The tree outside my window.
If
the autumn breeze outside my window continues, most of the golden and yellow
leaves will fall from our tree in the backyard by the end of the morning I
write this. I kind of know how it feels, as my red hair thins and greys.
I
had quite another post planned and halfway written for today, but I received
such an overwhelming response to my Facebook post about “officially” retiring
last Thursday that I feel compelled to write of it. I wrote:
I officially retired today as an MCC clergyperson, though I will continue writing my blog, “Progressive Christian Reflections.” I would be open to leaving retirement if I had another opportunity to serve in ministry. Thanks be to God for Metropolitan Community Churches’ belief in my ministry when my home denomination of the Presbyterian Church USA lacked faith. Still love Presbyterians, but I am grateful for MCC’s welcome. God is good.
To
be honest, nothing much will change. I’m just letting go of the “formal” side
of ministry, the forms to be completed each year and the continuing education
requirement and the annual clergy renewal fee. I am told I can still write my
blog under MCC auspices, preach and celebrate sacraments, lead weddings and
funerals, visit hospitals and prisons, and keep the “Rev” which is important to
me, having spent most of my life without it. (My brother once commented that I
seemed as busy in retirement as when I was gainfully employed!)
Having
seen my name in print multiple times, the late writer and editor James Solheim
once kidded me, “Has ‘M.Div.’ become part of your name now?” I explained I used
it as my only credential, since I was not a “Rev.” And now I still use it
because so many clergy use “Rev” who have no seminary degree. I also often
identify myself as a graduate of Yale Divinity School simply to let people know
I am a progressive Christian!
I
joked with Wade last Thursday about our evening meal being my “retirement
dinner,” and though there will be no such formality, I am grateful for my
“legacy tour,” given opportunities to reflect on the meaning of my life and the
LGBT Christian movement, including That All May Freely Serve’s “Rock Stars and
Prophets” at Stony Point, New York; Kirkridge Retreat and Study Center’s
“Celebration of LGBTQ Lives” in Pennsylvania; and the ecumenical “Rolling the
Stone Away” gathering in St. Louis. These were reunions of saints I am grateful
to know and to join in celebrating the progress we’ve made in our churches and
our culture.
Yet
I confess ambivalence about my diminishing role. I write this not to gain your
sympathy, but rather to say I understand you who have experienced, are
experiencing, and will experience something similar. I have taken comfort in
the anonymous “Prayer of an Aging Jesuit” in a book edited by Michael Harter,
SJ: Hearts on Fire: Praying with Jesuits.
It reads in part:
Help me to see that my community does me no wrongwhen gradually it takes from me my duties;when it no longer seems to seek my views.Rid me of my pride in all the “wisdom” I have learned.Rid me of the illusion that I am indispensable. …And please, Lord, let me still be useful,contributing to the world my optimism,adding my prayers to the joyful fervor and courageof those who now take their turn at the helm. …Let my leaving the field of action be simple and natural—Like a glowing, cheerful sunset.Lord, forgive me if only now in my tranquilityI begin to know how much you love me,how much you’ve helped me. …
Many
of you who have written or said kind words to me, either about my books or my
blog or my ministry, have received the response, “You made my day!” I’ve
written elsewhere that it’s a shame we often save our “eulogies” or “good
words” to honor those who have passed. Wouldn’t it be better if we shared them
now? I have been the beneficiary, like Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn, of, in a
sense, attending my own memorial when I receive such words.
In
the final conversation of “Rolling the Stone Away,” titled “Into the Third Millennium,” More Light Presbyterian executive director Alex McNeill told of
shelving books in his home church library when he “stumbled upon Chris Glaser’s
book. So I stole it and never returned it—sorry, future generations! I read Uncommon
Calling all the way through, took notes and wrote in my diary about it. It
gave me a sense of possibilities, of not being alone.”
I
was stunned, my eyes welling with tears. Alex then met lesbian evangelist Rev. Janie
Spahr on one of her (what I call) “missionary journeys.” The effect of these
encounters was transforming for Alex.
The
effect of Alex’s words was transforming for me too. He not only “made my day,”
he, in a sense, “made my life.”
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Copyright © 2017 by Chris R. Glaser.
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