The start of 2021 has had its challenges. I have had a sore back, (thankfully improving) car troubles, two funerals to lead, my wife had acute appendicitis followed by an operation and yesterday, I led my first Church service for the year.
Square peg effect
After the Church service I had a long nap. I had put a lot of preparation and thought into it, partly for my own edification to check that I know what I am saying. My theology does not aline with traditional creedal statements, but at the same time I try not to destroy the faith others have, so leading worship is like walking a tight rope. It was encouraging because even though we are a small group, nearly every one of the normal attenders were at Church so it felt like a full congregation. On the Saturday night I was working on the service, sorting out the power-points and the children's segment. That means that I go to bed with my mind still going over stuff, sleep doesn't come easily and wakeful periods during the night happen. After lunch on Sunday I went and had a catch up nap. It looks like I'll be busy twice a month this year like last year, but there is a person from the hierarchy of the Presbyterian Church working with the Parish Council, so it might change. The Biblical passage for the day was from Mark, when Jesus was introducing his "Kingdom of Heaven" message and calling disciples to follow him. I am still hooked on Jesus and, damn it, he's somehow still calling. Sleepless nights and Sunday naps will continue. Today, Monday, my wife and I had a cup of coffee in a hardware store. While leaving the cafe I met a progressive-thinking Baptist minister I know who had been involved in chaplaincy at one time. He of course does not fit easily into the Baptist denomination. He told me that he had given his resignation at his little church where he has a part time ministry. It is a small church but it has been doing a lot of good community work. He thinks it may mean the end of the Church there. It is sad because I recall when I was just starting Primary School at 5 years of age, watching that Church being built. I asked if we could get together for a cup of coffee. He expresses similar values and perspectives as I do and I know that as a minister, it is not always easy to find people like that. In secular NZ we have a beautiful forward thinking society but it can be a lonely journey for those of us non-conservative thinkers, who still think the way of Jesus is relevant.
"Bill" died.
I had a message from the wife of a fire fighter. She is a niece to a man I have known for well over thirty years. We'll call him "Bill". Bill had various issues. He was an alcoholic, a hoarder, and an avid gambler among other issues. I had helped him lots of times down the years and had spent a lot of time alongside of him. With my van I had helped move him from various places, because landlords did not tolerate his hoarding. The first time sadly was from his father's old cottage in a seaside village near Dunedin. He and his father had shared the cottage, but when his father died he couldn't keep up the mortgage payments so had to shift. I remember getting a load in the van. "Bill" had an old car which was unregistered and did not have a required Warrant of Fitness. He loaded it to the hilt. It was full to overflowing. He had stuff tied to the roof and boot and things sticking out of the window. I was following him into town on the motorway when a traffic-policeman passed my van and then his car. "Oh no!" I thought, "He will go for a skate. He'll get pulled over for sure!" But to my absolute surprise the police car just kept driving by! "Yeah," said "Bill", "I saw him, had me wondering, but no sweat, we survived!" like it was no big deal. He used to regularly attend our drop-in centre and he would often promise that he was going to sort himself out "next week". I actually enjoyed his company. When he was staying with a lady he had met, he fixed up her garden and fixed up a boat shed she had. I gladly used my van to cart building materials to the boat shed (secondhand stuff he had scrounged from demolition sites) and weeds away from his gardening efforts. I thought it was good that he was using his skills and time well. Unfortunately the friendship came unstuck when she discovered some of her household items for sale in a local second hand shop. I stored some of his stuff here at my house for a long time, dumping some of it when he had forgotten about them. He knew I would not give him money, but he knew I respected him and would help him in any way I could. He used to ask for me to pray with him every Christmas. He had a son who was killed in a motorbike accident one Christmas eve and his father also died I think on a boxing day. One night we were talking. "You know Dave, we're not much different you know?" "How?" I asked. "We'll we're all on a journey. Some of us are at a different place on the line, but it is basically the same journey, we all have our battles and our hassles on the way. We are all 'religious' in some way, just in a different place - 'least that's what I think anyway." He did express a gut level wisdom from time to time, born of a hard life. One night he won quite a few hundred dollars on the poky machines. He left the casino and went to a public toilet. As he stepped out of the toilet, some other "nice people" jumped him, beat him up and stole his winnings. He spent a night in hospital and bruised and beaten limped into the drop-in centre the next Friday night. Another time he decided to save money on accommodation and rented a garage for $13 a week to store his stuff. He had a couch in the garage amongst his "treasures" and that was where he slept each night. On a cold frosty night I hated dropping him off there, but it was his choice. As he got older he was installed at a rest home and found that the lack of freedom was hard going. He apparently "escaped" one day with his walker, and caught a bus to a different city hoping to stay at a Salvation Army shelter he knew there. Unfortunately he discovered that the shelter had closed some years ago and the searching police brought him back the next day. I had not seen him for some time. He was nearly blind toward the end and whenever I saw him, I stopped the car to talk with him, I had to tell him, "It's Dave Brown here!" because all he could see a blurry figure, but not the features. He apparently died in hospital after a fall. He was 82 years old. He had led a colourful and yet somehow sad life. He could have been so much more creative, but I loved him, we were friends on the journey of life. We had a some good laughs together and lots of chats. I may be involved in a little service for him though technically he was brought up a Roman Catholic. Below is a picture of him some years ago now, in a corner, resting with a cup of tea at our Friday night drop-in centre.
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