14 November 2010

A Melancholy Sausage Supper

Oh, the feast was joyous - no two ways about it.  But I couldn't help but see the folks who are no longer with us, whom the Lord has gathered home or who have grown too feeble to assist any longer.  Oh, there were many new hands at work, and things went swimmingly, but I was struck by how things have changed since I've been here.  20 years almost.  It's a long time. I especially missed Dorothy at the sausage station, filling up platters and listening to her cheerful banter.  It was wonderful to see Jennifer and Amy there, but I can't count the times I thought "where's Dorothy?" only to remind myself she's been gathered home.  And I could multiply the names quite easily.  And seeing folks only once a year (Sausage Supper is the only time we do catch up with many friends in the community, sadly), I was struck by how we all have aged.  Folks that I remember so hale and hearty, leaning now on walkers or suffering various maladies.  Sigh.  Such is life in this fallen world. How would we ever make it through the heart-ache without the comfort of the Holy Spirit, the promises of our Lord, and the certainty of the Father's love?  O Blessed Trinity, in all the changes of our lives, Your unchanging love is our rock and refuge!  Glory to You!  Glory to You forever!


tehazy said...

Brother, those have been my thoughts as well these past days. I miss the saints who have gone before us.

Elephantschild said...

Yesterday my Dh and I were discussing the decline of robust singing in our congregation. I pointed out that dear Mr. S is no longer with us. His big Oswald Hoffmann voice must have helped carry the singing of several pews' worth of people sitting near him.

tubbs said...

AND WE TOO are getting closer to heaven. It's the old 'don't ask for whom the bell tolls' thing.
Glory be to the Father, Son and Holy Ghost. Lord preserve us and keep us as Your own.

Jeremy Loesch said...

You have such a nice way of putting things Will. I appreciate learning about you and the congregation you serve. I've drove by it so many times so many years ago. Thanks for the way you share and doing so in a way that is, at the same time, specific and universal.


William Weedon said...

Thanks, all. We miss them, and yet we worship with them, and they are as near to us as the touch of the Lord's body and blood on our lips. And yes, we're headed to join them - walking the same path through suffering, dying, death, resurrection.

Jeremy, I wish everyone could know the remarkable people of this parish. But then again, that's the truth of each parish: it's filled with one of a kind saints that the Lord raised up for that community and that time.

Jeremy Loesch said...

I drove by your church many times in seminary on my way to visit people at Concordia Chicago. I always thought it would be nice to stop in.

And you do a very nice job of discreetly sharing the life of your parish.

It is very true that your church is not really unique as much as it is distinct. Or vice versa. Our congregation looks at the empty seats in the pew or Bible class, and it makes us misty. But then we contemplate the people the Lord has sent us.

I know I am often guilty of envy. I hear of what is taking place in other congregations and then compare what is or is not happening in the congregation I serve. And then I feel bad. And then I feel bad for feeling bad. It's a vicious cycle until I remember to thank God for the spot I am in.

The saints here display an amazing amount of gratitude for the meager gifts I offer. God is good.