THIS SUNDAY WAS A SPECIAL SERVICE OF CELEBRATION AND RECOGNITION FOR REV. CARLEEN GERBER’S 42 YEARS OF SERVICE TO THE CHURCH.
SIX REFLECTIONS WERE OFFERED:
The Rev. David W. Good was FCCOL Senior Minister for 37 years until 2012,
and is now our Minister Emeritus.
Angel Vernon has been a member of our senior choir and led our Senior High
youth group for many years. She travelled with a group to South Africa back in
1988 at the very beginning of our partnership with the Methodist Churches of
Southern Africa.
Diane Claussen is a church member, sings in the senior choir and heads our South
Africa Partnership Committee.
Mxolisi Duda is a native of South Africa and between 2002 and 2010 he earned
music degrees from the Hartt School of Music and the New England Conservatory
under FCCOL sponsorship. He is now the Director of the Ovuwa Choir and a
professor of music at the University of Pretoria, South Africa. [No printed text – audio only]
The Rev. Paul Verryn is a Bishop of the Methodist Church of Southern Africa
and is devoted to projects of social justice in that country. Paul has been our
steadfast partner since 1988. [No printed text – audio only]
The Rev. Dr. Steven Jungkeit is our Senior Minister
*******************************************************
Rev. David W. Good
On the Sunday before Thanksgiving in 1976, less than a year into my ministry here, I received a phone call that our long time organist had died. I confess I was panicked. Without an organist, especially going into the Holiday season, what on earth would we do!
However, I couldn’t believe how fortunate we were when we learned that Carleen had just recently returned to Lyme.
I learned that Carleen had been the valedictorian of both Lyme/Old Lyme High School and Wheaton College in Massachusetts where – and get this! – She majored in organ, and she was the principal organist for the university!
Upon hearing this, and having endured a couple of guest organists, I was ready to hire her, sight unseen. But the chairman of our music committee, being more than a wee bit high handed (Joan Kratzert can back me up on this!) wanted Carleen to offer an audition, and then he had the audacity to offer Carleen the position but said that it would “only be provisional, depending upon how well things went.”
Needless to say, and for those of you who know Carleen this won’t come as any surprise, even at 27 years of age, she made it quite clear to this “elder statesman of our church” that, in fact, it would be just the other way around. She’d help us through the holidays and then she would evaluate whether or not she would continue.
I can’t tell you how glad and grateful I am that our church passed that audition!
In Carleen, we would soon discover that we had both a phenomenal musician, but also, I couldn’t have imagined such an extraordinary partner in ministry. In Carleen I would find a kindred spirit, a camaraderie and friendship I never would have thought possible.
When Jesus commissioned the disciples, he sent them out 2 by 2, and if I had the honor of being in that line up, I would feel inadequate to the challenge without Carleen standing with me, side by side.
1988 would prove to be a pivotal year for both Carleen and our church. As part of my sabbatical, I decided to take part in a Plowshares Institute traveling seminar to South Africa, led by Bob Evans, Jim Forbes and Walter Wink. I invited church members to join me. While several considered it, only Carleen signed on for this immersion experience in apartheid South Africa.
There are far too many incredible experiences to share with you here, but I’d like to choose just one that would prove to be a pivotal experience for both Carleen and our church.
We had met with mothers whose children had been shot and killed in the Soweto uprising. We met a young man who had been tortured by the South African police, and when we asked how he could smile so beautifully, he said that the forces of apartheid had wounded his body but he would never allow them victory over his soul. We had met Paul Verryn for the first time, and we had learned how he had courageously offered sanctuary in his home in Soweto for boys who had been detained and tortured by the South African police.
And now we were standing in Katlehong, what was called a “squatters village” back then, later known euphemistically as an “informal settlement.” Whatever it was called, it was humbling and a staggering experience to stand there amongst all the rubble and at one and the same time see humanity at its very worst but also, its very best.
Living under apartheid, the people who lived there never knew when the authorities would come and bulldoze their make shift homes, built out of black plastic garbage bags, rubble and sticks. And yet, there they were, exemplifying the most extraordinary dignity of spirit we had ever witnessed. And, there was Carleen, in the midst of it all, heartbroken and shaking like a leaf.
Katlehong and Old Lyme are separated by thousands of miles, but it’s significant to remember what was born out of that experience.
I remember hearing Carlyle Marney say, “yes, you will know the truth and the truth will set you free, but it will make you shiver before it sets you free”
Or, as Jean Paul Sartre said, “human life begins on the far side of despair.”
I’d like to suggest that a new life of ministry for Carleen and this church began “on the far side of despair.” … on the far side of all that shivering and shaking in Katlehong.
Carleen came back home energized and determined to pursue her theological education with the University of South Africa, the same place where Nelson Mandela received his degree.
An extraordinary education in which she would learn and, in turn, pass on to our church, such South African gifts as the notion of “Ubuntu, Ubuntu.” Our South African visitors can explain this better than I, but as I understand it, it means that my humanity is intimately and inextricably connected to your humanity. In our highly individualistic and too often narcissistic culture, I can’t think of a better gift to be brought to our church than this notion. In the deepest possible sense, we need each other in order to become the children of God we were destined to become.
Carleen came back determined to help us as a congregation confront our own demons of apartheid, racial discrimination and poverty. She helped us forge a partnership with the Storefront School in Harlem, set in motion what would become our weekly food pantry and soup kitchen ministry, instituted our “No Room at the Inn” program in which our young people would sleep outside in the cold, to experience at least for one night the plight of those who are homeless.
Also, having witnessed the power that music played in the struggle against apartheid, she hit upon the “crazy and extraordinarily brilliant idea of bringing over a 60-member choir from Central Methodist Mission in Johannesburg, and that, in turn, eventually gave rise to the blessing of having Mxolisi and his magnificent choir here today.
An all-important footnote to today’s magnificent music is what Carleen experienced in Katlehong in 1988. If the bible begins with the book of Genesis, I’d like to suggest that all these gifts have their genesis in Carleen’s transformative experience in South Africa.
I’m so glad to see that the choir will be singing Carleen’s beautiful composition based on the poetry of Emily Dickinson. For me, it’s one of the most exquisitely meaningful and beautiful compositions I have heard.
If I can stop one heart from breaking,
I shall not live in vain.
If I can ease one Life the aching
Or cool one Pain
Or help one fainting Robin
Unto his Nest again
I shall not live in Vain.
This poem epitomizes Carleen’s pastoral ministry among us.
At hospitals, nursing homes, and when members of our church and total strangers have been near death, when we’ve experienced emotional turbulence, when we’ve felt lost or forsaken; when we’ve struggled with feelings of inadequacy or failure, we all have been blessed by Carleen’s compassion, wisdom, gentle kindness, wisdom and words or reassurance. I know, because I’ve been there myself, on the receiving end of her ministry.
I would suspect we all know what it’s like to be a robin fallen from its nest. So, thank you, Carleen, for your ministry among us. On behalf of all of us “fallen robins”, thank you for making this a place where we all can feel at home.
Angel Vernon
I Dwell in Possibility
By Emily Dickinson
I dwell in Possibility –
A fairer House than Prose –
More numerous of Windows –
Superior – for Doors –
Of Chambers as the Cedars –
Impregnable of eye –
And for an everlasting Roof
The Gambrels of the Sky –
Of Visitors – the fairest –
For Occupation – This –
The spreading wide my narrow Hands
To gather Paradise –
Whenever I read or hear the very first line of this poem, “I dwell in Possibility”, I think of Carleen. Not only because of the beautiful musical composition she wrote setting the words of Emily Dickinson to music; but mostly because, well… that is just simply how I think of Carleen…. As one who dwells in possibility.
I think of the way she helped a somewhat shy, insecure, young woman find her voice…not only in the choir… but as a person of faith. With Carleen’s musical direction, I discovered a confidence in my ability to sing…she believed in the potential within me…and with her friendship, I found myself opening to new pathways along the journey of my life. Following an invitation from David Good, Carleen encouraged me to embark on an immersion experience to Nicaragua with Plowshares Institute in 1985. But most importantly, she actively listened to me as I returned from that life-altering event…Carleen helped me to embrace the possibilities that were now offered to me based on this spiritual transformation.
I think of the way she envisioned the possibility of a warm and beautiful home on the shore of Hamburg Cove. As we spent days tearing down decades upon decades’ worth of old wallpaper and horse hair plaster, we would share countless cups of coffee and long conversations about family, friendship and purpose of being…while gazing out upon the diamonds glimmering on the waters of the cove.
I think of the way she carefully and thoughtfully explored the possibility of how a trip to Green Grass, South Dakota…in fact, a 24-hour non-stop drive in a minivan filled with children, Diane Claussen and myself…would plant a seed of companionship and community.
I think of the way she envisioned the possibility of exploring more of this world and faithfully traveled to South Africa with David through Plowshares in 1988…and allowed herself to be transformed by the spirit of the people of South Africa. And I think of how she wanted to share that experience with those of us here at this church and so, along with David, led a small group of us back to South Africa the next year. She envisioned the possibility of a closer relationship halfway around the world…a spiritual connection…a true partnership with our brothers and sisters overseas…. seeing the possibility of not only justice and reconciliation…but of friendship and hope…. a transformation which opened her to the broader possibility of entering seminary herself.
I left Old Lyme shortly after Carleen began her studies, to go off on my own journey…so I have not experienced her ordained ministry these past 25 years…however; I can testify wholeheartedly that the Spirit of God has been present in the life and friendship shared with her. In all of these moments, and indeed, countless others, Carleen allowed herself to take a chance…to be willing to look beyond the surface – to seek the beauty and gift within each experience and each person….to encounter opportunities for growth, to find courage in the midst of uncertainty, and to give rise to the endless possibility within each one of us.
I know that I dwell in possibility, as do many of you, because Carleen dwells in possibility…and we are all the better for that dwelling place
.Diane Claussen
Good morning, or as we have been used to saying every morning while in Mexico, buenos dias.
I have to say, the last 35 years of my life would have been pretty boring if I hadn’t joined the choir so many years ago. I lived in Salem then and would hitch a ride with Carleen to Weds. night choir practice—she was the choir director then, and that was the beginning of a long friendship. I don’t consider myself particularly adventuresome but can be talked into things fairly easily. Carleen can be a very persuasive woman–a force to be reckoned with when she sets her mind to something. I have been convinced to sleep out in front of the church in a cardboard box to show the P.F. kids (and me as it turned out) what it’s like to be homeless in the dead of winter. She came up with that idea, and let me tell you, by 3:00 a.m., as I am freezing in my wind tunnel of a refrigerator box and praying for daylight, I am thinking this was a really terrible idea! But it did bring home her point.
In 1989, she and David organized the first trip from our church to South Africa, which was still under apartheid rule. I remember she said to me, “Diane, you’ve got to do this. It will be amazing and you’ve got to meet Paul Verryn.” We were a small group, including Lauren Gerber who was only 16. It was amazing trip alright—we were robbed of pretty much everything our third day there, but we journeyed on, led with courage and conviction, by Carleen and David. The people we met and the things we saw were life-changing for me, and that trip laid the foundation for a partnership that has lasted going on 30 years. One of the highlights of that partnership was the bringing over of 52 members of the choir of Central Methodist, Paul’s church at the time. Amazingly, Carleen not only came up with the idea but somehow managed to pretty much single-handedly raise the money, about $75,000 to bring the choir members here in 2003. It was a wonderful two weeks for everyone, and who can forget that first Sunday morning when they came singing down the center aisle of the church with M’Kolisi’s magnificent tenor voice coming in at the very end? And now, he is here again for the third time with another 26 students–that’s 130 singers from South Africa in the last 15 years! And we have Paul with us again this morning is here as well! It’s a good day!
I remember when we took a group of P.F kids on a work trip to Americus, Georgia, and how Carleen was so surprised that we got the Habitat guest house so easily. After working a couple of days in the unbelievable heat and humidity of Georgia in August, it became painfully obvious why no one in their right mind would volunteer that time of year! Not to mention that Habitat doesn’t believe in using machines to dig foundations in hard Georgia clay or to break up cement sidewalks, only humans! That’s how our little Faye got her nickname “Sledge”. But the kids loved it and were amazing workers.
Another early trip we went on together with two of our kids, was to Green Grass in 1990. Emily Gerber was the same age as Steve and Rachel’s Elsa is now and my son Phillip was 17. We went by van, driving pretty much straight through—Angel was awed by Chicago at sunrise but also terrified of the traffic, and Carleen hit snow in Minnesota. I obliterated a prairie chicken and gave myself the Indian name “Diane Killing Bird”. Finally, we rolled into Eagle Butte. Phillip had won some foam dice in one of those claw games at a truck stop along the way, so we hung them in the van and dubbed ourselves the Holy Rollers!
As those of you have done it knows, taking our children on these experiential trips is one of the best gifts we can give them, and, as it turns out, to the folks we visit, as well it seems. I have just returned from our visit to Mexico. Steve took Elsa who is 9 and Carleen newly turned-13-year-old grandson, Leland, was with us as well. We stayed at Guadalupe House, a retreat Center and home to a sister order to the Benedictine brothers at the Westin Priory in Vermont. We fell in love with the sisters, who are who are of Mayan descent and quite small. Most speak little or no English, but thankfully, we had Deb and D and my daughter-in-law, Amanda, with us who could speak Spanish. These women live a very simple life, dedicated to working hard and serving the poor. Singing is a major part of their worship, so I didn’t mind that we prayed and mostly sang morning, noon and night! They fed us well, both spiritually and literally, and I think we all came back a few pounds heavier and full of beans! We had such interesting speakers including two young migrants who had made the dangerous trip from Central America and were in a shelter in Cuernavaca. They were determined to try and make it into the United States, despite the risks, so they could make enough money to better the lives of their families back home. We were surprised by a very forward-thinking old priest. Paul told the group his story, and a Canadian woman who had come to Cuernavaca thirty years ago, was a wealth of information about the politics of Mexico, its indigenous people and the impact of the Spanish colonization and Catholicism has had on them. She also was a most knowledgeable guide at Mayan ruins. Our hearts were touched by visits to the poor in communities the sisters have worked with and been a part of for years. We learned so much as they told us about their struggles and saw their amazing ability to work together in community, and we even crashed a fun birthday party complete with mole and tamales, a huge Jell-O birthday cake and the very long Mexican Happy Birthday song. Elsa and Leland charmed everyone with their willingness to participate in most of what we did and found ways to entertain themselves when the talking got a bit too long for them. They will always remember this trip, and I can’t help but think they will be better for it.
Carleen, you have been such an integral part of our church’s partnerships and other trips over the years. You take an idea and then you make it happen. I can’t imagine how my life, the life of this church, would have been without you. As a line from a song the Benedictine brothers sing goes, “Life is a journey we walk together, hand in hand with our sisters and brothers”, and I couldn’t have had a better travel companion on that journey, than you, Carleen.
Mxolisi Duda – Audio only
Rev. Paul Verryn – Audio only
Steve Jungkeit
A record producer and musician named T Bone Burnett once described his faith this way: “I don’t want to get stuck singing songs about ‘seeing the light’ forevermore. I’m less interested in figuring out the light itself, and far more interested in what the light allows me to see.” It’s a wonderful formulation for all of us who take faith seriously, for all of us who care about this elusive reality we call God. Perhaps what the light of God allows us to see is far more important than getting a definitive handle on the light itself. It’s true, the light is a gift, but wouldn’t it be foolish to concentrate solely on the particles of light, only to miss the world as revealed by that light?
I share that because it’s also a good way of approaching these reflections about Carleen. Over the past month, as word about this service has trickled out, she’s offered that she’s more than a little uncomfortable being in the spotlight, and I can and do appreciate that. And so maybe the way to frame all that we’ve done this morning is to say that yes, Carleen, it’s you and all of your many gifts that we’re honoring. But perhaps what we’re also honoring is what your ministry, what your witness, has allowed us to see.
Here’s an important thing you’ve helped us to see: in many church settings it is tempting to reduce faith to pietism alone, which is to say, to make religion a personal matter of the heart, with no public dimension whatsoever. How unbiblical that is. How untheological. How contrary to everything we read about Jesus and the apostles, about Moses and the prophets, to say nothing of the long history of theology! Carleen, you continually remind us of the public dimension of our faith, and that churches have a stake in pursuing the moral and ethical nature not only of our individual lives, but our collective lives as well. You don’t need to go to South Africa to learn that. You don’t need to study the finest theology to emerge from the anti apartheid struggle to discern that. But how fortunate all of us are that you did. How lucky we are that you were permanently shaken by your encounter with poverty and apartheid when you first went to South Africa. How lucky we are that you heeded the call of God that came to you in that moment, rather than filing it away as one more interesting experience. How fortunate we all are that you bypassed and avoided a more conventional seminary experience, because you wished to learn first-hand from the South Africans you had encountered in your travels. And how fortunate all of us are that you’ve remained steadfast in that commitment for so many years now. Faith has a way of turning toward solipsism, toward an inner narcissism of the soul’s individual journey toward God. You remind us, continually, that we’re made for so much more.
But not only that. You also help us to see that it’s the way we love one another, the way we care for one another, that binds a community together. Without that, we are, as Paul reminds us, sounding gongs and crashing cymbals, or as Faulkner and Shakespeare might put it, full of sound and fury, but signifying nothing in particular. I’ve heard you speak, Carleen, of the way our relationships form the collagen, the connective tissue, that hold us together over time. You’re tireless in your visitations, in the notes you write, in the calls you make, in the dinners you host, and in the kindness and gentle wisdom you dispense along the way. I know because for more than five years, I’ve observed it. And I know because I’ve been the recipient of it. There’s so much involved in maintaining an active and healthy congregation, and so far as I can tell, Carleen, you’ve excelled at all of them, from leading a choir and playing the organ, from preaching to mission work, from administration to ministries for children and youth. But it’s that relational, pastoral work that holds it all together. Above all else, you’ve done much to hold it all together.
The final thing I’ll say is more personal by far. One of the most important things I’ve learned from you is that colleagues in ministry can become so much more than colleagues. They can become friends, trusted confidants, and wise companions. I’ve observed the inner workings of churches my whole life, long enough to know that while it is fortunate to get along with everyone on a ministerial staff, it is a rare and precious thing to count colleagues as close friends. Carleen, you have been a friend to me, to Rachael, and to our kids, as you have been to so many of the people gathered in this room. I feel your absence when you are away. And I feel glad whenever you return. In what can feel, at times, like a lonely profession, you have been my community. This church is so fortunate to have your leadership, but I want you to know that I count myself lucky – no, better to say blessed – to have chanced upon an unwavering and generous friend. You have helped our community to thrive. But you have helped me to thrive too. You are a gift.
Let me underscore one final thing. Note the present tense of that last statement. You are a gift. It’s not past tense – were. It’s not past perfect tense – have been. You are. Which is a way of underscoring that even as you transition into part time ministry, you remain a vital part of our community, a vital part of our ministry team, a vital part of what gives this place such energy and life. You are, and shall continue to be, a shining light that helps us to see clearly the wonder and heartbreak of the world around us. You are, and shall continue to be, a light that helps us discern a way of integrity and faith during a confusing time. Above all, you are, and shall continue to be, a beloved friend, accompanying us all along the journey of life. We are all blessed.
In R. J. Palacio’s novel Wonder, the character Augie Pullman says this: “Everybody deserves a standing ovation at least once in their lives.” Carleen, it’s your turn now. Stand up, and take a bow!!
.
