Brahms

I was very late in warming up to Brahms. Perhaps one needs to achieve a certain age or maturity. I guess I always considered him superfluous to Beethoven, which was, ironically, his lifelong fear.

Or, perhaps, all I needed was to know something about the man. Brahms was a genius. The quality of his compositions is second to none. Not Bach, not even Mozart. Because he was so self-deprecating, he only allowed highly perfected works to see the light of publishing. So, not only is his output of exceptional quality, it is exceptionally consistently so.

His music tends to be weighty. This might have been part of my delay. He was a man who experienced addictions and heartbreak. Well into middle age, he fell completely in love with the daughter of his friend Robert Schumann. She was in her teens at the time - a hopelessly impossible attraction even for that time. Later he composed a masterpiece - the Alto Rhapsody - and gave it to her for a wedding present. Imagine getting a full blown, for the ages, masterpiece, full of passion and longing from, basically, your uncle for a wedding present.

So, he came by the depth reflected in his music naturally. But the real worth of the music, and the thing that took me so long to recognize, is how clearly it reflects a man who has come out the other side. His requiem, for example. It has been described as "a work that seems to tell us, with the utmost civility and compassion, that dying is neither the most frightening nor the most terrible thing a human can do". Here is a man who is at peace with what is, including himself.

Tonight was the going-away party for the DeWetters. Over 300 people attended. The usual ladies (thank you, thank you, Georgia, Katherine, and Nancy!) did a wonderful job organizing it. Tracy, a relative newcomer to St. James, put together an exceptional video of goodbyes, well wishing, and remembering. It was a perfect goodbye celebration.

So, when I came home afterward, I was at a loss about what to do with the evening. Upon a bit of consideration, Brahms was perfect.

Robert

Robert is leaving. Soon. They had a yard sale last weekend.

I've known a lot of pastors in my life. Most served the church I attended at the time, but others were members of The Word of God. Those I got to know a bit beyond the man in the pulpit. Then there were a few who where both: Pastor Joest and Pastor Ted.

Pastor Ted was the first to have significant impact on my life. Part of this had to do with who he is, part with how long he served, and part with the fact that he was my first Pastor as an adult. Pastor Ted was also the last person I (mostly subconciously) tried to make a father figure for myself, but that goes beyond the scope of this post. Pastor Ted did two things that stand out most. First, he provided some excellent counselling for Lisa and I through a rough stretch. Second, he called out my leadership ability.

Following Pastor Ted was Pastor Mossman. Pastor Mossman was an interim who ended up staying longer than he planned. I didn't have to try to make him a father figure - he just was. Pastor Mossman really wanted me to become a pastor. Some of us went to a conference and he took me around introducing me to various people who might play a part in me moving in that direction (synod presidents and seminary people). He also gave me his copy of Luther's Works (50 some volumes). Sometimes I feel a bit like I let him down, but I'm sure he would understand that my life just didn't go that way.

When I first started going to St. James, the rest of the fam was still in A2. It was a lonely time and the loneliness brought grief out of remission (I don't have to tell most of you about that...). There was an announcement in the bulletin about spiritual direction being available. I made an appointment. I met Robert in his office and we started with the typical intro type stuff. Robert mentioned that, prior to becoming a priest, he had been a psychologist working on a pediatric oncology unit. I knew then that St. James was our new church. Robert provided me with a lot of spiritual direction over the next 5 years. He pretty much walked with me as grief ate away the faith that had characterized my life up to that point, through the desert that followed, and out the other side. Sometimes, it seemed, his benediction "No matter what you're feeling or may be experiencing..." was all that got me through the week spiritually.

My experience of Robert has been that he's been an excellent priest. But, he's also become a friend. Given the nature of the pastoral role, that is pretty rare. It takes a special person to pull it off. The other notable thing is, and I've mentioned this often, how healthy St. James is. Robert's ministry has certainly played a part in this.

My faith is different than before we moved here. In important ways, it feels much deeper, sort of tempered. At the same time, I feel like I carry it much lighter than before. It's like I have nothing to prove or something. Like I don't have to subconciously convince myself or that it's a reflection of other's expectations. Like Jacob, I've got this limp as a reminder (or is it a missing finger?).

So, I'm losing a friend. I've got a lot of other friends who are in the same boat and that helps. We'll get a new priest and things will move on. But Robert will always be one of those critical people who came along just at the right time and through whom God worked.