On Opening a Can of Worms

From the time that I accepted the position at Trinity Heights UMC in Flagstaff, Arizona, I began to process my priorities. This was part matter of faith, part preparation for ordination, and part just being human. It wasn’t too awfully long before an order developed: God, family, church. It doesn’t require any particular genius to realize that from the church’s perspective my priorities were out of order. Theologically the church would have been hard pressed to argue with my first and highest priority, but it certainly found fault with my placing family above church. By 1996, Rachel had lived her young twelve years in no less than five different locations. Rebecca had lived in four different places by the time she was ten. Mary had resumed her teaching career in Loup County after nine years of maternity leave, only to be suddenly forced into resignation since it was her intention to follow me to the Tri-Church appointment. Rachel’s health was suffering from her allergies to the mold in the parsonage basement, and I was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis. There was but one doctor practicing in Oakland, so any specialized treatment had to be obtained in West Point, Fremont, or Omaha. I was also suffering from chronic adolescent naiveté (C.A.N.) which mistakenly induced me to believe that I could take these concerns to my district superintendent in confidence with the expectation of some degree of understanding and compassion. Wrong! I learned the hard way that the only thing you talk to an egotist about is her/himself, and Jim Brewer was the quintessential egotist. Once again I had aggravated Jim’s sense of self-preservation, placing myself and my family in ecclesiastical jeopardy.