Legacy

Ministerial Meandering

Legacy

“It’s not what you take when you leave this world behind you, it’s what you leave behind you when you go.”

So goes the refrain to the country song, ‘Three Wooden Crosses,’ covered by more artists than I can think of right now.  There is a similar refrain to a very different song, which is unashamedly ‘gospel’ as well; ‘We can’t imagine the freedom we find from the things we leave behind.’  This latter song from Michael Card, a contemporary American Christian musician.

These two songs might initially seem to be looking at the same topic, but the truth is that they are poles apart.

The first describes the after-effects of a bus crash in which a farmer, a teacher, and a preacher are all killed, leaving a hooker as the only survivor.  As the verses progress, we hear the songwriter explore what each of those who didn’t survive leave behind; a harvest, a home and 80 acres - wisdom in the minds of lots of children - the love of God.

The second tells us of the joy we get when we rid ourselves of all the clutter of materialism that threatens to engulf us with the acquisitions of life.  In short, all the ‘things’ we acquire, collect, and tell ourselves that we ‘must’ have.  The message of not being bound to our material possessions is one that I preached upon this last Sunday, when we read the gospel passage about the rich man who was building bigger and bigger barns for his enormous harvest - and then suddenly died.

Unfortunately, any youngsters who take the time to read this Meandering will almost certainly not include themselves in either category, because it all sounds so much like story-telling.  But there is a reason why we have these stories - and that is because they reflect the truth of life, and have lessons to teach us.  I have seen, and had to try to save the lives of too many children and teenagers who, fuelled by excessive amounts of circulating hormones, to which they have often added ‘substances’ - be it alcohol, or other mind-influencing drugs - topped up with a ‘need for speed,’ have ended up in my Trauma Unit - often in pieces, or just plain dead.

But this Meandering is not supposed to be simply a cautionary tale for the young, but a call to all of us to consider two things.  First, just how attached are we to the things we own?  And do we really ‘own’ them at all?  Are we not just using them or borrowing them for a while, until we no longer have use for them?

Second, what is it that we are leaving behind?  A farm, wisdom, an example of faith, a respect for values, a sense of humour, musical talent, an ability to draw?  Or bitterness, meanness, hatred, a reputation for deceit and lies?  Or maybe even just an empty space - you never engaged with the world at all.

For nearly five years now I have been churning out these weekly Meanderings which I hope will serve as a form of legacy to my children and grandchildren, so that they may see, and perhaps learn a little of what their father or grandfather thought.  (Perhaps even the content of several hundreds of sermons might even be included?)

Due to the nature of my career(s) and my somewhat introverted personality, I am not inclined to write my autobiography - although it has been suggested.  Nevertheless, I would be unhappy to have the ‘silver thread of life’ cut before I had left any mark that might be regarded as some sort of testimony as to the person I was.

I would like people to know - and especially my family - that I tried to live my faith, not just talk it, however difficult that was at times.  I also would like people to know that any lack of engagement with them has not been due to a lack of love, but a result of my mental illness, particularly in these last decades.

I write - not as a valediction - but because I don’t see the way forward so clearly at the present time, and I am acutely aware that the younger members of my family  are growing up so fast, and the busy-ness of their parents.

I know this is a very personal Meandering - and I make no apology for it.  As your minister and spiritual shepherd, I feel a responsibility to make you aware of the humanity of the position I hold.  I am far from flawless.

Philip+