From the Pastor

Turning fifty. It sounds significant. Some dread it. Some consider the alternative of not turning fifty, and get over it. I'm reasonably hopeful. My last physical came out all right. My resting heart rate is the same as the President's (56 beats per minute), and my cholesterol is better. I'm still happily married after 25 years, an accomplishment due completely to the grace of my life partner. Our daughter is getting ready to graduate high school. I am serving in a congregation whose life and mission is vital and effective. Our two dogs greet me with enthusiasm.

So far, the only thing wrong with this picture is my eyesight. It has always been my best of the five senses. I've always been able to see really well, both up close and far away. My brother and sisters, two and six years younger than I am, have been in glasses for years. I have quietly enjoyed this visual superiority over the rest of my family. Some people told me it would start to change around fifty, if it hadn't already done so. But I knew better.

So it's distressing to find out that they were right. I hate it. My perfect vision is changing, right before my eyes. One day I noticed that some things were not as clear as they always were before. And now, a few months later, what I've noticed is that my right eye is better at close work, and my left is better for distance. I know I need to get in and get it officially checked, but the evidence is undeniable. Perfect vision is a thing of the past. I hate it.

So that's one difference between me and our congregation. Both are celebrating our fiftieth birthdays in 2010. Mine comes a little earlier, near the end of this month. The church's birthday could be celebrated a number of times, beginning when the first eleven people got together to imagine what is now Rolling Hills United Methodist Church. They met a number of times between the late Spring and Summer, and began to worship in September, 1960. Dwight Eisenhower was in the White House. McDonald's sold its 400 millionth hamburger. I was in diapers.

The vision of those eleven, both close up and distance, was nearly perfect. They could see clearly what needed to be done right in front of them, and they could look down the road and provide possibilities no one had yet imagined. They laid the foundation for a community of faith that is alive and well, growing in its life and work, our love for each other and our service to the wider world.

We're turning fifty, the church and I. My eyesight is changing. But our congregation's vision, both for the needs and hopes right in front of us, and the possibilities for our future, is still well in focus. We're planning to develop new spaces for our mission with children. We look forward to continued growth in worship. We are reaching out to middle and older adults, and helping our campus to serve all ages more effectively. As we move through this fiftieth anniversary year one of the best things we can do to honor the efforts of those who gave birth to this church family is to maintain the vision that was ours from the beginning. I look forward to celebrating with you.


Grace & Peace,