Father Tom’s Retirement Sermon from April 20, 2008; with an addendum:

The rector had announced his retirement and was saying goodbye to the congregation at the back of the church for the final time. He shook hands with the most senior member of the congregation as she was leaving. She said, “Your successor won’t be as good as you.”

“Oh, nonsense,” said the retiring rector, in a bit of a flattered tone.

“No, really,” said the elderly woman, “I’ve been here under the leadership of six rectors and each new one has been worse than the last!”

(No, that was not Nina Jarvis or Eileen Beckman.)

I don’t know how many of you remember January 1999? That first Sunday in January was to have been my first time celebrating and preaching as the rector of St. John’s. That Saturday afternoon and evening Bedford experienced a severe ice storm. The roads and parking lot were covered, with little chance of melting. It was decided by the wardens that it would be too dangerous to attempt morning services at St. John’s. The Senior Warden, who shall remain nameless, but his initials are Jim Vest, said, “Well done. You’ve been here less than a week and already closed the church!” I think we’ve had to close only one other time since then and I was at Diocesan Council, so it was the Bishop’s fault.

I know in many ways I am living a charmed life. I have been blessed beyond measure to have been a part of a noble vocation called the ordained ministry and to have served in loving and supportive congregations. I cannot imagine having done anything else in my life. I have been loved unconditionally by my family, many of whom are here today. Brother Larry, Sister Sue, nephew Mark, niece Angie, niece Beth, grand-nieces Britney and Rebecca are here and will be joining daughter Molly and me in a moment as the Mustard Family Singers. Sister-in-law Marilyn, niece Kathy, nephew Keith, niece Meredith, grand-niece Faith, and grandniece Taylor Marie are also with us. Brother Eddie and Sister Gayle, who have passed from time to eternity, and brother Randy who is recuperating from major surgery; daughters Michele and Molly, sonsin-law Ken and Mike, both of whom have earned MBA’s, grandsons Zack and Brian (and Peanut on the way); granddaughter Sarah, here in spirit, but physically finishing a paper at UNC; Mike’s parents, Jim and Ceci McAuliffe; Shirley’s cousin Ellen and husband Doug; dear friends from our newly-wed days, Richard and Carolyn Alford, and probably some I’ve overlooked, all have been pulling for me.

 Most of all, I have been partnered for about 45 years with an incredible woman named Shirley. We have worked as a team and her overriding task has been to help me look like I knew what I was doing. It wasn’t easy and I tried my darnedest to mess it up. She stuck with it. You will understand perfectly when I say that because of all the things she is, I am what I am. I don’t know that I’ve ever told her that she is my hero. We look forward to continuing our teamwork.

 People have asked me what I will remember most about this work. I don’t have an easy answer. The priesthood allows the ordained to be with people in moments of profound joy and deepest sorrow. I have been invited to be present in times of passage that are part of our human existence. Weddings, births, baptisms, confirmations, and burials; promotions, raises, graduations, and job-loss; new houses, new jobs, moments of reconciliation, and times of estrangement; I will remember all of those. But, I suspect the dominant memory for me will be hands.

 It has been my privilege over the years to look down into thousands of hands; all reaching out to life. Large masculine hands, with broad fingers, and some with well-earned calluses and greased-stained creases; thin feminine hands, with narrow fingers and polished nails; misshapen hands due to accident or illness, some with missing fingers; dry, chapped hands and oily, sweaty ones; small, delicate hands, some so little the wafer barely would fit. Hands that understand the sacrifice that was necessary for us to be fed are the all-embracing hands. Those hands, those wrists, of course, bear the scars of an obedient death and his scars help us recognize him. We gather in this place and on this day because his hands are large enough to invite us all and to hold us all. I will remember hands.

 That’s what he was trying to tell them in today’s Gospel. “Do not let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God, believe also in me.” He tells them about going on to prepare a place for them. They had been told the way, but Thomas, the one whose name I have carried for 64 years, says he doesn’t remember where the rabbi is going and he’s lost and can’t find his way. Jesus simply says, “Thomas, I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.”

 Thirty years ago the Rev. Bruton Strange charged me in his sermon at my ordination to preach the Gospel. I made a commitment to do that to the best of my ability. I don’t know how well I have succeeded. It is probably best that I don’t worry too much about that. My own definition of success changed during these thirty years. For the most part I have been where I was supposed to be and tried to bring something of the representative person I was supposed to be when I showed up. God does not have the same definition of success as we do. God asks us to be faithful to the call. I’ve tried to do that.

 You are such good people. I trust you to continue to take good care of yourselves and each other. Remember that Jesus said that those who believe in him will also do the works that he himself did and, in fact, would do even greater works than the ones he did. We share that kind of faith. Mustard seed, mountain-moving faith can change all manner of things. Keep the faith. It will be powerful stuff as you move into the next phase of your corporate life.

 So, it ultimately doesn’t really matter who the representative up-front person is or how good he or she is. It doesn’t really matter that an occasional ice storm might close a given Sunday service. The one who brings us together and binds us together has said that keeping the faith builds a church against which the gates of hell would not prevail.

 From the bottom of my heart I thank each one of you for your love and support. No doubt, we will meet from time to time as “we trudge this road of happy destiny” together. Amen.

Addendum:

 Some of you have asked for a copy of the sermon I delivered on April 20th. I decided to use it as the beginning of an effort to thank you for your overwhelming love and generosity. The planning, dedication, commitment, and service were exceptional and stunning. I do not need to tell you that Shirley and I were surprised by the numerous gifts and speechless to express our thanks for such an outpouring of love and appreciation.

 Our family members and visitors wanted us to convey their appreciation for the warm welcome extended to each of them. Someone said that “St. John’s certainly does not qualify as part of God’s ‘frozen people!’” For that I am deeply grateful.

 Please know how deeply moved we were by your genuine expressions of affection and love. You made it easy from the very beginning to feel a part of a special community of faith and you joined us in welcoming new members during these nine years. As I said in the sermon, “You are such good people.” I am more convinced than ever that the best days for the congregation of St. John’s are on the way.

Tom