CHRIST IN WINTER:
Reflections on Faith from a Place of Winter for the Years of Winter… ©
[The 2nd of a
two-part series.]
Ira Galloway and I rarely
agreed on anything, but we respected each other, because each of us had a
radical commitment to Christ.
When I founded SADMOB, I
figured Ira would not come. He was already senior pastor of the largest church in
our conference, several thousand members. Before Peoria First Church, he had
been a bureaucrat in the high reaches of the denomination. What did he have to
learn from the likes of me?
But I invited him. And he
came. Every time. When it was his turn to lead, to tell how he did a particular
area of ministry in his congregation, he presented his work humbly, and
listened to comments and criticisms carefully and appreciatively. When others
presented, he listened just as carefully and made thoughtful comments. There
was no sense that he considered himself better than anyone else just because he
served the largest church and had the longest resume`. He acted like we were
all equals in learning from one another. Often people in high places are lonely
there and hunger for fellowship.
As we got to know each
other in SADMOB, Ira became one of my major supporters. Even though we were
miles apart on almost all social and theological issues, he respected my
approach and my commitment. He felt I was underemployed, that I should be
serving a much larger church, and lobbied to that end. He rarely missed a
chance to praise me to our colleagues.
As he was coming close to
retirement as a pastor, he helped to found The Institute for Religion and
Democracy. Unfortunately, it moved very quickly to become a justifier of using
any draconian measure against anyone deemed an enemy of the US, especially if
someone referred to them as communist. No dictator was too brutal, even in the atrocities
they committed against Christians in their own countries, including Noriega and
Pinochet and Marcos, if he claimed to be anti-communist and pro-American.
Ira became shrill and
narrow. He was sad, without the mob of colleagues, including people like I, who
disagreed with him and were willing to say so, to serve as a balance.
How I like to remember Ira
is as he was in SADMOB, and how he was when I preached at annual conference, a
gathering of a thousand or so souls to do the annual work and worship of the
several hundred churches in the lower 2/3 of Illinois. He was always surrounded
and followed by a group of young conservative pastors who vied for his
attention and approval. Immediately after the service in which I had preached,
I was walking down a hallway. Ira was standing in the hallway, surrounded by
his acolytes. They did not see me approach. As I neared, I realized that they
were discussing my sermon. “But he’s just a story-teller,” one young man said.
Ira smiled. “Exactly,” he said. “Exactly.”
Ira knew we were in the
same story, and we were both tellers of it. I regret so much that he narrowed
that story so much in his later years, willing to leave so many folks out of
it, but I’ll always appreciate his support. You don’t have to agree with folks
to appreciate and love them. And it is okay to oppose them, even if you
appreciate and love them. We’re still in the same story.
Ira has gone to his
reward, as we say. I still pray for him. I hope he is still lobbying for a
better appointment for me.
John
Robert McFarland
johnrobertmcfarland@gmail.com
The
“place of winter” mentioned in the title line is Iron Mountain, in Michigan’s
Upper Peninsula [The UP], where life is defined by winter even in the summer!
[This phrase is explained in the post for March 20, 2014.]
I
tweet as yooper1721.
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