By the Rev. Dr. Stacy Smith
(Column for the September 30, 2023 Auburn Citizen)

​I tend to be a planner. I like an organized calendar, a budget, and an itinerary. My husband used to joke, “Stacy can be spontaneous, as long as it’s on the schedule.” But, as I have recently been reminded, there are your plans, and there are God’s, and they don’t always line up. You probably know the old joke, “How do you make God laugh? Make a plan.” Over the last year, I have found that joke to be funny, but not exactly fun.
 
Three months ago, I had barely even heard of the Finger Lakes. As a pastor from Texas, then living in Tennessee, I had only a vague idea of New York. There was “The City,” where I went to graduate school back in the 2000s, and there was, well, everything else that wasn’t The City. But none of that mattered to me, because I wasn’t headed to the Finger Lakes or any other part of New York. I was bound for Loch Ness, or Loch Lomand, or any loch/lake in Scotland. That was the plan.
 
Like many of us, COVID had challenged me to consider what really mattered and how I wanted to live my life. After a few years of discernment, some tragedy, and the help of a really good realtor, I was ready to pack up my life in the United States and move to the island of Iona, on the far west coast of Scotland. I had visited this holy island before, but this was my chance to make a more permanent move. I was offered a long-term volunteer position, which I could actually afford to do (see “really good realtor“ above). I gave away most of my stuff, put the rest in storage, and took advantage of summer sales in the South to buy winter coats that I would need during my stay in the inner Hebrides. I quit my full-time job in community outreach at a hospital, and my part-time job as a pastor at a small church, and got ready to fly off on a one-way ticket to Scotland to live out this adventure and implement the new plan. 
 
And then that plan ran smack into the United Kingdom visa process. I won’t bore you with the details, but at the end of the day, my plans, and God’s plans, at least as I understood them, were not entirely compatible with the plans of the U.K. I did, and continue to, have hope that the “go volunteer in Scotland” plan might work in 2024. But, since this is 2023, I was stuck. And so, with no job, no church, no mortgage, and no plan, I did what we tend to do when we get desperate: I started searching Facebook. 
 
I posted one post on a network for leaders in the Presbyterian Church, and explained that I had at least a few months where I had nothing to do, and did anyone out there need a temporary pastor? Almost immediately I got inquiries from Minneapolis, South Carolina, New Jersey, western Oregon, and a sweet lady who tried very hard to sell me on the virtues of Fargo, North Dakota (still never been there, but she assures me it’s great). And, as you might have deduced, I had one inquiry from a church in Auburn, New York, whose beloved pastor had just resigned to spend more time with his family. We chatted, I googled, they offered, and that’s how Westminster Presbyterian Church, and the community of Auburn, became my short-term home. And, as I realized only a bit later, this was God’s plan all along.
 
Since the beginning of August, when I joined Westminster as the temporary pastor, I have been uniquely blessed by the church community, and the broader city of Auburn. I have felt my whole self wholly welcomed into the family – my weirdness, my loudness, my dependence on Coke Zero, and my propensity to say “hey y’all” in almost all social settings. I have found a church family that is dedicated, compassionate, just, and kind, in a city of beauty and opportunity, and I love being here with you. 
 
To be sure, this is no small thing. In my experience, there are few places where you can just show up, with all your skills and all your flaws, and throw yourself into the arms of people who already love you enough to catch you. Westminster is one of those rare places where their plan – to be a church “where you’re already home” – is not only theirs, but God’s as well. 
 
So as someone who had barely heard of the Finger Lakes three months ago and would have definitely said “ki-yuga” instead of “kay-yuga,” I want to offer up my sincere thanks to Westminster and to the Auburn community for this unique opportunity to live out God’s wonderful, unexpected, and unplanned-for, plan.
 
Rev. Dr. Stacy Smith is the temporary pastor at Westminster Presbyterian Church. As of a few days before publication, she is very proud to have dipped her feet in all eleven Finger Lakes.

By Daniel Kuhn

Seven years ago, when I read the Citizen column written by the then-new pastor of Westminster Presbyterian Church, I said to my wife Sue, “We have to go and hear this guy.” 

Although we are active members of a church in North Carolina, we live in the Auburn area every May through October. As a retired minister and spouse, we hunger to be part of a church community that truly lives out Jesus' words of love and compassion for all people and for all of God's creation. Too many have been hurt by churches and clergy who twist the words of the Bible into messages of condemnation and hate through their doctrines and judgments. 

In his column, Rev. Heery said, “I'm in love with a God who loved and knew me, without condition, before I could even say the word love. I'm in love with a church – Westminster – which, while by no means perfect, is eager to swing wide its doors and embrace this community.”
It has been refreshing for Sue and me to attend a church that welcomes all people: those without a home; those who live in group homes; those of the LGBTQ community; Blacks, Hispanics, Asians and Whites. After all, these are only human distinctions – God loves all. 

We are, all of us, God's children. That means the God-given task for us is to learn to live with each other as brothers and sisters here and now. As Jesus said, he came to announce the kingdom of God here. Isn't that the meaning of the words in what we call, “The Lord's Prayer:” “Your kingdom come. Your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.”? Recently, a couple at Westminster shared with us that they had left their former congregation because their son, who is gay, was not welcome at it. They found that welcome – that Holy Welcome – at Westminster!

It's a joy to have the solemnity of worship interrupted by the shouts of toddlers and the welcoming wave of one with a speech disorder. At Westminster, it happens beneath the Tiffany chancel window reflecting the words of the Twenty-third Psalm, “He maketh me lie down in green pastures; he leadeth me beside the still waters.” 

Westminster is currently awaiting a new permanent pastor while under the temporary pastoral guidance of the Rev. Dr. Stacy Smith, but its life, love, and worship continue without a hitch. In April, we took part in an adult forum featuring the Owasco Watershed Lake Association. Two months ago, we attended Auburn's annual Pride service, celebrated in the sanctuary, under that Tiffany window. Last month, we joined about fifteen others on the monthly lay-led Contemplative Hike at Green Lakes State Park. This month's hike will be at the picturesque Treman State Park. 

Rev. Heery has departed, but in our experience, the Westminster he loves remains. It is a people, swinging wide the doors, embracing the community with God's love for all. 
​
Westminster Presbyterian Church: “Where you're already home.”

The Rev. Dr. Daniel Kuhn and his wife Sue are permanent residents of North Carolina, but have spent forty-six summers at their property on Owasco Lake with their daughters and now their grandchildren. Dan served congregations in Chili and Liverpool, New York, Troy, Michigan, Nashville, Tennessee, and Elon, North Carolina.

by Jill Fandrich

​Many organizations have slogans. A slogan conveys in just a few words what an organization is all about. It’s meant to be memorable, authentic, and catchy. It projects the image that the organization wants you to associate with it. Slogans are marketing tools. 
 
Should churches have slogans? 
 
My church does. About a year ago, Westminster Church began using the phrase “Where you’re already home” on its bulletins, social media posts, and logo. 
 
In one sense, slogans seem a little “slick” for churches. After all, it’s hard to distill two thousand years of Christian theology, dogma, and identity into a 4-6 word phrase. It might be especially hard for Presbyterians, who tend to love words. Presbyterians are more likely to overexplain things than they are to be concise. But still, we try. 
 
Because we are in an interim period between called pastors, we are doing a lot of self-examination. As we prepare to search for a new pastor, we want to make sure we understand who we are as a church, how we are called to do God’s work, and how we communicate that vision.
 
At a recent “listening session” with the congregation, we talked about our mission statement and our slogan. What does it mean when we say Westminster is a place “where you’re already home”?
 
Let’s break it down word by word. First, “where.” 
 
Westminster is not just its building. It’s more than the physical structure at 17 William St. We know that we can’t sit around and wait for people to come through our doors. Churches need to not only open their doors but also to get outside of them! We know that our church home is more than our building, as beautiful and beloved as it may be. Our home, and our love, extend into the community. God’s love is bigger than the walls of the church. 
 
Next, “you’re.” Who are we talking to when we say you? 
 
Basically, everyone and anyone. Westminster practices radical inclusivity. It is a core value that all God’s children are loved, valued, and respected. For many years, Westminster has had a Welcome Statement which includes this sentence: “We welcome persons of every race, gender, age, sexual orientation, family status, ability, and economic status into full participation in our faith community.” We are a diverse congregation in many ways, and we truly welcome everyone. To be honest, it isn’t always easy. But we work at it.
 
Next, that word “already.” 
 
The concept of “already” is actually a very theological one. We believe that God’s grace is not something we earn; it’s something that’s already been granted us. We believe that we can love one another because God already loves us. We believe that we are claimed as God’s own in baptism because even as infants, we are already a child of God.  So the one word “already” speaks volumes in our slogan. You don’t have to earn acceptance into the church family. You’re already there. 
 
And what about “home”? 
 
Hopefully, home conveys a safe, loving place where you feel like family. Home is relationships and community. Homes are places where you are loved unconditionally, where you can screw up but still be forgiven and welcome. Although sometimes we use the words “house” and “home” synonymously, they are not the same. “Home” can be anywhere one feels safe, loved, secure, and understood.  
 
It's easy for an old-timer like me to feel “at home” at church; I’ve been a Westminster member for 40 years. Many of the folks at our listening sessions, however, are pretty new to the church and it is interesting for me to hear their perspective. Most said that they felt “at home” the first time they came to Westminster and that was why they continued coming. 
 
We want our slogan to be more than a slick marketing tool. We want it to convey an authentic description of who and what Westminster is and strives to be. We want everyone, no matter where they are on their faith or life journeys, to find Westminster to be a spiritual home for them, a place where they feel the love of God and of others.
 
Maybe we should adopt a theme song too! The song from Cheers would be perfect—“Sometimes you want to go where everybody knows your name, and they’re always glad you came.” That’s what we mean by “where you’re already home.” 

by Brian Teucke
Greetings to all lovers of the trail! A few years ago, Westminster’s former pastor Patrick Heery introduced the concept of contemplative hikes. As an avid hiker who personally found God in nature, Patrick organized and led monthly hikes at area parks and trails, communing with nature and the God who created it. These hikes became a popular tradition for many and an important part of our faith lives. Patrick has been called to a new chapter in his ministry and family life, and thus I have the blessing and honor to pick up the torch to keep these hikes going. 
 
As the new coordinator of the contemplative hikes, I’d like to introduce myself and lay out some ideas for the future. My name is Brian Teucke, and I’ve been living in Auburn since October of 2021 with my better half, Ashley. We were blessed with the birth of our first child, Ruairí last year. We are both natives of Morris County, NJ, and have lived in Germany, Kansas (thank you US ARMY), and Virginia prior to coming to Auburn. Currently, I have the honor of working for SEIU Local 200United as a union representative, helping workers here in CNY. Ashley, Ruairí, and I LOVE being in nature. Ashley is very well versed in all types of plant, gardening, and landscaping knowledge and, like me, is a fierce advocate for the environment and climate justice. As for me, my admiration of the trails has blossomed into a love for trail running, racing, and hiking. When I’m not working or running, you can catch me playing Irish music with my Irish Rebel Band, The Connolly Column.
 
While my words will never do it justice, I understand very intimately how special it is to spend time in nature, and in particular, on the trail. Whether it is the life-giving fitness that keeps our bodies healthy, the meditation we can enjoy when immersed in the woods which helps bring health to our minds, or the spiritual connections we experience, these contemplative hikes are something that breathe life, healing, and joy into all of us. That is why it is so important to keep these contemplative hikes going strong!
 
The format of the hikes has worked very well so we’ll keep them the same for now. As they say, “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.” We’ll start with a short devotion or reading, hike the first half in silence, gather at “half time” to reflect, and walk the second half as each sees fit (quietly or in conversation). The hikes are usually about 2-4 miles, and will usually be easy/moderate, with a few challenging ones occasionally. We’ll try to choose trails and parks within an hour’s drive from Auburn.
 
I want all people from all types of backgrounds (including health and fitness levels) to feel welcome and able to join us on contemplative hikes. This group has always been very positive, inclusive, accessible, and welcoming, and I’d like it to remain that way. As part of this pledge, I think this group has the capacity to become a wonderful Christian ministry which, if done in the style of our Westminster family, means that we can share our love of Jesus while also welcoming other faith traditions to come along and join us in a non-denominational setting. 
 
As a union man, I know that organizational democracy is a positive and important part of any group. What I mean by that is I do not want to be a rigid dictator as the new coordinator but rather a guide and facilitator for our adventures in the woods. This means that I invite everyone to share their ideas, concerns, or feedback with me so that this group can head in the direction that we’re all feeling good about. For instance, we might want to try snowshoes this winter or consider sharing a potluck or music following a hike. There are lots of possibilities for expanding this ministry! 
 
Upcoming hikes are: 
Sat, July 22nd, 10:00AM:  Green Lake State Park, Fayetteville 
Sat, August 26th, 10:00AM:  Robert H. Treman Park in Ithaca- Rim and Gorge Loop (4.5 mile loop that is challenging but no doubt my favorite trail and favorite views)
 
We ask for RSVPs (call the church at 315-253-3331) so we know who to expect. Please don’t hesitate to reach out with any ideas, questions, concerns, etc. I’ll see you at the trailhead very soon!
 
Brian Teucke and his family are members of Westminster Presbyterian Church in Auburn. A union representative for SEIU Local 200United, Brian spends his spare time hiking, trail running, racing, playing Irish music, and advocating for environmental and climate justice.
​

by Jill Fandrich
Today, we say goodbye to our pastor, the Rev Patrick Heery. After 7 years at Westminster, Patrick preaches his last sermon in our pulpit this morning, and we officially “dissolve the pastoral relationship” in a congregational meeting following worship. 
 
Patrick moved to Auburn in May 2016, the result of an extensive nationwide search following the retirement of our previous pastor of 14 years, Phil Windsor. A graduate of Princeton Theological Seminary, Patrick was the editor of the denominational magazine Presbyterians Today. He had never led a church before, but we were so impressed by his passion, energy, and intelligence that we called this young man to be our pastor. He and his wife Jenna moved here from Louisville, KY, bought a home, and hit the ground running. He, and we, will never be the same. 
 
A lot can happen in seven years, and we’ve walked side by side with Patrick through all of it. We lost many longtime, beloved members, and many new individuals and families joined us. The Westminster Nursery School, a ministry of our church for over 60 years, closed its doors, and a new educational program began, including a teen drop-in center for LBGTQ+ youth. A longtime tenant, The Rev, moved out, but their move resulted in more space for our ministries and new initiatives in our buildings. New babies arrived and joined the church family, including Emerson and Josephine Heery. The congregation and the Heerys celebrated joys and shared sorrows. We laughed, cried, worshiped, prayed, and worked together. 
 
Oh, and a pandemic happened. In March of 2020, everything shut down, and we had to figure out how to keep being a church in brand new ways. At the very time that people most needed the comfort and support of a church community, we were suddenly unable to gather. We quickly (within a week) figured out how to worship online. For over a year, Patrick sat in front of his office laptop on Sunday mornings, a solitary person leading worship with an online community that grew over the course of the pandemic. We learned how to hold meetings on Zoom, support each other remotely, and continue to be a church community. Eventually, we cautiously began to gather again, while continuing to include online and hybrid ways to participate. Westminster actually grew during these hard times, finding new ways to be church in person and online.
 
We are still finding our way in this brave new world, and now we’ll be looking for a new pastor to walk the walk with us. Just as Patrick is called to move on to a new phase of his life, so is the church. Patrick’s journey takes him and his family to his hometown of Cincinnati, where they will live with his father-- Patrick concentrating on being a son and a dad, and Jenna pursuing her career in ministry. Where will Westminster’s next steps take us? 
 
Westminster Church in Auburn has a unique identity shaped by its his long history. It is a church founded in 1862 over the abolition of slavery, and the call for social justice has remained constant through today. It has historically supported children, education, equal rights, rich and vibrant worship, and full inclusion of all in the life and work of the church. And although the church is constantly changing, with people and leaders coming and going, it maintains a consistent identity because of the priorities which have been important throughout its history.
 
Presbyterians govern themselves in a unique way, believing that God’s voice is best heard through collective discernment. Authority does not lie with a single individual, not even the pastor.  Community and communal decision-making are important. As one of our curriculum says, we believe there’s more Holy Spirit in a bunch of us than in any single one of us.
 
Since Patrick announced his departure in February, I’ve been reminded of a poignant story in the Old Testament. Moses, who led the Israelites out of Egypt and wandered with them for 40 years, never got to enter the promised land. He glimpsed it from a nearby mountain, but passed the torch of leadership to Joshua to lead the Israelites into their new home.
 
Westminster and Auburn will miss Patrick dearly, and we are exceedingly grateful for his time with us. But Westminster is not his church nor is it our church. It is God’s church, and God is still with us, calling us forward. 

by Rev. Patrick David Heery

As I prepare to say goodbye to Auburn, I’ve been reflecting back on the past seven years. One of the great joys of being a pastor is spending time each week with God in Scripture, on walks and in nature, in prayer and study, in conversations with people both hurting and rejoicing. Though my sermons rarely live up to the vision in my head (or better yet, my heart), I am thankful to have had the opportunity to share glimpses of the thoughts and feelings that drive me in my ministry and continually make me fall in love with God. In parting, I share a few of those glimpses here. Whatever wisdom they possess is not my own. Whatever fault, I ask your forgiveness.

1. I know why the caged God sings. The caged God sings of freedom.

With homage to Maya Angelou, I wonder if we’ve trapped God in our own small ideas about who God is and is not. Open the cage. Witness the mystery. Stand in awe. Listen. Be open to the ongoing revelation.

2. God is not a puppet-master. God is a parent.

Why do bad things happen? Job’s friends were wrong: it’s not punishment, it’s not a divine plan. It’s that God has created the world with a freedom that allows for the most beautiful things and the most terrible. This is what it means to be a parent—to love something so hard that you give yourself entirely to it and then let it be free, even if it breaks your heart. What God does promise is that God will be there, when the bad things happen, to pick us up.

3. It’s not Jesus if he doesn’t have scars.

I have always been struck by the fact that the resurrected Jesus still bears the scars where they hurt him. Our wounds are not things to cover up. They are a part of us. They are a well from which we draw compassion and insight. What the world needs is disciples like Thomas who are willing to run their fingers along the edges of wounds and embrace vulnerability.

4. This is what makes church special: not that we’re perfect, but that we don’t have to be.

We—messy and holy—are the church. We may frustrate or disappoint each other, but we stand together, knowing that we will be transformed into something holy, not when we hide the mess, but when we show it.

5. We are given a weekly bus pass back to Eden. And we call that bus pass Sabbath.

God has given us a way to experience life as it was intended: unhurried, shared, joyful, and relished in every detail. Sabbath is anything that brings you closer to God, to community, to self, and to the earth.

6. Want joy? Help somebody!

Instinct tells us that when we’re struggling, that’s the time to hunker down and focus on ourselves. But the opposite is true. That’s the time to reach out. Do something that takes you out of yourself and reorients you to something bigger.

7. People who know each other will care about each other, and people who care about each other will stand up for each other.

When we take the time to really listen and see each other, when we witness each other’s humanity—our dreams, our heartbreaks—we begin to create change.

8. Humility is the greatest answer we have to overcoming our racism and any other privilege or prejudice.

When our biases are revealed to us, we can either indulge our pride and say, “Not me! Never!”, or we can follow Jesus and reconcile the truth of ourselves to the hope of ourselves. We can non-defensively listen, repent, grow, and act. We can answer the call for love and healing, not as a threat, but as an invitation from a sibling in God.

9. It’s not about who you love. It’s about how you love.

Gay or straight or queer, what matters in Scripture is that we love in such a way that honors the image of God in the other: with respect, kindness, mutual consent, patience, forgiveness, generosity, and commitment.

10. Always say “goodbye” as if you were saying “hello.”

In every goodbye, there is a promise: “I will see you again.” But for now, you need this space for what will emerge in the absence. In everything that ends there is an opening for God to meet you and create something new.

Rev. Patrick David Heery is the pastor of Westminster Presbyterian Church and the former editor of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.)’s denominational magazine Presbyterians Today. A graduate of Princeton Theological Seminary, Patrick lives in Auburn with his wife Jenna, their children Emerson and Josephine, and their dog, spending much of their free time hiking the countryside.

by Jill Fandrich
​For churches that follow the Common Lectionary (a 3-year cycle of readings from the Bible), the Sunday after Easter (today!)  presents the same story every year. It tells of the disciple Thomas who refused to believe that Jesus was risen without physical proof. The other disciples told Thomas that Jesus had returned from the dead, but Thomas was a skeptic. It is from this story that we have the term “Doubting Thomas.”

The story of Thomas is found in John 20, and goes like this: After his crucifixion and resurrection, Jesus appeared to some of his disciples and friends. The other disciples told Thomas they had seen Jesus. He replied, “Unless I see the nail marks in his hands and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe.” Eight days later, Thomas was in a closed room with the other disciples when Jesus appeared and greeted them with “Peace be with you.” Jesus invited Thomas to touch his wounds, and Thomas immediately declared, “My Lord and my God!” (the first to call Jesus this). The passage ends with Jesus saying to Thomas, “You have seen me and so you believe, but blessed are they that have not seen and yet have believed.”

I can relate to Thomas, and I find it reassuring that this story is told every year the week after Easter. Easter is a wonderful holiday, celebrating the central belief of Christian faith that Christ’s resurrection means resurrection for all of us. It’s great to see our churches filled with spring flowers and with people celebrating new life, wearing their best clothes and singing “Hallelujah!” hymns. But Easter doesn’t stand alone. There’s a very dark story that leads up to it, and in the weeks that follow, it’s not very glorious either. Jesus’ closest friends are afraid and skeptical and wonder what all this means. In a short time, Jesus will leave again. Then what will his followers do? How can they go on without him?

Thomas’ incredulity is probably more common than most Christians admit. I was raised in a church that didn’t allow much room for questions or doubt. By high school, my personal doubts made me feel guilty, like I didn’t have enough faith to believe the way I thought I should. In college, I was exposed to a wonderful variety of other traditions through the freshman requirement of two semesters of Philosophy and Religion. I loved it! P&R 101/102 opened my mind to many ways people have tried to answer the Big Questions—Is there a God? Why are we here? What is beyond this life?

By the time I returned to church as a young adult, I sought one which would welcome questions, acknowledge the inconsistencies in the Bible, accept that everyone needs to find their own path, and encourage people to have hard conversations with each other. I was lucky to have found churches like this, including Westminster. My faith has changed over the years and continues to.

One of the things I like about the Thomas story is that Jesus doesn’t rebuke Thomas for his skepticism. In fact, he anticipates it. Jesus holds out his hands to show Thomas the scars and invites Thomas to touch his wounds. He meets Thomas where he is and acknowledges his doubts and incredulity. He understands that Thomas struggles to understand.

And yet Jesus also says, “Blessed are they that have not seen and have believed.” Two millennia later, Christians are asked to believe in the promise of the resurrection without physical evidence. One of my favorite writers, Madeliene L’Engle wrote, “Faith is for that which lies on the other side of reason. Faith is what makes life bearable, with all its tragedies and ambiguities and sudden, startling joys.” So faith means accepting the ambiguities, the inconsistencies, the doubts, and the questions, living in the tension of unknowing in order to try to know.

Because I’m active in my church, people sometimes say to me, “You have such strong faith!” I usually smile and accept what they mean as a compliment, but in my mind I think, “Oh if you only knew!” I can’t say I’m a person of strong faith, but I am a person of great hope. And that is good enough, as it was for Thomas.

by the Rev. Patrick Heery
(published in the Auburn Citizen March 19, 2023)

​When I arrived in Auburn seven years ago, I wrote my first article for The Citizen, saying, “This place is going to change me. It’s going to show me God.”

In that time, I have pastored my first congregation, Westminster Presbyterian Church. I have become a father to two beautiful children whom we adopted and to six others in heaven. I have learned the lakes, woods and waterfalls of this verdant country. I have enjoyed the hospitality of neighbors, movies in the park, and the fairs and festivals that so evoke Americana. I have walked in the footsteps of Harriet Tubman, William Seward and a history brimming with the ongoing fight for equal rights. I have witnessed the creation of LGBTQ Pride Week and the drop-in center for teens, Pride House. I have had the privilege of touching many hands — in sharing food at a soup kitchen, in praying over the dying, in officiating weddings and baptisms, in rehoming victims of domestic violence, in counseling the grieving, in kneeling for George Floyd and the insistence that Black Lives must matter.

Much has happened — more than I can name here. But, among it all, what remains with me the most is the love of the people. You. I’m talking about a people whose lives are busy and full of problems of their own, and yet who again and again show up for each other, to care for one another.

Oh I’ve seen plenty of the bad too. I am a Presbyterian minister (a Calvinist ... ooh) after all. I’m well aware of our sinful capacities for selfishness, hate and cynicism. I was there when they tried to ban the book "All Boys Aren’t Blue," when someone vandalized our Black Lives Matter banner, when we were collecting school supplies for children and people walked past us, refusing to donate, when more pews were empty than full on Sunday morning, and when more and more of our neighbors fell to poverty, homelessness, addiction and mental health challenges.

In each case, however, love refused to cease its song. For, I have also seen a school board meeting crowded with people defending free speech and the power of learning each other’s stories. I have seen, in the wake of one vandalized sign, hundreds more appear in the lawns and storefronts of Auburnians. I have seen the smiles of children as volunteers distribute more than 500 backpacks stuffed with school supplies. I have seen passionate worship and the curious, delightful wrestling with the questions of our faith. I have seen suffering people walk through the doors of our church, and volunteers greet them as if Jesus Christ himself had just entered.

In short, this place has changed me. It has shown me God. For, God is Love. And now that God of Love is taking me elsewhere. I will be concluding my time as Westminster’s pastor.

When my Mom died three years ago of a sudden heart attack at 69, it hit home to me the fragility of life. Though I rationally knew otherwise, I think I assumed that my family would always be there — or at least be there longer. I am reminded of the charge my pastor in Cincinnati would speak at the end of each service, based on the words of Henri Frédéric Amiel: “Friends, life is short, and we do not have much time to gladden the hearts of those who make the journey with us. So be swift to love, and make haste to be kind.”

This summer, my family and I will be moving in with my Dad, in Cincinnati, to care for him. We will be closer to family. Emerson and Josephine will get to know their grandparents, cousins, aunts and uncles more deeply. Jenna will get to focus on her vocation and career, as she will be the one this time pursuing full time ministry. I’ll be focusing on being a father and being a son. This will be a time for growing closer to my Dad, helping him with the house and his health, and grieving together. I might do some writing, some volunteering. I am looking forward to worshiping as a family. And then, when the time is right, I’ll discern what ministry God is calling me to next. But for now, I am excited to dwell in the holiness of relationships, to be swift in the same love I have experienced here in Auburn.
​
I will miss you. A lot. I find hope, however, in the thought of all the people (yes, even the pastors) you will change and show God. I find hope in the God of Love who remains here, waiting for the next person to arrive.