What
precipitated our talk was my volunteering with a task group of alumni from Yale
Divinity School shaping our 35th “cluster reunion” (classes of
’76-’78) this October. I mentioned that one of the young reps from the alumni
association working with us had suggested we might want to talk about how we
are “winding down” our ministries and other careers. I caught a whiff of
denial, perhaps, as one of my former classmates quickly countered we might not
be winding down at all, but preparing for our “next big thing.” I told my
brother that I kind of felt like I was
winding down—working just as hard, mind you, but with no great expectations as
in younger days.
Propinquity
would have it—maybe even grace—that a writer detailing the LGBT movement within
mainstream Protestant U.S. churches asked me at this time to be among those
reviewing the manuscript for accuracy. I am grateful to be remembered for the
various roles I played as an activist helping LGBT people claim our memberships,
ministries, and marriages within the church and culture. And to know that we are at least on our way
to complete success. Career-wise for me (he said wistfully) I just wish it had
come a little sooner.
As
I encourage former classmates to come to the reunion, I am learning what high achievers
they have been in their various vocations, denominations, non-profit
organizations, academic institutions, and humanitarian causes. They have worked
hard applying what they learned in seminary to the world. Jesus would be proud.
As
those who follow this blog know, I was also reading Viktor Frankl’s epic Man’s Search for Meaning during this
time. I can’t help but chuckle at my choice of texts at a time when “man’s
search for his glasses” might be more pertinent! But Frankl, a concentration
camp survivor who founded the psychiatric school of logotherapy, remarks on our
desire to leave “an immortal ‘footprint in the sands of time’”:
Usually, to be sure, man considers only the
stubble field of transitoriness and overlooks the full granaries of the past,
wherein he had salvaged once and for all his deeds, his joys and also his
sufferings. Nothing can be undone, and nothing can be done away with. I should
say having been is the surest kind of
being.
And,
instead of envying the future of the young, Frankl says the old instead may
affirm:
“Instead of possibilities, I have realities in
my past, not only the reality of work done and of love loved, but of sufferings
bravely suffered. These sufferings are even the thing of which I am most proud,
though these are things which cannot inspire envy.”
“Having been is the surest kind of
being.” We can be proud of work done, love loved, joys welcomed, sufferings endured. Being a
“has been” doesn’t sound so bad, does it?
Copyright © 2012 by
Chris R. Glaser. All rights reserved. Permission granted for non-profit use
with attribution of author and blogsite, http://chrisglaser.blogspot.com. Donations welcome!
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For a related post,
check out “I Wanted to Be Famous!” (June 1, 2011) on this blog.
