You've Got a Friend

Spirit cloud looking down on me as I walk the labrynth

 The name Walter H. Beckwith won't mean anything to any of you, but it means a great deal to me. He was the man who is responsible for me even thinking about becoming a minister. For some reason, I'm thinking of him today and remembering what a strong, positive influence he had on my life.

He was appointed the pastor of the Medford [United] Methodist Church when I was 14 years old. He was a recent seminary graduate and was finishing up his probationary status in the Southern New Jersey Annual Conference. He was then about 25 years old as best as I can remember and was filled with youthful vitality.

Up until his arrival on the local church scene, I had the impression that all ministers were old and always dressed in dark suits, and that church in general was for old people. Even so, I was fairly active in the Methodist Youth Fellowship of which, by default, I was elected president (no one else was interested in the job). 

With his arrival, suddenly there was a surge in attendance at youth group meetings and it became one of the best things that had ever happened to me. We met every Sunday at 6:30 p.m. and then if we stayed for Evening Service at 7:30, we could go to the party afterward. We would go to someone's house each week and play games and have snacks. Once a month we would have a special event like going bowling, having a campfire with hot dogs and smores, going on a hayride, or at Halloween we would put a float in the parade.

He really knew how to get kids excited about church and still have fun in their lives. It changed everything for me in the way I saw religion. Then one night when he dropped me off at my house, he told me that he thought I would be a great asset to the ministry. Me? Really?  I went in the house and told my mother and she said that I shouldn't get too caught up with that idea because no one in our family goes to college...we don't have that kind of money. So I learned not to say anything more about that to her, but I had a feeling that maybe that's what I was supposed to be. 

Without going into further detail, unless you think you might interested in the longer story sometime (no obligation there), the rest, as they say, is history.  By the way, my parents were very proud and pleased as they witnessed my graduation from Princeton Seminary in the Princeton University Chapel and my ordination at St. Peter's Church in Ocean City, NJ. Also, by the way, my father died 3 months later, and when we were cleaning out his things, I found a copy of a hymn on his nightstand that was sung as an anthem at my ordination: "Our Times Are in Thy Hands."

And no truer words were spoken--our times are in God's hands. But as we make these life journeys, we don't travel alone and we don't become who we are alone either. Here and there significant people have spoken a word or a phrase or a whole paragraph that has set us on the path we're meant to go. It might be a parent, a neighbor, a friend, a child, a teacher, a relative or any one of a hundred other possibilities. But one of those at the top of my list is the Rev. Walter H. Beckwith. He died a few years back, but I was able to speak with him before that and to thank  him for his role in my life.

                        From left to right: Chris, Kevin Kemp, Ellie, my sister Betty Lou and Gary. 

 

Thoughts On A Rainy Day

     I’ve been thinking lately about the meaning of life and the meaning of my life in particular. Do you ever do that?

     I realize that that’s an age-old truth that some of the greatest minds in history have endeavored to uncover. Theologians, philosophers, and poets have all come up with various interpretations…even the meager likes of us preachers have presumed to give some answers to questioning minds. One hopes that those who have listened to us have been discerning enough to dismiss some of our ranting and raving about what a sorry lot we human beings are and the awful state the world is in.

      Is there one single meaning that universally applies to every life? Also, what do we mean by “meaning?”

     To my surprise many of the things I was told as a young man and many of the things I believed in no longer seem either true or relevant to the way things really are—not everything, but many. I don’t know if that means I’ve gotten older and wiser or just older. I would love to believe that it is the former—older and wiser. But, of course, that depends a great deal on the definition of “wiser.”

     Those of us who are clergy have a tendency to think that our Sunday morning words are the truth and nothing but the truth, so help us God. But I can’t tell you how many times after a sermon that I have wanted to slip quietly away during the final hymn of the service, realizing the inadequacy of what I just proclaimed to be the meaning of a particular passage of Scripture and thereby a segment of the meaning of life itself.

     If indeed I am older and wiser, the wisdom I have come to is this: God has given us the gift of life to decide for ourselves what the meaning is. For some it is about earning proper credits for the next life; for some it is fame and fortune; for some it is making this world a better place for all people; for some it is finding the way to true happiness (that’s what the Dalai Lama says it is); for some it is all about living out the work ethic; for some it is being nice (which a friend of mine said is the simple definition of being Christian); for some it is learning and growing; for some it is art or music. I could go on and list several other options, but I’m sure you get the idea.

     On this somewhat gentle rainy day, the meaning of life, at least to me at the moment is to be thankful. Come to think of it, maybe that’s the meaning everyday and all the rest is living with an open mind and heart for whatever may come my way. John Lennon said: "Life is what happens to you while you're making other plans."