CHRIST IN WINTER: The
Irrelevant Reminiscences of An Old Preacher—
Going through old files… A letter from Loyd Bates, Methodist campus minister at Indiana University during my undergrad years, sent to me in the summer of 1958, before my senior year, at Howell Neighborhood House in Chicago, where I was a social worker for the summer: Loyd writes, “At 8:45 this morning, I was eating a donut at the ministerial meeting when FT Johnson sat down beside me. “You think John McFarland could work for you this next year?” he said. “That’s a good idea,” I said. Then F.T. said, “Think you could pay him something?” “Well, I could work on that,” I said. “Good,” FT said. “He needs money.”
Obviously, I have seen that letter before, but I had totally forgotten it. I have not forgotten FT, though, nor his constant kindness to this raw recruit to the ministry.
He was the Superintendent of The Bloomington District during my college years. According to Dallas Browning, the Superintendent of The Evansville District, FT “stole” me from him in December of my sophomore year, to appoint me to the Solsberry-Koleen-Mineral circuit, after Dr. Browning had appointed me to the Chrisney-Crossroads-Bloomfeld circuit in September, before I was at all sure that I ever wanted to be a preacher, especially right then. It was a good deal for me. Chrisney was 100 miles from Bloomington, but Solsberry only 15. I think the pay was a little better, too.
In those days, a District Superintendent [DS] was the ruler of a church fiefdom. A geographical area, designated by the city where the DS lived, as in “The Bloomington District.” About 70 churches, with a similar number of preachers. Technically, it was the bishop who appointed each of us to our churches, but at the young-preacher, small-church level, the bishop just rubber stamped what the DS did. So DSs were feared. If you got on the wrong side of yours, he might appoint you to the dreaded Raccoon Circuit.
Whenever we were together, young preachers would tell DS jokes, and talk about how to keep the DS from finding out about our mistakes. We made up song and poem parodies, even, like I went through life with easy grace ‘til I met my DS face to face.
That was particularly true of FT Johnson and his wife, Marie. In general, the preachers of our District, and the whole Conference, felt that FT was not up to the job, a bit of a muddled buffoon, that he should still be out in the hinterlands, worrying about his own appointment, instead of being in charge of the appointments of others.
Marie was secretly ridiculed as a social climber. I think she was just innocent. She did not know how to dissemble. Or even realized that she was supposed to. I am still embarrassed when I recall something she said at a District meeting of the preachers and wives. “You young people just need to work hard. People used to make fun of us. Said FT wasn’t going to amount to anything. But we just kept working, and look at us now. We’ve made it.” I put my head down so I could not see the smirks and eye rolls.
Other folks didn’t understand why Bishop Raines appointed FT to be a DS. I did. FT and Marie were exactly as Marie said, folks who worked hard and wanted to do their job well. I did not fear that FT might appoint me to Raccoon as a punishment for my sins. I knew they would take care of me, even when I messed up. They referred to me as “Our son, John.”
Maybe they saw me as an obvious extension of themselves, a boy who didn’t amount to much but was willing to work hard. Whatever was the reason he was so good to me, I am eternally grateful to FT Johnson, who was looking out for me before I even knew I needed the help.
Through the years, I’ve had several highly competent and widely respected DSs. I appreciated them. Whenever I thought about being a DS myself, though, it was always FT Johnson I wanted to emulate.
John Robert McFarland
The photo is of the Mineral church.
No comments:
Post a Comment