice, searching for peace, weeping for pain and loss, grateful for comfort, however it comes. Joining with the many who sang before me -- and who still declare -- "How Great Thou Art."

More on Our UCC Identity
by Robert Lewis

Whenever I receive notice that the Old South Calendar or the Reporter is available online, I make every effort to "take up and read" ASAP. I feel blessed for having done so, when the Winter Reporter was published in January.

The article about our United Church of Christ identity (UCC, What's That?) struck a responsive chord with me. I'm not surprised to hear that a fundamentalist church has its own twist on "not putting a period where God has put a comma." It sounds much like the church that had pickets across the street from our convention center at General Synod in Kansas City last year. One evening, UCC President and General Minister John Thomas took to the microphone to appeal to all of us, and especially to youth delegates, not to respond to them in kind. Since, one of my professional hobbies is writing original hymn texts, here is my own personal response to that church and to what it means to be UCC.

God Spoke in Ages Past
Tune: Terra Beata; Meter: S.M.D. (6.6.8.6.D.) (God Reigns O'er All the Earth)

1. God spoke in ages past
  To call forth and create
  A universe that is diverse,
  A world both good and great.
  God spoke in ages past
  To seek and to redeem;
  And those who heard God’s holy Word
  Have shared and served God’s dream.

2. God’s Word has come to us
  In story and in song;
  A company of people free,
  To God we now belong.
  God’s Word has come to us
  Through scripture, font, and meal,
  That we may know and tell and show
  God’s work all ills to heal.

3. God spoke in ages past
  And God is speaking still;
  By day and night more truth and light
  Break forth to show God’s will.
  Yes, God is speaking still
  To promise and to call;
  In covenant we’re called and sent
  To speak to one and all.

4. Go now and speak God’s Word,
  Proclaim God’s message true;
  Let all be told, both young and old,
  That God makes all things new.
  Go now and speak God’s Word,
  Proclaim to all the earth;
  By word and deed meet human need,
  Show forth the gospel’s worth.

Author's Note: this hymn text is based on the theme of the 24nd General Synod of the United Church of Christ, 2003, "God Is Still Speaking." and will be sung at the 2003 Central Atlantic UCC Annual Meeting. It is reprinted with permission. Copyright (c) 2002 by Robert A. Lewis.

Editor's Note: Bob Lewis is pastor of Edinburg Charge UCC, in Edinburg, Virginia. It is no accident of Internet web searching that makes him one of Old South's most avid long-distance friends and readers. He was an associate member at Old South from 1956-1961. A native of Haverhill, Mass, he graduated from Boston University in 1960 and Andover Newton Theological School in 1964, and was ordained in 1964 by Essex North Association (Mass. Conf.). Associate member of Old South, 1956-61.  He will be a delegate to the 2003 UCC General Synod, where his new hymn, God Spoke in Ages Past, is under consideration to be sung.
 

Old South Reporter
OSC Reporter, a voice for the extended community of the Old South Church, explores the mission of the church and aspects of the Christian life through news, stories, poetry, essays, and commentaries

Communications Committee:
Evan H. Shu & Lois Harvey, co- chairs; Steve Silver, Linda Jenkins, Henry Crawford, Janet Eldred, Elizabeth England, Eleanor Jensen, Elisa Blanchard, Helen McCrady, Carl Schultz, Michael Fiorentino & Suzanne Woolston Bossert.

Deadline for next issue: June 22, 2003
 

Old South Church in Boston (Click to Return to Home Page)

Gathered 1669
A congregation of the United Church of Christ
645 Boylston Street
Boston, MA  02116
(617)536-1970
(617)536-8061 Fax
http://www.oldsouth.org

Carl F. Schultz, Interim Senior Minister
Lael P. Murphy, Associate Minister
Jennifer Mills-Knutsen, Assistant Minister
Gregory M. Peterson, Director of Music