The Old Dog and New Tricks

Surely by now ... age 72 tomorrow ... I qualify as the proverbial "old dog." Whether there are new tricks to be learned we shall see.

Yesterday was the first official day on the job as Interim Regional Minister (most would call it Executive Director) for the D. C. Baptist Convention. I went to the office with a few papers that had been sent me, with a flash drive filled with transferable information, and with only a general idea of what I would be doing. I did think that I would not stay all day, having told the staff ahead of time that my age and recent health circumstances might dictate shorter stays at 1628 16 St.

It was not to be. I stayed all day, and was packing up a larger stack of papers to take home when Margaret called to ask, "Where are you?" A harbinger, possibly of things to come?

But here is the discovery ... that this role will involve not so much hands-on project planning, as I did when I was a campus minister; and not so much worship and preaching projection or personal counseling, as I did when I was a pastor; and not so much filing and chasing administrative details, as I did when I was a Foundation Executive. It will be: availability, presence, vision interpretation. It will be soft enterprise much more than those hard, precise decisions and actions I am accustomed to.

Can I learn to relax and let the rest of the staff do their work? Can I create a sense of presence that will lead others to the Presence and will affirm them in their work for the Kingdom as expressed in D. C. Baptist life? And most of all, can I find within myself a passion and a joy in being a non-anxious person who will generate a positive, confident, cooperative spirit among the leaders of our churches?

That may be a new trick for this "get-it-done" person! But at this stage in my life I think I am going to relish that role. My prayer is that I may offer this to the Kingdom with a sincere heart and a joyful yet serious spirit.

We May As Well Drop the "Allegedly"

The theme of this blog all along has been the tension between seeing and engaging in new opp0rtunities for meaningful work, on the one hand, and, on the other hand, just going fully into retirement and leading a "quiet, godly, and sober life" (as the Book of Common Prayer puts it). The title of the blog, "Allegedly Retired," was intended as a way for me to poke a little fun at myself and at my propensity for taking on more and more, despite the advancing years.

I have not written anything for about three weeks now, because I knew some things were pending and that I could not mention them until they were resolved. That time has come, and the result suggests that we ought to drop the "Allegedly" out of the title. Wait, no, that's not right. We need to drop the "Retired". Or something.

A couple of weeks ago, discussions which I had been having with my pastor, Joel Hawthorne, at Montgomery Hills Baptist Church in Silver Spring, came to maturation. We mutually agreed, the deacons concurred, and the church voted that I should be called as Associate Pastor. It is an entirely voluntary position, it involves no precise hour expectations, and it entails no financial compensation. It is a way for us to validate and communicate my willingness to help with preaching, teaching, pastoral care, and the resourcing of selected lay ministries, particularly those related to finance and to evangelism. It also expresses a historic Baptist principle, that attachment to and responsibility in a local church is the most appropriate role for a Baptist minister.

And then yesterday ... oh, dear reader, you will think me strange indeed ... I accepted the offer of the Search Committee and the Personnel Committee of the District of Columbia Baptist Convention to become the Interim Regional Minister, working to provide leadership for the Convention while a process of discerning and selecting a new Executive Minister moves forward. This work could take as little as two months, but it may also take a good deal longer ... there is no way to know at this time. I begin on Feb. 1, just two days before my 72nd birthday. How odd is that?

But I have learned again what is clearly discernible throughout the postings on this blog ... that I am happiest when I am working; that there is in me a pride that is stroked by such opportunities as these, but it does not feel like an unhealthy pride (someone will tell me, I am sure, when it turns to sickness); that prayerful discernment does indeed bring people together in consensus, as I have heard of no opposition to either of these roles; that a marriage can be strengthened by this kind of work (Margaret exhibited interest in both of these tasks from the time they were first mentioned, as over against her pronouncements that I should not take any more interim pastorates). My heart is content. And I praise the Lord for whose service I was ordained 46 years ago this month.

Depression, Repression, Expression

Because I have been largely immobile lately, I have actually done what I always claimed I wanted to do ... sit and read, read entire books, lengthy books, without feeling the pressure to jump up and do this chore, that hands-on task. It's been good, and the fact that my orthopedist has now told me I can set aside the crutches has not diminished my desire to continue to read and learn.

I am only a few pages away, thanks to this circumstance, from finishing Doris Kearns Goodwin's magnum opus, The Fitzgeralds and the Kennedys. She has provided a masterful account of this nearly mythical American family, though I think her work is tainted slightly by occasional attempts at amateur psychoanalysis. She interprets Joe Kennedy pere and his never quite feeling up to par because in his early days the Boston Brahmins snubbed the Irish Catholics, as well as JFK's never quite feeling adequate because he lived in the shadow of his brother, Joe Jr., the designated golden boy.

Whether her interpretations be true ... and of course they are much more richly done than my little summary ... it is of course true that all of us are who we are in part because of our reactions to the influences around us, particularly our parents, but others as well. JFK is described as immensely frustrated and depressed because even the memory of his brother, killed in action just prior to D-Day, seemed to hold him to impossible standards, particularly in light of JFK's poor health. But Goodwin also interprets his sexual adventurousness as an expression of achieving dominance ... JFK could express power over women, countless women, and it made him feel superior.

For me, of course, there is no excuse for setting aside moral principles just to feel better. I cannot in any way excuse such behavior, no matter what the man's ego may have "needed". For alongside these descriptions of the future President's sexual adventures, Goodwin suggests that his Catholic faith was becoming more and more nominal, less and less a guiding force. He had doubts ... nothing wrong with that ... and considered abandoning the church ... understandable ... but settled for a nominal, surface observance. In other words, he repressed a rich source for feeling accepted, valued, confident, and guided.

That story, sad to say, is repeated countless times. I am afraid that there are millions of nominal church members in all denominations for whom faith was never more than a set of doctrines and a list of observances. And so when life provided challenges or temptations, that sort of faith was inadequate or even irrelevant. What JFK needed, what all of us need, is a vital, personal, heart-felt, daily (dare I say hourly, ongoingly?) relationship with Christ. He must be for us friend and brother, not simply a righteous judge. He must be "nearer than breathing, closer than hands and feet", or else we will sink into depression, struggle with repression, and yield to acting-out expression. Neither dogma nor ecclesiastical authority will be enough to guide us; only the hand of the Master in our hands to guide, comfort, steady, and steer.