February in June - Part 3

Continued ...

I am finding it very difficult to draw this story to a close. Partly, this is because it is a difficult and somewhat embarrassing story, but mostly because it is simply too big. If I were to tell the whole thing, then I must mention that, at the time that we left Calvary OPC, I was nearing the end of a high-risk and difficult pregnancy and also that, within weeks of leaving, my husband fell off a ladder and broke his leg. The eight-months-pregnant lady who could barely walk was pushing her husband in a wheelchair. That is a story in itself. Suffice it to say that if the people at Calvary OPC had wanted to laugh at us, they certainly had ample opportunity.

Perhaps they snickered a bit to themselves, but toward us, there was only kindness. The first time that we contacted our pastor again, we were bracing ourselves for the worst. We found a pretext on which to tentatively test the water, and we sent a business-like email. We wondered whether we were about to be chastised for leaving or whether our recent misfortunes might be thrown in our faces. Or perhaps there would be no answer at all.

The next morning, a reply popped back to my inbox. I hovered my cursor over the 'delete' button, wondering whether even opening it might be a mistake. But at last, curiosity got the better of me. I clicked to open it. "It is funny that you should email," said the note. "My wife and I were just talking about you. We don't want you to feel as though we can't be friends, even if you do not go to our church. We miss you."

I stared at the message until my eyes got so blurry with tears that I couldn't see it anymore.

I would like to wrap up this story neatly by saying that we came back to the church and were thereafter always a joy to everyone around us, but that would not be true. We came back slowly and defensively, picking and arguing our way. We had other fits and threatened to leave again, but we did not carry through on them. Gradually, we settled in again.

It was June when I finally brought up the subject of church membership again to our pastor. "I'm really sorry that we left," I said. "But I don't suppose there's any good asking about membership anymore? Can we still join?"

"Of course you may." He smiled a little nervously. "I'll get you the tapes of the new member classes that you missed."

And so it was that my husband and I sat outside on a warm June afternoon with an old cassette player between us. I held our new baby on my lap, and Rick had his crutches next to his chair. I pressed 'play' on the cassette player, and we heard the opening words of the class that we were supposed to attend four months before: "It's freezing this morning. Well, I guess it is February ..."

* * * * * * * *

Ministry is a terribly complex thing. Five years ago, I never would have foreseen that today I would still be a member of Calvary OPC. I wouldn't have guessed that I would have so many good friends at church or that I would feel so at home there. I wouldn't have imagined it possible to be so comfortably nestled in a community of faith and so trusting of those around me.

Likewise, I am sure that they wouldn't have imagined that the defensive, angry, and insecure woman who constantly threatened to leave would someday be co-directing the VBS program and teaching Sunday School classes for the children. And yet, here we are. But nothing about it was sudden. It was day by day, and week by week. It required steadfast teeth-gritting persistence. There were ups and downs for years. Sometimes I would be set off over some trivial matter and rage against the church, and then I would panic and say, "I'm so sorry. Please don't throw me out." It seemed impossible that we would ever settle down.

In the end, their ministry to our family did actually succeed. But there is no way they could have known that it would, and I know now that they did not even expect it to end well. There had been ministry failures that involved people who arrived with far fewer problems than we had. There really is no way to know which will succeed and which will simply go down in flames no matter what you do.

While there is no formula that ensures success, I do know that it was their kindness made it possible for us to join Calvary OPC. I love Reformed theology, and yet I must echo the apostle Paul in saying that without love, all knowledge is just so much noise. (I Cor. 13) My husband and I have learned much from the preaching of the Word over the past few years, but we were only able to do so because the message was wrapped in gentleness and patience. It is not always persuasion that turns the heart and opens the eyes, but more often, it is mercy.

* * * * * * *

Quote from Confessions of St. Augustine about his own conversion:

"To Milan I came, to Ambrose the Bishop ....To him I was unknowingly led by Thee, that by him I might knowingly be led to Thee. That man of God received me like a father and looked with a benevolent and episcopal kindness on my change of abode. And I began to love him, not at first, indeed, as a teacher of the truth--which I entirely despaired of in Thy church--but as a man friendly to myself. And I studiously harkened to him preaching to the people, not with the motive that I should, but, as it were, trying to discover whether his eloquence came up to the fame thereof ... Salvation is far from the wicked, such as I then stood before him, and yet I was drawing nearer gradually and unconsciously."