Mount Horeb

“The Lord our God spoke to us at Horeb, saying,
“You have stayed long enough at this mountain.”  Deuteronomy 1:6 

One day, while standing in a line up at Tim Horton’s in Williams Lake, I looked around and I realized, there was no one in the place who knew who I was.  No congregational members, no colleagues from other denominations or people from other agencies that I had connections with.  Rather than enjoying my anonymity, I felt a sense of panic.  “I am no one,” I thought.  I was so overcome with unexpected grief at such a thought, that I left the line-up and headed back to my car, wondering what the hell had just happened.  I identified so strongly with my sense of calling, my vocation, that I seriously wondered what I could be without it.  Who would I be?  Would it be enough?

For some people I will never be enough.  I’ve learned to accept that.  That’s ok.  They don’t get to play in my tree fort!

I have also come to understand that I am more than my vocation, that who I am as `Juanita’ is enough.  I have been feeling the Spirit’s tug at my heart for some time now, and it lets me know that it is time to make a change, it is time to boldly go where I have never gone before – into retirement.  Yesterday, I informed the Board that I would retire at the end of June of this year, beginning my retirement on July 1^st.

I decided not to preach on the worthy scriptures set out for today, because I suspect after such an announcement, you might not hear anything else this morning.  But if you will bear with me, I’ll say a little bit about this one verse from the book of Deuteronomy.  “The Lord our God spoke to us at Horeb, saying,
“You have stayed long enough at this mountain.”  Deuteronomy 1:6 

 It was part of a reflection by Janice MacLean, writing for a blog called the Prayer Bench.  It caught my attention as it caught hers.  Janice writes:

There are many significant verses in this Book, which is all about the covenant between God and the people, but this verse in the opening chapter tugged at my heart. And didn’t let go.

The work of this place is done. The people were grounded.
They received the Law and had some lived experience in making it work.
They built a tabernacle, that movable meeting place.
They numbered the people, which means they worked on identity issues.
They sorted out gifts, and appointed leaders.

And now, it’s time to resume the journey.
It’s time to leave the mountain.
They’ve have stayed here long enough.
It’s time to move on.

Out of the comfort zone, into the unknown.
Out of the ordinary, to face the undreamed-of.
Out of the familiar, now to be daring.
Shake off your habits, go deeper in faith.

 And she asks the questions:

 How do you know when it’s time to move on, time to move deeper, time to move over?

 What is the mountain that sheltered you well, and readied your heart to make your move possible?

 Dear friends at Sicamous United Church, you have been the mountain that has sheltered me well.  I came to you wounded in spirit, and you accepted me for who I am.  You have been gracious and affirming of the gifts I have been able to give, and you have been gracious and accepting regarding the gifts that I don’t have.  For these, and so much more, I am truly grateful.  Although I am at peace with my decision, I am deeply aware that it impacts each of you in different ways.  I know it uproots you and brings new challenges that you would not likely have chosen at this time.  I will travel with you and support you however I can in the time that is left to us together.

For myself, having never retired before, it will be a learning curve.  Alas, I don’t have great role models in my family.   Even though my Dad was just voted Citizen of the Year in Fort Nelson, it is a little known fact that my parents are actually terrible role models… for retirement.  Mom at 79 is still taking courses to keep her accreditation and doing massage therapy three days a week, and Dad is forever fixing, restoring or inventing something at the museum.  On the other hand they are great role models for teaching me the value of doing what you love to do.

I do love ministry – but it a struggle when that love seems to be shared by so few.  I feel a bit lost in a church – the wider church, that on the one hand wants to get rid of all God-talk and be a much cooler place to be, and on the other hand says that all our problems are because we’re not being faithful enough to Jesus and the Bible.  I love music and I will continue to sing and play in whatever way I can, and with whom I can.  How blessed we all are to have Steve and Andrew joining in the music.  And Jim of course, I’m always happy to make music with Jim.

Speaking of Jim, now there’s something I love; someone I love.  And since it took such a long time for me to find him, I really want to spend as much time as I can with him.  Retirement seems like the best option to help that happen.

I know that God is not finished with me yet… I will get my book “Cup of Wine & a Piece of Bread’ finished and published, and I will give you credit for giving me the modified sabbatical in order to get it well started.  I will, after a time of backing off, put my name on the `pulpit supply’ list so I can lead worship from time to time, or do some teaching about what’s happening in Palestine and Israel (as I will be this coming Wed. night at St. Andrew’s in Enderby).  I will… I will see where else the Spirit will lead.  And you will to.  There will be opportunity for conversation with Allison Rennie, our Conference minister, and I will be fully involved (at ½ time) in ministry with you over the next three and a half months.  Let’s make the best of our time together, ok?  Let’s see this as a `bucket list’ time, and discover what we want to do together.  Thank you for being with me on this faith journey.