The Last Day

Today was my last day as pastor of Faith United Presbyterian Church, where I have served for ten years. My first Sunday was February 5, 1995, when I was in my 30's. Do the math correctly, and I am now in my 40's. Ten years is a long time.

I had no idea what to expect. I knew that we would do some singing, as I was part of the worship team that included guitar (me), bass (Mark), piano (Sandy), and drums (Dave). My daughter, Rachel, also sang with us. Our small congregation was joined by the local Filipino congregation, and so the singing was richer and fuller and louder than it might normally be. It was inspiring.

During our prayer time, there were tributes from pastor Manny, pastor Steve, and my Executive Presbyter, Tom. Each of them had some very nice things to say about me and the influence I have had on them. It was a strange experience, really. I found myself wondering who they were talking about. It could be my midwestern "modesty" genes kicking in. As a kid, in class elections, it was drummed into us never to vote for yourself. I knew I had done many of the things they described. But I did not know either the affect or the effect it had on them. I was touched.

After these things were said, the elders and pastors gathered around and prayed for me. I was touched by their concern, and their heartfelt love for me. But I still felt unworthy.

Strange. why the trouble accepting people's love and affection for me? Granted, it is not always spoken or shown. And yet, part of me holds back. Something to converse to a counselor about.

After worship was over, there was a, what else, potluck. We had lots of food, some of my favorite food, too. When the food was mostly gone, there were more things presented to me, and my family. Some cards. Some gifts. Some words of thanks. It was hard to believe that I was actually leaving this place!

Former intern, Jan, and current intern, Niki, were marvellous. They did a superb job at organizing the farewell, even as they lose a mentor. Isabel came all the way from Arizona just to attend. She had been a member of the church since 1924! Ann came all the way from the OC to attend. It was wonderful to see them.

Before eating, I found my son in my office, shedding a tear or two. Or maybe, given the Stochl family rule that men don't cry, it was allergies. I think he was tired, as he had been to the Winter Formal the night before, and gotten home at 1:00 a.m. But I was moved that my leaving would affect my son so much. We have not talked much about my leaving, but we have talked it over as a family. Change is hard. And I regret the pain that I am causing the church, and my own family. But I think this change will be good. Still, I have a deeper appreciation today for my wife and son and daughter, even if rooms are not clean and the dishwasher is not emptied. They have been wonderful.

So, ten years of work. I have a day or two back at the office to clean up, and tidy up some loose ends. I am grateful for the opportunity to serve at Faith United. I learned much. I made many mistakes. I did some things right. And I grew to love the people, though I showed it more through actions than through words. I am trying to savor te moment, and leave questions about future calls unanswered right now. God knows where I will wind up. My fear says I will not wind up anywhere, that my usefulness is at an end. My faith says, there is a place for me, and fruitful ministry still ahead. But I will not try to answer these just yet. An emotional day, and a celebratory day. I think my tenure at Faith ended on a good note.

Tomorrow, I am speaking at the Presbyterian chapel at Fuller Seminary. I hope to speak about the spiritual discipline of service, and also about serving in the presbytery. Riveting!

Now and Then

A year ago, I sat with my mom and her husband, Kel, in their home in Aptos, California. She had just been diagnosed with massive lung cancer, and a brain tumor. They were drinking wine, as they had just come back from the doctor with the official diagnosis. I had driven up from Los Angeles, "to visit a former intern." (So, I fibbed a little. I was there to see mom, but she would not have been happy that I drove "all that way" just to see her.)

My mom had had a rough few years. She had undergone surgery on 9/10/01 to increase blood flow to her legs. On 9/11/01, she had gone back into surgery to amputate her left leg, which did not respond to the original surgery. I was driving north from Los Angeles, (a familiar trip), when I heard about the planes crashing into the Twin Towers. I have multiple reasons to remember 9/11.

My mom recovered, and was walking and driving again. She was playing bridge with her beloved bridge club. She and Kel took a cruise together. Everything was looking up. And then this.

While sitting with mom and Kel, Kel related this anecdote to me. He said, "You know, these past two and a half years have been the worst of our life together. But they have also been the best." Taken aback by the musings of an unsentimental man, I asked the natural, "What do you mean?" Kel replied, "Before your mother's surgery, we would be at opposite ends of the house. I'd be in my office diddling with financial things, your mother would be at her computer or in the garden in in the kitchen. Since your mother's surgery, I we have spent a lot of time together, and we have had to talk. And we have grown closer, and it has been beautiful."

Kel had insisted that my mom recover at home. So after some transitional care, she came home. Around the house, Kel took out bathroom doors, and made a ramp for my mom. He also learned to change her bandages, give her a bath or shower, change her clothes, get her downstairs into the car to go to the doctor, get her up out of bed and to the bathroom, etc. He had become a servant. And he had discovered the joys of being a servant. And my admiration and respect for him grew as I watched him do this for my mom.

Well, several weeks later, she complained of massive stomach pains. Admitted to the hospital, it was determined that she had a "leak" in her abdominal cavity. The doctors were unsure where it was coming from. Exploratory surgery was ruled out of the question. The surgery itself might kill her. And then if she recovered, she would be faced with inoperable lung cancer and a brain tumor. So, my dear mom, only 72, was put on a pain relief protocol. She was given morphine, and waited to die.

She eventually passed away on March 7th. My brother, Dave, and I had been with her most of the previous week. We were expecting her to go at any minute. But she lingered. She drifted in and out of sleep. We told stories. We laughed. We shed a tear or two. We watched. We prayed. I left for Los Angeles on a Thursday. Mom died on Sunday. The bravest woman I have ever known.

I mention that now, since it is an anniversary of sorts. She was diagnosed a year ago. I also mention it because I am facing more unknown. I have resigned from my pastoral position, and Sunday is my last Sunday at Faith United Presbyterian Church in Los Angeles. I have been at Faith United for ten years, part-time. That is, I was paid part-time. There is no such thing as part-time pastoral work!

Why am I resigning? Two reasons, really. The first is for the benefit of the church. I have helped the church deal with a great many issues. But I am unable to take them to the next step in their growth. Some look at Faith United and say, "Why bother? Close it down." But I remain hopeful and confident that this once 2000-member congregation can again flourish in its witness for Jesus Christ. But I will not be there for the turnaround. The congregation needs new vision, new energy, and a new voice. While I love the people at Faith United, I must leave.

The second reason is personal. I am tired. Some might say I am burned out. And perhaps I am. I have enjoyed being the pastor at Faith United, but the tasks have consumed me. Preaching has been a joy. Relating to people has been wonderful. But the administrative load has taken a toll. We completed, in late 2002, a $750,000 seismic retrofit of the building, ordered by the City of Los Angeles, paid for by us. (Loans, mostly!) And there are several congregations renting space from us, and several neighborhood groups. So there are constant demands for plumbing and electrical repairs.

I must confess that I have liked administration more than I had feared. My only worry in seminary was whether I could do the administration. It appears that I can. The down side is that I have not taken very good care of myself. I have not been in a pastoral accountability group, though weekly praying with pastors Manny and Steve has helped. My sermons have been directed and what the Lord might be saying to the congregation, while not listening very closely to what the Lord is saying to me. And so, I have cut myself off from the Vine more than I would care to admit.

And I think the death of my mom has raised issues I was already struggling with. I am not getting any younger. I am not satisfied with this part of my life. I am seeing very little fruit from my labors. And so, I am resigning to do some self-care. Doing some reading, getting some counseling, perhaps taking a class or two, working on the house, and getting some things done that I have been too busy to do. I have not been living a balanced life, and I have lost myself in the process. Thank God for a loving family, who have put up with my quirks and failings.

I am not sure of the outcome of all this. I am not leaving directly to another church. We'd like to stay in South Pasadena. Our house is here. The kids' school is here. This is home. Like Abraham, I am called to trust God for the future. "Go to a land that I will show you," the Lord tells Abraham. (Then known as Abram.)

I am not sure how Abraham heard that word, but he started walking. Me? I like to know where I am going, the rest stops along the way, what restaurants to eat in, everything! Ah, the life of faith is full of adventure, but trusting God comes hard. At least for me.

So, the church is planning a potluck (what else?) for me on Sunday. I cannot see past Sunday, really. My office books are packed away, awaiting transportation home. There are administrative details to work out yet at church. There are people to say goodbye to. And then? We will see! I will certainly try to keep the blog up to date on the close of this chapter, and the opening of the new chapter.

So, a year ago, one life was ending. Now, a chapter in a career is ending. I learned much from my mom. Among the pertinent lessons: be grateful for the time you have, and just keep plugging away. Good things will happen.

I miss you, mom. And I will miss the people of Faith United. But I embrace the opportunities ahead.

Incredible Story and Picture

An AP story out this morning tells of tsunami survivor Acehnese Rizal Shahputra, who was rescued 100 miles out to sea. The caption of the picture says:

tsunami survivor Acehnese Rizal Shahputra stands on the tree branches and
waves to a cargo ship after being spotted by the crew of a container vessel
in the Indian Ocean, 100 nautical miles (160 kilometers) from the shores of
Aceh province Monday, Jan. 3, 2005. The Indonesian man swept off shore by
last week's tsunami was found afloat on tree branches and debris, the second
person to be found alive at sea by Malaysian ships days after the disaster,
officials said Tuesday.

This is an amazing story, a guy swept out to sea by the tsunami, and he kept alive for a week floating on branches and debris. Looking forward to hearing more on this fellow's story.

Happy New Year

As I awoke this morning in South Pasadena, I was expecting rain. Every weather-person was predicting a wet day today, and forcasting a dismal morning for the Rose Parade. Hah! A sunny, though cold (by SoCal standards) morning. Why can't I get a job as a weather-person. They are only right less than half the time. And in Southern California, it is not like we even have weather. Today is usually like yesterday, and much like tomorrow. When there is weather to report, like rain (stay tuned for Storm Watch 2005!), these folks fall all over themselves like they just discovered a cure for cancer. Perhaps it is the routine monotony of the job that causes this sort of enthusiasm for real weather.

Still, after almost a week of tropical rain here, that the sun would be shining on New Year's Day morning is rather remarkable. Or not. Knowing the history of the Rose Parade, it has not rained on the Rose Parade since either 1954 or 1955. That's a long time!

In the 20 years we have lived in the Pasadena area, we can recall several times when New Year's Eve was windy and rainy, and yet New Year's Day was dry. At least in the morning, for the parade. Is this a sign of the Almighty's blessing? Or did someone long ago make a Faustian deal with Old Scratch to ensure a rain-free Rose Parade?

The real "news" is that we stayed home this morning. Our custom for the last 10 years or so has been to awaken at 5:00 a.m. on New Year's Day, and walk up Orange Grove Boulevard to see the floats up close and personal. We usually get to about Del Mar, and then turn back due to the crowds and congestion. We usually get back home just in time to watch the parade at 8:00 a.m. on TV. Back home with hot chocolate and warm cinnamon rolls. Mmmmm. Of course, it is easier now that we do not have to carry the kids on our backs, or push them in a stroller. Those days are long over, but the wonderful memories remain.

We always see neighbors and friends from our area when we make the walk. What a great experience! People from all over the world watch the parade on TV, and we get to see the floats just by walking a mile or two to see them. An international event, for us, is profoundly local.

So we will enjoy the parade from the warmth of our own home this morning, and with hot chocolate. Alas, no warm cinnamon rolls. South Beach or Atkins already plays the spoiler role!

Happy New Year, from South Pasadena.