From the Log Colleges of the Western frontier, to the nineteenth century academies of our own Shenandoah Valley, Presbyterian ministers have a long and storied history of providing not just spiritual guidance but practical knowledge as well.


Most of you probably have heard bits and pieces of the story of my Call to ministry, but one thing you may not know is that when I first considered what God might be calling me to do, I thought it would be teaching. I had graduated from college with an English Literature degree and only the vaguest notion of what I might do. After some fits and starts, I decided that my future lay in academia – this despite the fact that I had, heretofore showed little interest in academic excellence. of any kind! I actually went to seminary to discern what discipline in which to pursue a doctorate; I figured becoming a professor of New Testament, or church history, of Theology would be more important, more significant than teaching Moby Dick to college freshmen - not that there's anything wrong with teaching literature, or with college freshmen, for that matter. Of course, God had other plans, and I wouldn’t have changed them for the world; as one of my seminary professors once told me, writing a dissertation is like making a brick – no matter how creative and imaginative you are, they have to be just so high, and wide and long, and weigh just so much… right or wrong, that logic resonated with me, and I resolved to seek ordination, putting me on the path that would eventually lead me to Mossy Creek almost ten years ago. Even so, the opportunity to teach has become of the most rewarding aspects of ministry for me. Whether it be a confirmation class, officer training, book study or an in-depth exploration of a subject, teaching is one of my favorite pastoral activities. It’s certainly one of the things that has made this past year so interesting.


One morning after worship almost a year ago, I was pulled aside by someone whose opinion I value highly. I was worried - often, when someone pulls me aside, it is to share a difficult concern; but that morning, it was not a concern, but a suggestion. Have you ever thought about teaching? Local colleges often need instructors for classes on religion, and you do a good job, and enjoy it…


The suggestion came to me as a surprise, notwithstanding my original notions about God’s Call. After all, it had been more than twenty years, and I long since been confirmed in my Call to be a pastor. I took it as a compliment, and filed it away. But then, another precinct was heard from. Not more than a week later, an acquaintance of Ann’s (a fellow Presbyterian) who worked in the administration of National College sent her an e-mail. They were looking an instructor for a class on World Religion, and did she know someone who might be interested? It was one of those times when you look around and think, Wow! Is think there might be a message here for me… So Ann and I talked about it, I prayed about it, and I replied. The next thing I knew, I was chatting with the campus director, getting ready to teach an elective course on World Religions.


Now, I understand there has been some concern about the time and attention involved in such an outside endeavor: Mossy Creek is not a part time Call, and I am not a tent-maker pastor. I see what I’m doing at the college as something akin to a hobby – an interest outside my work that refreshes me, while stretching me intellectually. Each class meets for one four hour session each week, and each term is eleven weeks long. Since most instructors are working professionals in their field, the college is very understanding about the limits of my time commitment. This past year, I have taught as many as two sections of the same course, one afternoon and one evening; this term, I had one class, on Thursday evening, and will not be teaching during the summer session; I will never teach more than two sections in any term. In order to compensate, I adjust my schedule as needed, and the campus director is always willing to cover a class for me if there is ever a pastoral need. They do pay me a small amount for class time, which is helpful as we pay for college and Governor’s School, but what I really appreciate is the opportunity to both learn and share, for when you teach, you learn – every time.


My perspective on the religions of the world is now very different than it was at this time last year; I am able to articulate in a much deeper way the similarities between the world’s faiths, but more importantly, the crucial places where Christianity is truly unique. It has been exciting to honor God’s Call in a deeper way, and to represent Mossy Creek in the larger community.

It may be just me,

but it seems that time is moving faster and faster; looking back can be like scenery, flashing by a train - glimpses, fragments of the strange and familiar rushing past, as we watch out the window, mesmerized by the rhythm of the road. But it’s only an illusion. What moves is us: learning, growing, aging – changing, moment by moment, day by day. As disciples of Christ, we are not simply observers of life – we are active participants, making the most of each day, taking stock of both challenges and blessings as we look forward to whatever is to come.

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about this past year. Recently, we passed the anniversary of a very difficult time for our family, and I am profoundly grateful that our son is doing well and is back at school. Connall’s illness changed my perspective; I’m convinced God’s gift of love is so powerful, so intense – both in its joy and its pain - that we require the Holy Spirit to survive what it does to our lives. I am trying to appreciate more fully each moment with Ann and the children, no matter how mundane or routine those moments might be.

In our congregational life, we can rightly celebrate the financial ministry of the church. The giving of the congregation increased in 2010, despite the current economic uncertainty; Mossy Creek ended the year under budget and in the black! After several years of hard work, we now have an excellent system for budgeting, tracking expenses and evaluating spending. As we make the transition to new treasurers, we can rejoice and give thanks to God for the for all the hard work by Paula Zirk and the Finance committee members, past and present. It is important that we maintain the financial discipline which has been developed, and so we pray for Mack Wilson and the current Finance committee.

Now it is time for us to turn our attention to another vital ministry of the church. While some grass roots efforts have continued and even expanded - the ongoing care for the Huffer family and the participation in the work of the Stokesville Food Pantry come to mind - much of the momentum for outreach generated in the wake of hurricanes Katrina and Rita has dissipated. The Witness Committee, in response to your concerns and suggestions, is exploring opportunities for mission outreach in our local area, which would make it easier for each of to share in the ministry to which each of us is called. It is vital that we support these efforts, not only with our money, but also with our time and talent, for it is working together that we have the opportunity to give and receive what God so freely offers in Christ. The words of Anna Coghill’s hymn serve as our call:

Work , for the night is coming; work through the morning hours;
Work while the dew is sparkling, work ‘mid the springing flowers;
Work when the day grows brighter, work in the glowing sun;
Work, for the night us coming, when man’s work is done.

Christ is in the details

So why is it so important that I visit people?

Pastoral visitation is a funny thing. Like, say salt, or advice from one’s in-laws, the right amount of pastoral visitation varies widely from person to person, from family to family.

On the frontier, farms and homesteads were often separated by miles, so that any sort of visitation was a time-consuming process. Pastors spent so much of their time travelling from pulpit to pulpit, or tending to their own land, they weren’t really expected to do a lot of visitation; their time was spent on preparing at least one (lengthy) sermon each week. The preacher might ‘visit’ for an overnight stay between preaching points; come to comfort the gravely ill; preside over funerals and weddings; and occasionally stop by to chastise an erring parishioner. Even into the twentieth century, it was just assumed a pastor spent hours in the study, researching and drafting the week’s sermon. But times change. The automobile has closed distances between us, so that, even in a country church like Mossy Creek, no one is truly isolated. And while Presbyterians still consider the Proclamation of the Word the central event of worship, few are willing to sit through a two-hour sermon – at least I don’t think they are. But beyond those very important changes, there is another insight with which I have been engaging, that brings a theological dimension to pastoral visitation.

It has become almost a cliché to describe the Christian faith as a relationship. For years, our more charismatic brothers and sisters have been advocating a ‘personal relationship with Jesus Christ,’ something which for years was hard to for me to envision. It wasn’t a question of God’s existence, or the truth of the Gospel, but a practical, logistical problem: How does one go about establishing a relationship with someone who isn’t here? For all the talk about God’s omnipresence, the Father and the Son are not HERE here -a not here like everyone else with whom I have a relationship. This, as they say, was the rub.

But God is good. I have come to understand the answer to this logistical problem by, of all things, looking hard at one of my own ‘growing edges’ (the new, non-judgmental term to describe what used to be called ‘weaknesses’ or ‘shortcomings.’) It may be hard to believe, but I am rather shy; because of that, visitation has always been one of my growing edges in ministry. It’s not as if I freeze up, or find myself unable to engage with others – I have just found it hard to get to the door, so to speak. Why would anyone want me to come over? What an imposition – entertaining me! Thoughts like this could easily paralyze me, and sabotage even my best intentions. But then one of my favorite passages spoke to me in a new way:

Dear friends, let us love one another, for love comes from God. Everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God. Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love. This is how God showed his love among us: He sent his one and only Son into the world that we might live through him. This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins. Dear friends, since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another. No one has ever seen God; but if we love one another, God lives in us and his love is made complete in us.


God gives us the power to love, to actively pursue what is best for the object of our love; but in order for us to know what is best for someone, we must know them. This is what Jesus did in his ministry, walking and talking with disciples, eating with strangers, asking those who came to him, what is it you want me to do for you? This is what we are called to do: to know each other, to listen to the stories of life, the joys and sorrows, hopes and fears; to work together, discovering talents, pushing one another to be the best we can be; to celebrate, and mourn, together. And God’s promise is to be there in us, all the while.

Our relationship with God grows in direct proportion to our relationships with each other in His name. In a real sense, Christ is in the details; the more we know, the deeper the relationship - the more we love. It is in that process of knowing and loving that we will come to see the face of Christ in them; the more we love one another, the deeper and firmer and more personal will be our relationship with Jesus. And that’s why I visit.

Just what do you do, anyway?

It’s a legitimate question. How a pastor spends their time is not always easy to see, especially in a country church without daily programming. The quick answer is, lots of things, and over time, it is my hope to acquaint you with many of them; this time, let’s look at what we Presbyterians call The Proclamation of the Word. As I said in a recent sermon, many of you know me as the Preacher, so obviously, I preach. But preaching requires several distinct undertakings, each of which takes both time and effort.
Preaching requires planning. I like to plan worship on a quarterly or seasonal basis, and for the most part, I follow the Revised Common Lectionary. The Lectionary is a three-year schedule of lessons that covers a wide swath of the Bible; I find using it keeps me from getting in a rut. In planning, I read through the scriptures for the season, and try to discern what God is calling us to hear. Sometimes, this is a quick process; sometimes it can take quite a while. After the scripture passages have been chosen, I use several worship planning resources (including my database of hymns you all know and like) to select hymns for each Sunday. I then create a worship planner (which is given to the worship committee and anyone else who wants one), and set up the bulletins in the computer, with the scripture lessons and hymns in place.
Preaching requires study. Of course, I went to Seminary, so a lot of the studying has already been done. It’s important, though, to go back to the books on a regular basis – especially when it comes to preaching. At the beginning of each week, I refresh my memory about the sermon lesson, and use my planning resources to help write the call to worship and prayer of confession. Then it’s time to study. For me, key words are fascinating, so I’ll often do some word study, in addition to checking the Bible commentaries, and, yes, my old sermons - although it is often a little embarrassing to read them again.
Preaching requires mulling. Sometimes it’s obvious where God is taking us with a passage; a sermon title pops right into my head at the beginning of the process, and we’re off to the proverbial races. Other times, I’ll look at a sermon title on Monday morning and wonder what in the world were you thinking when you came up with that? Most weeks, though, it’s somewhere in the middle, so after reading up on the passage, it’s time to mull things over; to think long and hard about the passage, opening myself to what God is saying to me and to us. While this mulling starts in my office, it continues in various settings, including lawn mowing, yard work, sitting on the porch, going for a drive – even grocery shopping. But perhaps one of the best ways to mull over the sermon is to talk with you all, because
Preaching requires me to know you. For me, preaching isn’t just about making theological points, or teaching doctrine; it’s about finding a way for us to both see and feel what God is doing in our midst. In fact, that might be the best part of my job – the privilege of seeing and learning, interpreting and sharing what God is doing in you. I get to do in lots of ways: sharing a meal, working on a project,
hanging around at the lawn party, sleeping in a bunkhouse, sipping tea on the porch – all of it is grist for the mill, and I love it all.
The last part is coming up with the a way in, the hook upon which I can hang my introduction, and a way out, the conclusion that keeps me from going on and on. Then it’s a matter of typing up my notes – although that, too, can make for a long night.
I love the regularity of preaching; the chance to share and build on last week’s sermon, the weekly deadline to meet, the sense of accomplishment I get each Sunday morning between 11:05 and 11:15, when the sermon is accomplished. It is my hope and prayer that the Spirit is at work in the sermon every week, and we continue to grow in faith through the Proclamation of the Word.
If you want a copy of this season’s worship planner, check the preacher’s mailbox, next to the office. Next time, perhaps we’ll talk about some of the other things I do; until next then, remember: I am yours in Christ.
Patrick, the Preacher