BEING WHO YOU WERE [T, 2-7-23]

CHRIST IN WINTER: Reflections on Faith & Life for the Years of Winter--BEING WHO YOU WERE [T, 2-7-23]

 

When you are young, like under 80, it is important to learn who you are, and accept that. When you are older, it is important to learn who you were, and accept that.

As I look back over my life, as old people are supposed to do--to come to grips with our own reality, come to acceptance of who we really were—I can’t come up with one word. It takes three—challenger, advocate, and creator.

 

Challenger: I was not a contrarian or gadfly. I did not like conflict. I was quite willing to accept established truth, if it seemed to work for everybody. But I challenged accepted forms that discriminated against excluded people.

Advocate: So, I was an advocate for people who needed help in challenging the ways of the powerful. Through the years those included ethnics, students, addicts, Jews, displaced, the hungry, the homeless, draftees, pregnant women, refugees, handicapped folks, LGBTQ+…

Creator: Sometimes, you challenge and get no response except resistance. Often you advocate but get no change. That’s when I became a creator. I mean simply going ahead, ignoring those who won’t change, and trying to get stuff done, creating whole new systems if necessary. [1]

I’m sure my motives were always mixed, that I wanted things that worked best for me and mine, as well as my conscious goal of simply doing more effective ministry, of helping the world to be its best self. Helen and I have both noted that everybody in our respective professions proclaimed as best the method with which they felt most comfortable.

That’s the way things are. That’s why we aren’t all alike, as ministers or teachers… or people. [2] Not everybody needs to be a challenger. Not everyone needs to be a vocal advocate. Not everyone has to create. But those were my gifts, and I’m glad I got to use them. Using them when I could is what brings me peace and satisfaction, now that I’m past the point of challenging and…  [Oh, that is so pathetic. I can’t figure out how to end this without making it sound like some pitiful attempt at self-justification. Just ignore this entire column!]

John Robert McFarland

1] Examples of “creating:”

When I was campus minister in Terre Haute [Indiana State U and Rose Polytechnic-now Rose Hulman] I created a program for college students to tutor ghetto kids. I got into trouble with colleagues and administrators because they wanted to “study the problem.” I just went ahead and asked kids to be tutors. Over a hundred showed up.

When the community center there proved inadequate, INSU prof Andre’ Hammonds and I got a bunch of people together and built a new one. Didn’t study. Didn’t ask. Just did it.

            When church sociologist Lyle Schaller pointed out in the 1980s that the large downtown churches were failing despite their importance, and no one was doing anything about it, I created an organization for the pastors of those churches to share ideas and support. SADMOB [Senior And Directing Ministers Of Bigchurches] Just sent a letter and invited them. No officers, no organization. Every one of them came, every time, despite busy schedules. They were lonely and eager for sharing and support.

2] Terry Clark succeeded me as senior pastor at Wesley UMC in Charleston, IL. He always gave me credit for the new sanctuary, even though it was built during his pastorate. Here’s why:

While I was still pastor there, Leonard Archer dropped by my office one afternoon and said he’d like to contribute $250,000 [in today's dollars] to start the fund for the new sanctuary, which was part of the original plan but had to wait until we got the rest of the building paid for. I said, “Okay, Leonard.” That was my contribution.

If I were still pastor there, we’d still be worshipping in the fellowship hall. Good worship, but not in the new sanctuary. Terry was not renowned as a worship leader, but he was willing to do the heavy lifting on that building. He hadn’t been there but two or three years before he had that building up.

It took the two of us together—hours and hours of meetings and fund raising and frustrations by Terry, and me saying “yes” to Leonard that day.