'till it's gone
28/07/13 05:17
There’s an old song, sung by Joni Mitchell, going through my head this morning:
They paved paradise
And put up a parking lot
With a pink hotel, a boutique
And a swinging hot Spot
Don’t it always seem to go
That you don’t know what you’ve got
‘Till it’s gone
They paved paradise
And put up a parking lot
“Don’t it always seem to go that you don’t know what you’ve got ‘till it’s gone.” The South Dakota Conference of the United Church of Christ experienced a loss on Friday. But we’re having trouble assessing its meaning.
At our annual meeting in June in Custer we elected Rev. Dr. Marc Wessels to be our next Conference Minister. The search committee was very pleased with the result of their long and difficult search for a new Conference Minister. Although we have been ably served by an interim Conference Minister for two years, and had an acting Conference Minister before that, it has been a long time since we had a called conference minister in place. We were beginning to get excited about the possibilities for mission and ministry in the South Dakota Conference when Marc arrived mid August to assume his duties.
Then the annual meeting got over and we all went back to our lives. We had Vacation Bible School and other summer activities at our church. Susan and I squeezed in two weeks of vacation. And we have all begun the first stages of planning for fall programs and activities.
Meanwhile, Marc was planning his move. It was a bit of a complex move. He has been serving as an associate Conference Minister in the Missouri-Mid South Conference, based in St. Louis, but with a child finishing high school, his wife was remaining in a previous home. With one child graduated from college and the other from high school, the couple was looking forward to re-combining households and making the move to South Dakota. The plan was for Marc to load the U-haul in St. Louis, drive to their home and re-pack things for the move. Friday, while loading the U-haul, Marc suffered a heart attack and died as doctors attempted to save his life in the emergency room.
It isn’t like we have lost a long-time friend. We didn’t really know Marc at all. Most of us had only had limited conversations with him. Without minimizing the scope of the tragedy and the depth of loss for Marc’s family and friends, what we in the South Dakota Conference have lost is a bit different than losing a friend. We have lost a particular vision of how our future might have unfolded. In a time of great transition in the church, when the very nature and existence of Conferences is being questioned, we had made the commitment to a traditional ministry with a strong pastoral presence in our Conference office. We had envisioned a minister who would travel about South Dakota providing pastoral support to our pastors and congregations, assisting with placement when congregations were seeking ministers, responding to special needs and crises, administering our office and directing our staff. We were looking forward to putting the “interim” sense behind us and getting on with the next stages of planning our mission and ministry.
Now we are back in the interim mode once again. It is not that we don’t like our interim minister. We do. We had a gathering in the Black Hills last week to say thank you and good-bye to him. It’s just that we were ready to get a bit more settled. But now is not the time to be settled.
Marc was interested in astronomy and had studied the history of the U.S. space program. He got excited when talking about the subject at our annual meeting. I was looking forward to setting up a time to take him on a night hike in the badlands, which is one of the best places on this planet for stargazing. I was anticipating the opportunity to take him for a drive around the Cheyenne River Reservation to see the Dakota Association churches and meet the people. That drive might not have actually ever occurred, as there are plenty of other people to serve as a guide to find the isolated and rural churches. But I could imagine such an adventure. I really enjoy taking “city” people into the open land in the center of South Dakota and watching their reactions as they begin to understand the size and scope and distances of reservation life.
I have been less active in Conference committees and boards in recent years, a position that I treasure, as I’m not a big fan of excessive meetings. But I was looking forward to conversations about emerging missions within our conference. The possibilities of a conference-wide mission trip, opportunities to help other congregations discover grass roots ministries like the woodchuck society and expanding our sacred conversations with our Dakota, Lakota and Nakota brothers and sisters all excite me. I was looking forward to new leadership in our conference office to open up avenues of conversation about the mission of our Conference.
But our path will be different that what we envisioned.
“Don’t it always seem to go that you don’t know what you’ve got ‘till it’s gone.”
I don’t, at my core, believe in a hierarchical church. I don’t think that faithfulness and discipleship come from the top down. I have never seen the Conference and its ministries as somehow “above” those of the local church. I don’t think that Conference Ministers are somehow more capable or more competent than those who serve local congregations. I don’t believe that there is a higher calling than that of being a pastor. In our vocation there really isn’t any ladder to climb. But some of my colleagues do see the church that way. They aspire to serve as conference ministers and then move on to calls in the church’s national setting. Frankly, most of those jobs simply don’t appeal to me.
But I do appreciate the gift of leadership when God provides it. And I am confident that God will provide the leadership that our Conference needs to move on to the next phases of our shared mission and ministry. It just isn’t going to happen in the way I imagined.
“Don’t it always seem to go that you don’t know what you’ve got ‘till it’s gone.”
Today our prayers go out to his wife, Elizabeth, in her shock and grief. And to the rest of his family and friends we send condolences and prayers. It is a day for faith and trust. For none of us know the future. We recognize that the future is and always has been in God’s hands.
They paved paradise
And put up a parking lot
With a pink hotel, a boutique
And a swinging hot Spot
Don’t it always seem to go
That you don’t know what you’ve got
‘Till it’s gone
They paved paradise
And put up a parking lot
“Don’t it always seem to go that you don’t know what you’ve got ‘till it’s gone.” The South Dakota Conference of the United Church of Christ experienced a loss on Friday. But we’re having trouble assessing its meaning.
At our annual meeting in June in Custer we elected Rev. Dr. Marc Wessels to be our next Conference Minister. The search committee was very pleased with the result of their long and difficult search for a new Conference Minister. Although we have been ably served by an interim Conference Minister for two years, and had an acting Conference Minister before that, it has been a long time since we had a called conference minister in place. We were beginning to get excited about the possibilities for mission and ministry in the South Dakota Conference when Marc arrived mid August to assume his duties.
Then the annual meeting got over and we all went back to our lives. We had Vacation Bible School and other summer activities at our church. Susan and I squeezed in two weeks of vacation. And we have all begun the first stages of planning for fall programs and activities.
Meanwhile, Marc was planning his move. It was a bit of a complex move. He has been serving as an associate Conference Minister in the Missouri-Mid South Conference, based in St. Louis, but with a child finishing high school, his wife was remaining in a previous home. With one child graduated from college and the other from high school, the couple was looking forward to re-combining households and making the move to South Dakota. The plan was for Marc to load the U-haul in St. Louis, drive to their home and re-pack things for the move. Friday, while loading the U-haul, Marc suffered a heart attack and died as doctors attempted to save his life in the emergency room.
It isn’t like we have lost a long-time friend. We didn’t really know Marc at all. Most of us had only had limited conversations with him. Without minimizing the scope of the tragedy and the depth of loss for Marc’s family and friends, what we in the South Dakota Conference have lost is a bit different than losing a friend. We have lost a particular vision of how our future might have unfolded. In a time of great transition in the church, when the very nature and existence of Conferences is being questioned, we had made the commitment to a traditional ministry with a strong pastoral presence in our Conference office. We had envisioned a minister who would travel about South Dakota providing pastoral support to our pastors and congregations, assisting with placement when congregations were seeking ministers, responding to special needs and crises, administering our office and directing our staff. We were looking forward to putting the “interim” sense behind us and getting on with the next stages of planning our mission and ministry.
Now we are back in the interim mode once again. It is not that we don’t like our interim minister. We do. We had a gathering in the Black Hills last week to say thank you and good-bye to him. It’s just that we were ready to get a bit more settled. But now is not the time to be settled.
Marc was interested in astronomy and had studied the history of the U.S. space program. He got excited when talking about the subject at our annual meeting. I was looking forward to setting up a time to take him on a night hike in the badlands, which is one of the best places on this planet for stargazing. I was anticipating the opportunity to take him for a drive around the Cheyenne River Reservation to see the Dakota Association churches and meet the people. That drive might not have actually ever occurred, as there are plenty of other people to serve as a guide to find the isolated and rural churches. But I could imagine such an adventure. I really enjoy taking “city” people into the open land in the center of South Dakota and watching their reactions as they begin to understand the size and scope and distances of reservation life.
I have been less active in Conference committees and boards in recent years, a position that I treasure, as I’m not a big fan of excessive meetings. But I was looking forward to conversations about emerging missions within our conference. The possibilities of a conference-wide mission trip, opportunities to help other congregations discover grass roots ministries like the woodchuck society and expanding our sacred conversations with our Dakota, Lakota and Nakota brothers and sisters all excite me. I was looking forward to new leadership in our conference office to open up avenues of conversation about the mission of our Conference.
But our path will be different that what we envisioned.
“Don’t it always seem to go that you don’t know what you’ve got ‘till it’s gone.”
I don’t, at my core, believe in a hierarchical church. I don’t think that faithfulness and discipleship come from the top down. I have never seen the Conference and its ministries as somehow “above” those of the local church. I don’t think that Conference Ministers are somehow more capable or more competent than those who serve local congregations. I don’t believe that there is a higher calling than that of being a pastor. In our vocation there really isn’t any ladder to climb. But some of my colleagues do see the church that way. They aspire to serve as conference ministers and then move on to calls in the church’s national setting. Frankly, most of those jobs simply don’t appeal to me.
But I do appreciate the gift of leadership when God provides it. And I am confident that God will provide the leadership that our Conference needs to move on to the next phases of our shared mission and ministry. It just isn’t going to happen in the way I imagined.
“Don’t it always seem to go that you don’t know what you’ve got ‘till it’s gone.”
Today our prayers go out to his wife, Elizabeth, in her shock and grief. And to the rest of his family and friends we send condolences and prayers. It is a day for faith and trust. For none of us know the future. We recognize that the future is and always has been in God’s hands.