Steve

Next week is Steve's last week at camp.  I'm going to miss him greatly and I'm not the only one.  Please ask me about this man.  I aspire to be like him one day.  He's moving with his family to Florida to be closer to his wife's parents.  Family comes first.

I think of Steve as a renaissance man, a rail splitter, a pastor, a modern cowboy, a farmer, a dendrologist, the coolest Dad ever (after my Dad),  an architect, a plumber, a teacher, a mentor. I hope I can call him a friend.  He is incredibly patient through all my dumb questions, and all the other dumb questions from others despite his to-do list being so long.  He knows everything.  EVERYthing.  And he'll teach you how to do it, giving you time, attention, and speaking at a level you can understand as long as it takes you to get it.  Want to know about gardening, auto mechanics, metal working, electricity, water treatment, theology, wisdom....? Just ask him.  He's impacted hundreds of Americorps volunteers here whose pictures line the wall in his office.

YAV has put some of the world's most amazing people in my life.  The world changers.  The movers and do-ers.  Ferncliff's director of operations and maintenance, Steve is competitive with Food Pantry and CSA coordinator Jane from last year for the top spot of most influential people in Alex's YAV career.

Steve taught me

• how to drive a tractor and operate the attachments
• how to plow a field
• how to weld
• how to mix concrete by hand and in the mixer
• how to winterize cabins with 70 year old pipes and no electricity
• where not to put the weather station......
• mineral spirits don't need to be mixed in water because they are oil based
• white caulk looks better than clear in most cases
• the concept of a square drill bit
• the difference between an impact driver and a drill
• how to kill and clean a chicken
• how to connect a charge controller to get the solar panel to charge the golf cart
• how to build walls on a flat bed trailer out of scrap wood and used screws
• how to vacuum 1800 cubic feet of weevil-infested rice hulls into that trailer
• how to back up the trailer full of rice hulls
• how to maneuver like Spiderman in the ceiling of the Eco Center with the vacuum to get the rice hulls without falling through the suspended ceiling
• how to build picture frames
• how to mix lime plaster and apply the last coats to the Eco Center walls with David and Luke. (Former gardener Kenny Lackey mixed the first batch, Steve mixed all billion others in between and I mixed the last one).

 
Steve also gave me a few life lessons

• "sometimes you just need the right tool"
• regarding chicken slaughtering: "I don't think God intended for us to enjoy it"
• regarding the Eco Center: "Yes you can build this way, but you really can't on this scale without a lot of help"
• "the people who built it are the most important feature of the Eco Center"
• regarding hole digging and me being clueless about the solar car, "I'll get to that tomorrow, and if you believe me I've got property in Arizona" or something like that
• "we just need somebody that ain't too bright to keep the fire going in that undersized furnace"

Steve showed me just about everything I can think of about Ferncliff's Straw-bale Eco Center.  He imparted to me, a temporary volunteer, a working knowledge of the septic system, the solar panel and battery system, the wood heating system, and the natural convective air flow system.  I picked up some of it, still clueless on most of it.  I even captured a few stories of the many people who's blood sweat and tears forever rest underneath the paint, plaster, mortar, sand and concrete.  Knowledge of such a uniquely sustainable building is invaluable.  He's a walking textbook  on all things construction but he has a mind that thinks of alternatives; ways to recycle old parts and old buildings.  He considers resource use, cost, labor, teach-ability, environmental impact, and even scripture believe it or not into his work and his construction.  "Don't build on sand"  Steve is one of a kind!  

Beyond my interactions with him he runs the water purification system for camp's drinking water, camp's wastewater system, all of the geothermal HVAC systems, solar panels, and like I said before Everything.  Steve is among the kindest, gentilest, and most agile folks I've ever met. He embodies the spirit of Ferncliff.  Steve you will always be loved, missed, remembered, talked about, and welcome by all of us in Arkansas who know you.

As with any goodbye there are some regrets.  I never learned much about Steve's past or his amazing family, although I've met all his kids and his wife at least once.  I wish we had more theological discussions, though I wouldn't replace the technical discussions.  I've become reflective of his departure while throwing him all the questions I can think of for work.  This time last year I learned of my pastor's retirement, my supervisor Ryan took a new job and left me alone until Stacie took over off and on.  Millie, another supervisor moved away.  My close friend Gus had died.  Other church friends have died since then.

People move, leave and die all the time.  That's life.  In the camp and non-profit world things tend to be even more temporary.  I'll be handing in my two month's notice pretty soon.  I think I'm getting a little better at dealing with these transitions.  It still carries sadness, but I know the territory.  Life goes on.  As I did last year I remember the people in my life who have not only left me but deeply impacted me.  Gus, Ryan, Millie, Stacie, Charlie, Parker.  Or the people that  I've left behind and they've impacted me Jane, Maggie, the other Maggie, Flip, John and Stella, Libby, Audrey, Kathleen. I can list hundreds on both lists.

I'm sad to add Steve to this list but very excited to throw him into this mix of the person I aspire to be; pulling from my experience with him and all these others too.  And now I've got an excuse besides Disney World to visit Florida!

For Steve and everyone else on your transition to the new chapters of life:

May the road rise to meet you 

May the wind be always at your back

May the sun shine warmly upon your face

May the rains fall gently upon your fields

Until we meet again, may God hold you in the palm of his hand

The Lord bless you, and keep you.

The Lord make his face shine upon you, and be gracious unto you  

 The Lord lift up his countenance upon you and give you peace.   

Numbers 6:24-26

Encouragement among Church Polity

After you read this please share your most interesting communion or Eucharist story.

My mom's church served communion the day I rode the bus back to Little Rock.  Also that day two new elders were ordained and a third installed on session. One of them was only 16.

I am an elder too.  During services of ordination other elders in the audience are asked to come forward and lay hands on the new elders for the ordination prayer.  S.A Lockridge., Kathleen Phillips, Peggy Ruleman, and some others did that for me and Dorthea during a windy day in March 2007 at Rocky Spring.  I invited a few school buddies to come see me get ordained.  It felt like the roof would blow off the church that day in the wind.    We joked the "spirit was moving"  since spirit and wind are the same word in Hebrew (ruach ר֫וּחַ).  It was a moving time in my faith journey.  I've come so far since then.

As Elder one of my jobs became serving communion at Rocky Spring.  Most often with just six elders we would decide who was serving based on who showed up.  I rarely knew it was a communion day until I got there and S.A. and Kathleen would tell me, "ok Alex, you weren't here last time so it's your turn."  Most of those days I arrived, unshaven, wearing my tennis shoes with my khakis.  Days I forgot my belt, or forgot to put on deodorant.  On those days I felt, "What in the world am I doing? Shouldn't I be looking a little nicer if I'm going to hand out the body of Christ here? I didn't even wear a tie and I've got to carry Jesus.  What if I drop something?"   I can be hard on myself but there was something so sacred about communion I felt like someone else should be doing that rather than little ole Alex who was told at the last minute most of the time.

I often get similar feelings when I visit a church during ordination days and I'm asked to come forward with everyone else to lay on hands.  Some of those days I haven't shaved, or I didn't wear a tie.  Most often with campus ministry and YAV it's at a church where nobody knows who I am, and I'm twenty years younger than everyone else who gets up.  I think, "I shouldn't be here they don't know who I am." This happened again at mom's church last Sunday.

Since I started YAV, I've felt there have been moments when I don't feel like I should be an Elder or missionary, or one of God's leaders.  Times when that "spirit moving" feeling isn't there.  Times when I think others are better suited for the work.  (JONAH........)

There are days I want to give up.  Days when arguments with non-believers have left me exhausted and hung out to dry. Days when people don't understand food justice.  Days I speak up against an issue to fellow YAVs and don't know all the facts but still have an opinion. Days people don't even know what I'm doing. Days I don't know what I'm doing.  Days I'm unorganized and not accomplishing much.  Days people's hospitality of taking me out to lunch supports injustices in our economy and I don't know what to do.

I was thinking about all this after Sunday's service when I heard the new elders talking.  They were kind of jokingly talking about the times they almost messed up communion that very day, when one almost tripped.

My mom, being the pastor chimed in with a story.  "It wasn't as bad as the summer they set up communion the night before and forgot to turn on the air conditioning.  The juice molded in the pitcher over night and the elders had to secretly scrape off the mold after they uncovered it before they served it".

I remembered a time when they ran out of bread and had to hurry back to the kitchen for more.  Mom told of a time when the communion lady forgot the bread entirely and snuck out during the hymn with her brother.  She had him and her husband smuggle the bread in coffee cups during the communion hymn, to pour on the plates before the elders distributed it.  A story came out about the time a guy literally tripped over his two feet and spilled the grape juice everywhere.

In a way these stories were comforting that I never was that bad at serving communion. My guilty feelings of unworthiness were justified.  The stories reminded me, just like all church committee meetings do, that we are human.

We are all people who sometimes forget to wear a tie, shave and clean up.  Sometimes we forget more important things than our appearance.  Sometimes we let the Christ's body get stale or moldy, Often times we are clumsy and we break things, or ruin them.

We don't behave as perfect angels.

God knows that.  God knows we forget. God knows we mess things up. God knows we are clumsy daffy old fools sometimes, and he still loves us for some reason .  Not only does he love us, but he trusts us to carry his body, his blood, and his spirit.  As Elders we literally carry and serve the elements for communion, but as Christians we ALL literally serve Christ to others every day.  God entrusts us with his everything no matter how forgetful, sinful, and destructive we are.

Somehow I think it's working when all this inspires me to put my best foot forward, clean up my own act, and try not to make a fool of myself as I carry God with me.

I still need to forgive myself for the times when I'm unprepared.  And to be ready to serve in those times impromptu style. Times when S.A and Kathleen say it's my turn.  Times when the discussion takes a turn to God and I need to explain faith in a non-proselytizing, non-condemning way that keeps others interested. Times when I see someone who might be needing a prayer.  Times when someone is begging for money and I'm not prepared with cash. Times when Heaven asks us to serve and we're not quite ready.

That's all of us every day. We are given God's body, God's blood, God's life.  And we are to share it. To pass it along.  No matter how silly and awkward we are with it, we've got it in our hands, and we've got to share it.  We're up.

I am an Elder, I am a Christian, I am a YAV, I am someone who believes Jesus is real, and serving God is what I'm here for.  I may trip, I may spill it, I may forget something, but that's my job.

Let's do it. It's where we are.  It's the task before us.  Let us serve God to one another.


Please share a communion or Eucharist story in the comments below.  How does serving communion or taking communion apply to your everyday life?