Whadya Remember?

Last week, Lynne and I enjoyed a nice, simple vacation. I was asked to officiate a wedding in Columbus, GA, for a young man who grew up in the church we served from 2003 to 2010. So, we made a whole week of it - first to the Chattanooga area to spend a day with dear friends, then to Dublin, GA, where we used to live, and then on to Columbus. Two thousand miles of mountains, rivers, lakes, evergreens, kudzu, and friends.

Those who were in the youth group when we were there are now ... adults. And it's wonderful. Watching personalities emerge and define, now finding their more mature expression, with clearer heads and more significant priorities. Kids that we had bi-polar relationships with - from thoroughly enjoying to angry corrections - now more than able to relate as adults.

We also got to catch up with so many of our friends, some in their homes, some at a party, and others still at the wedding. People that we broke bread with, stayed up all night in the hospital with, went fishing with (and the subsequent fish fry), hunted with, and learned the Word with. We walked through weddings, baptisms, births, divorces, illness, death, and daily life with some very dear people.

One special visit was to the home of an older couple, James and Mary. James is quite ill and under hospice care. In the weeks leading up to our trip, there was real concern that he wouldn't still be with us by time we arrived. He was, looking frail and surviving on oxygen, but joyful. They spoke about God's goodness and how much they appreciated seeing us again. James said our visit was his best birthday present, which tells you far more about them than us. Lynne understandably left several tears there.

During all these visits, there was lots of reminiscing. Many great memories, lots of "remember that time when...?" We caught up on recent events, but we also enjoyed recalling the times we spent together, the good and the bad. Like the time we unintentionally scared the youngest kids during VBS with a life-size lion costume, turning Aslan into a scary character for some traumatized kiddos. But there was one kind of recall that never occurred, not even once. Not one person said, "Remember that one sermon where you said..."

No one talked about a single sermon - supposedly the thing I was primarily employed to do for that church. Those weren't the memories that bubbled to the top. What we did talk about was the time we spent together, both individually and as groups. That's what we hang onto most. As important as sermons and lessons and meetings are to the life of the church, the greatest impact we have on one another is not flawlessly running our programs, but twisting our busy lives into one another. That is more church than great praise songs and a moving sermon.

What you, Lynne, and I will remember together will not be how well we did church, but how well we were church. Let's continue to twist our busy lives into one another so that one day we will say, "Remember that time when ..." and it not be about what I'm employed to do.