Monthly Archives: February 2016

He Said ‘Yes’

27 Saturday Feb 2016

Posted by in Caring, Church, Death, People

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When I asked him to continue working with the children in a puppet theater project, he said yes.

When I asked him to use some of his precious vacation time to accompany the youth on a canoeing and service week to Shannondale Community Center, he said yes, and I said, of course, his wife Jeri could accompany us. This happened several years in a row.

When I asked him to help raise funds for the youth trips with carwashes, suppers, and garage sales, he said yes.

When I asked him to help clean up, paint, and refurbish the old stage at Zion (that hadn’t been used for many years), and help direct stage plays for dinner theaters, with the youth as actors and servers, to again raise funds for youth activities, he said yes.

When I asked him to work on preparations for peace-themed worship services at Zion he said yes.

When I asked him to dress in a Roman toga and serve as the master of ceremonies at a “Latin Banquet” addressing the theme of Zion’s participation in programs and projects of civic responsibility in the community, he said yes.

When I asked him to serve as the chair of audio-visual service at Zion, working with and replacing our equipment, videotaping services and weddings, and training others to serve in that way also, he said yes.

When I asked him to serve as chair of the social action committee for Southeastern Association of the United Church of Christ, he said yes, and he continued thereafter to say yes, serving in many other leadership roles in the association.

When I asked him to substitute for me in preaching and leading worship at Zion, he said yes.

When I asked him to engage in dialogue sermons, interrupting my sermon-in-progress with key questions and observations, or in other ways providing an unexpected and interesting sermon event, he said yes.

When I asked him to help teach a nine month confirmation class he said yes.

When St John UCC north of Burlington had a pastoral vacancy and asked him to serve them he said yes.

When a new program for training lay ministers, CENTER/LEARN, became available, and he had a chance to deepen his understanding of ministry, even though he was working full time for the railroad and serving a church “on the side,” and hundreds more hours would be required over a three year period, he said yes.

When his ministry at St John came to an end and he was seeking another way to serve the church and use his talents, I asked him to lead a third worship service at Zion aimed primarily at young couples with children attending concurrent church school classes, with a minimal honorarium for his services, and he said yes.

When I asked him to renew his license to minister, signing a contract with the association, even though he no longer had a call to one church but was willing to serve any church in pulpit supply or other needs, and even though he faced opposition from some of the ministers who did not think that request was appropriate, he said yes.

When there was a pastoral vacancy at St Paul Church, West Burlington, and I proposed that he, Jim Ritters, and I form a team to serve as their interim ministry for a year, he said yes.

When West Burlington St Paul invited him to return to their ministry part-time when their pulpit was again vacant he said yes, and when St Paul UCC in Donnellson invited him to serve there he said yes.

And when Dean Moberg said yes, he followed through and did what he said he would do, and did not only what was expected, but much more and as well if not better than just about anyone could do it.

So, when asked a few days ago if he would continue to serve as a messenger, and whisper in people’s ears that need encouragement that every day is a gift from God, and every person you meet is a potential friend, and patience is indeed a virtue, and a sense of humor is a requirement not an option, and other essential truths, he said yes, and when asked to appear in people’s dreams and talk about nearly everything up to and including the steadfast loving-kindness of our God, he said yes, of course. He would and he did, and he will keep doing it.

To Hide from Storms at Shannondale

05 Friday Feb 2016

Posted by in Events, Life along the River, Nature, People

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cropped-rock-creek-wilderness-oregon.jpg

We were camping at Shannondale, and I made arrangements for our group to take an evening tour of Round Spring Cave, courtesy of the National Park Service staff. The only problem was that the number of tour participants was limited, and we had one more person with us than the available slots for the tour. Art Klein had stayed at camp, and another youth or two, who were not fond of caves, had stayed with him. Dean Moberg volunteered to stay above ground and let the rest of us go on this spelunking adventure. He had gone before, and, although there is always more to see in such a dynamic and complex cave, he was willing for the rest of us to enjoy it this time. There would be another trip and another opportunity to tour the cave.

As the time for the tour approached we gathered near the cave entrance, and Ranger Ruth entertained us with some colorful stories from the area lore about sinkholes, caves, and Ozark culture, and we were glad to be in the cave overhang area when the rain began. Still, Dean dutifully stayed outside when the rest of us followed our guide into the cave. Some of our group were a bit jealous of Dean’s choice during our squeeze through the narrow channel of the first hundred yards, as uncountable numbers of bats flew past our ears on their way outside for the evening’s mosquito harvest.

Dean, meanwhile, returned to the parking lot and our cars and observed the onset of a powerful windstorm, maybe even a tornado, wondering whether the wind would do more than scatter tree limbs and branches and rock the car that was his only available shelter.

An hour or so later our group emerged to a different environment, with evidence of the storm all around us. Dean greeted us and assured us that everything was all right, although he had wondered for a while whether he would be blown away. We returned to our campsite and found the tents in various degrees of collapse and disarray, which Art and his crew had tried unsuccessfully to remedy. We decided to take advantage of Shannondale’s more dependable shelter for another night, grateful that most of us had been able to spend the time of the storm oblivious to the world outside and enjoying the amazing and utterly quiet world below.

We were grateful, too, to those who had braved the elements on our behalf. We could always count on Dean and Art.

One More ‘Stupidest Things I Have Ever Done’

04 Thursday Feb 2016

Posted by in Events, Faith, Learning from mistakes, Life along the River, People

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Rock Creek Wilderness, Oregon

Returning to Shannondale along the Current River in Missouri was one of my fond dreams when I came to Zion Church in Burlington. Dean Moberg said that he also was eager to return, with his pleasant memories of getting to court his wife-to-be at that camp. Therefore, we planned a trip with Dean and Jeri, Art Klein, and several fine high school young people. We camped at Peaceful Point at Shannondale the first couple of days, did a service project—cleaning up and painting some camp facilities, and proceeded to canoe the river, putting in at Cedar Grove, canoeing to Pulltite in the morning, and reaching Round Spring in the late afternoon, a  twenty-mile trip  on the first day.

That year I had suggested  that we  do what I had done with other groups earlier, which was to carry food and gear with us in canoes, stay overnight on the river at one of the campgrounds or gravel bars, and canoe the next day another twenty miles to Two Rivers. The Current River’s… well…fast current, of course, had enabled this ambitious agenda with groups that were largely novices, as well as heavy rains on the days prior to previous trips. On this year of return, the river was quick, but not so quick, and the rains that came, came on the second day of our planned canoeing.

The second day opened gray and overcast, but seemingly warm enough, so “we” decided to go ahead with our planned trip, all the way to Two Rivers. (I don’t know if my enthusiasm was operative in the “we” or whether it was really a consensus.) We hadn’t been on the river more than ten minutes when the rain began, and, at first, it was gentle and warm. Not very long afterwards, it ceased to feel warm . Most of our group did not bring raingear. We stopped at a rock overhang and brought out the box of large garbage bags (along with duct tape, the other requirement for any trip we planned). At least everyone had an improvised raincoat for the rest of the trip. In addition to the dampness, the temperature began to fall.

Finding another rock overhang with just enough space for all of our group, and everyone beginning to be both tired and cold, we stopped for lunch.  We needed a break from paddling, the energy from the food and drink we had packed for the trip, and also warmth from somewhere. My matches were wet, but, fortunately we had smokers with us. Art used his lighter and the few items that were still dry to get a smoky fire going, providing just enough warmth to thaw us out a little, when we took turns standing near it.

We had no choice but to continue downriver. There was no place to pull out of this section of the river until we had paddled ten more miles to Two Rivers, where there was a store and a phone to reach our Shannondale driver, who would pick us up and save us from ourselves.

Our only hope to avoid hypothermia was to paddle like the devil and avoid the usual tipping of the canoes. Since these seemed too much to hope for, our only hope really was to pray like the…saints, even if we weren’t.

Never was I happier to have three determined adult helpers and a mostly good-natured and forgiving group of high school young adults. Together, urging each other on, we made it. When we finally reached Two Rivers and our Shannondale helper picked us up, I hurried to rent the Goat Barn for our overnight accommodations, instead of setting up our wet tents. We made liberal use of the hot showers and established the custom of closing our canoe trip with a visit to Salem’s Pizza Hut.

(Some readers may offer corrections to this memory and life-lesson; they are welcome!)