Which verse should I choose 9.9.09

Amy Tolleson September 9, 2009 1Confessions Which verse should I choose? Thats always how I start this process. It has always been an easy one for me to do. After I pick the verse upon which I can base my sermon then I can always just seem to miraculously find the lesson in it. Tonight, though, on the eve of my final sermon before I step down, I find myself grappling with what message I should leave my congregation. After my thirty years of giving out sermon after sermon, sometimes I doubt if the people I write these things for ever really grasp what Im trying to say. Maybe thats why my pen hovers above the blank pages on my desk. I know to some extent from observation what is going on in the lives of the people who come to hear me speak. I see them from my pulpit, the sea of men in suits and ties just as I see the conservatively dressed women too. I always find myself wondering what they wear when they dont think God is watching them. I wonder such things when the youth minister announces the upcoming Sunday School play or when my soon-to-be successor talks enthusiastically about the donuts available following the service for those new members. I watch them all while the choir sings. I see the couple from last week, sitting farther apart, no longer sharing the same hymnal. Collected voices could be singing while this pair in particular looks anything but that. Or how about the young woman who flashes her smile almost as much as the pretty new diamond ring on her left hand? Her eyes are searching the crowd for people to react rather than focusing on the verses to be sung. Peoples lives change from week to week and I notice without anyone having to come confess to me. Amy Tolleson September 9, 2009 2The only ones that seem to sit before me as themselves are the children. The matching siblings, sporting pouts on their faces as they are all reacting in unison to the itch that comes complimentary with the nice clothes forced upon them. I never fail to notice how they squirm and scratch until silenced by their mothers stern expression. Children always let me know that they dont want to be there. It doesnt hurt my feelings, in fact, I praise them for being so honest. This kind of honesty is one I receive from no one else other than the elderly who have accidentally fallen asleep. Those older men and women are the ones who actually want to be there, but still miss the message. So who actually ever hears it? Who walks away with it? Now I dont know my whole congregation, and I am most likely wrong that other people dont want to hear what I have to say. However, each face I look at makes me ask myself what brought them to church that day. Perhaps some show up out of requirement from a spouse who drags them there each week. Maybe they sit before me out a of force of habit, having gone to church all of their lives. Or it could be the opposite for many, walking in at random one week out of obligation because they didnt go to church all of their lives and feel as if they have a debt to pay. Thirty years ago when I began this job, I feared the idea of people coming to confess to me or anything, but some always made their way into my office to share with me things I would rather not know. Its not because I didnt care; I kind of put all of them on a pulpit too. For me, just knowing that these people continued to make bad choices made me feel as if I had delivered them bad sermons; this was something that I now know is not the case. It is in our nature to sin, and I am no exception to the rule. Amy Tolleson September 9, 2009 3It is still difficult to look down at what will be my last sermon once some ink spreads itself across the blank paper in front of me. Here I am talking about honesty, and I wonder what would happen if I ever delivered all of these thoughts I have now to my congregation. I expect that would not go well, telling them what I really felt at times. No one likes to be insulted and if I told the truth thats what I would be doing to the ones in between the young and the old. What has thirty years taught me? Maybe its that possibly that to tell the truth (in any sense) while staring at the many faces who come regularly (or maybe not that often) is like going back in time to when the ministers would use the scare tactic of to make people realize the importance of the words that are spoken in this holy place. I dont want to scare people. Life does that enough on a daily basis for all of us, and Im not one to want to rub salt in the wound I know that tomorrow will be a bittersweet goodbye. I have spent many Sundays with many members of my congregation, and I find it funny sometimes to see the changes that each generation exudes as I grow older and they grow up. I care about those who come to fill the church, and I know at least some of them feel that way about me. They come to greet me after the service is over to tell me how much they enjoyed what I said that particular day. One time, a young college student approached me to tell me, I am your biggest fan! I will never forget that girl because she made me feel famous for a moment. As much as I do care for those who make up my congregation, I must own up to the fact that I judge them too; I, like any other person, tend to assume things that may not be accurate. That says a lot about me I guess. At times, I think that maybe the pulpit is Amy Tolleson September 9, 2009 4supposed to be left empty, like the page before me that should hold the notes of my final sermon. No one in this world is perfect enough to fill that podium, but still so many of us do. And tomorrow, when I step down, I will look at my former post in that way, because I will not have told those who came to hear me what I have learned to be most important in all my years up there. My young replacement, he is nervous as I was when I was at his age when it came time for me to first walk up those steps and face the crowd. The many faces used to scare me, but now I feel they have taught me more than I have possibly even tried to teach them myself. I have seen lives change, for good and for better, or in the opposite directionand mine has changed as a result of that. I could tell a truth that may help, but one I cannot bring myself to say. How can I tell the people who have come to learn from me that I have actually learned from them? What faith does that give them? I have always pondered these questions, but the answers will forever escape me. Perhaps the one who fills my shoes will be able to do what I have not. So which verse should I choose to work with? Which one will I walk away with feeling like my time here has been worthwhile? You tell me. Joyful, Joyfulrealhell