Carl's Not Calling Today

Carl was a member of the Pilgrim Community of Hope.  I send this series of writings to a “listserv” of people who signed up to receive it.  Readers include people of the Christian faith, the Jewish faith, and, what I would like to call the “discovering faith.” The goal is to stir the faith of the readers, to get people thinking about their faith.  Sometimes I get replies from readers, and sometimes I get cards or personal feedback.  But there was one person on this list who sometimes had to have immediate interaction on an entry. That was Carl. Carl lived on the east coast, in the city of Brotherly Love. He was a retired minister, having served for a long time in a church near “Philly.” After his retirement he spread his ministry about through arts groups and, in particular, working with a church in the city.  This gave Carl confirmation, I think, of the kind of God he had given his life to serve. He saw in the work he did in his later years what it meant to be the church in some wider and deeper way than he had before. 

Carl, being an early riser and living in the east coast, would receive these “Stirrings” as soon as I hit “send”. Sometimes, within several minutes of my hitting the send button the telephone would ring. I would do my best to get to the phone before the ringing would wake up my still sleeping spouse.  And then we would talk. We would talk about that day’s writing and about how Carl thought I was right or wrong in my take on the topic.  It was kind of like getting an immediate grade from a kind professor. And then we talked about life and ministry and politics.  Carl wasn’t much for small talk, so we spent most of our time talking about what it means to be a “pastor” in this crazy world.

Carl’s not calling today.  I’m sad for me and happy for Carl. Carl died and now Carl lives.  During his last calls we talked about his getting ready to die.  He assured me that, as a person of faith gets older, as the body of the person stops being able to do the things the mind wants to do, the person of faith starts yearning for the next life.  It’s not about “giving up”; it’s about “living into” the future, to which the entry door is death.  If I could summarize the lessons Dr. Carl taught me during our calls it would be this: God’s grace enlarges our minds so that at the end of life we worry less about fences and rules and walls-and we focus more on gates and exceptions and ladders.  This is the God Carl learned about until he finally got to meet him.  Our little Pilgrim Community of Hope is smaller and poorer today; but the Community of Heaven is richer.  Goodbye, Carl.  I know you’re not calling today, but, talk to you soon.