As always, I came early. I was not secure in my abilities within my role, but I had my opinions, and was able to put on a brave face. When I arrived at church, a bearded man in a corduroy blazer, a Roman collar and a soft voice, came out of the sanctuary to greet me. He had been there for a while, he said, wanting to get a feel for the place.
We shook hands, and spoke for a very few minutes before going into the interview meeting. Our committee told about how our congregation had been through rough times, and were looking for a pastor who could unite, heal and lead us. He was soft spoken, and answered all our questions systematically and honestly. I believe this systematic honesty came from his basic goodness mixed with his academic background as an engineer.
Sometimes, congregations need an engineer at the helm. He was that. The antithesis of a smooth politician, he told it as he saw it. He was gruff, raw, and real. I loved him from the get-go.
He was hired, to mixed reviews, but he became one of my best friends and closest allies. He presided over the confirmations of all three of my daughters, and the wedding of my niece. He made an annual trek to the local animal shelter in full robed regalia to bless all the dogs waiting for adoption. He visited my father and brother in the hospital before each passed away even though they were not part of his congregation, never speaking about these visits to me. He listened when I came to him with personal problems, came to see me unannounced on his bicycle, carrying homemade yogurt, just to sit and chat. His brusque demeanor was antithesis to some, but it suited me fine.
He is retired now, living a lovely rural life, growing tomatoes and making himself available for the occasional pastoral duties.
If ever there was a man I trusted, it was him. Thank you pastor.
