Rev. David Shepherd's Message - 110^th Anniversary Seagrave United Church   September 25, 2016

I am grateful for the opportunity to come and publicly reminisce about ministry here for eleven years from 1986 to 1997.   I decided to tell four stories about memories that live with me to this day. 

The first story is called "What Mildred Puckrin taught me about efficiency." 

I consulted her frequently and for many reasons including her sense of humour, her perspective on life, her story telling, her wisdom and her advice. 

I learned about efficiency from Mildred through phone conversations.  In those days I fancied that I had a lot to do so that I was chronically in a hurry even though deep down I understood that I should know better.

Mildred was a slow talker with a conversational cadence about the same as John Wayne (for those of us old enough to remember John Wayne).  In personal conversations, away from the phone, I found her about the most relaxing person I could meet with.  But in phone conversations, due to my chronic hast and anxiety, I wished that she would just talk faster.  

Then it came to me.  It dawned on me.  I saw the light.

Mildred's really deliberate manner undergirded her amazing efficiency.

Whatever Mildred did, she did only once.  There was no need for a repeat, a fix, an adjustment, a re-do or a repair.  When Mildred did it, it was done.  Really then, her speed was amazing.

Often these days, when I find myself wrapped around my own axle, I remember Mildred.

I try to just calm down, think it through, maybe take a little break. 

I have heard many people, ministers especially, facing the perplexities of life ask, "What would Jesus do?"  I ask myself, "What would Mildred do?"  I think this makes me a little calmer, a little more efficient, a little faster, and a little more effective too.

The second story is called:  "What I learned about Plumbing and life from Ken Sturman."

One day I took Ken down in the basement of the old manse in Greenbank to show him a dripping wad of copper oxide about the size of a five pin bowling ball where the galvanized pipe from the well joined the copper plumbing system for the house.  Ken did a comprehensive inspection concluding that the manse plumbing needed an extensive upgrade and set about to do it recruiting me as his helper.  I know of no other minister who has such an experience in continuing education.

The project was to replace the plumbing in the basement and install shut off valves in each pipe so that when the need arose to repair to a sink or toilet the pipe to it could be shut off without shutting down the plumbing for the whole house.  This is like a surgeon clamping an artery instead of stopping the heart.

Ken's plumbing is elegant.  Instead of proceeding a bit at time, he gets a whole picture, takes precise measurements and puts together a complete assembly.

I asked many questions as we went along, some of which Ken could not answer until the time was right to do so.  To cover the meantime Ken would say, "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

To this day when I peer at something in the future that seems murky and perplexing, I remember plumbing with Ken and tell myself, "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it." 

Jesus said something the same:  "Do not worry about tomorrow.  Today has enough worries of its own."

The third story is "How the youth group taught me that getting out of my comfort zone can lead to a wonderful experience."

The youth group had a passion for snowmobiles and a comprehensive knowledge of what makes them go.  I had neither the passion nor the knowledge, but I knew enough to go with the flow and so I rode the back seat most of the time but was sometimes graciously invited to drive.

One day we rode to Cannington by way of Cresswell to join the Cannington youth group for a ride followed by supper and then ride back to Seagrave.  The youth group rode fast machines and equipped me with a personal machine for my use; an old, small and quite tame Ski Doo, the chief virtue of which was safety. 

I would follow at a distance and when I fell off, stalled the machine or unhitched the track someone would soon appear to set me to rights.  I quite enjoyed the ride.

At last we rode home under the full moon.  The journey seemed like being part of a real life Christmas card. The memory of the full moon in winter seems timeless, especially the vision of crossing the high country through the open fields.

For the next three days I truly felt beyond my comfort zone because my thighs were my main shock absorbers.  But my body has long since recovered and the transcendent experience of that ride beyond my comfort zone lives on.

The fourth story is called. "What do we do when Dec. 25 comes on Sunday?"  It's a timely story for this year when Christmas comes on Sunday. 

At Seagrave we had church.  The congregation came early to be welcomed in the upstairs Sunday school room with mulled cider, Christmas treats and Christmas morning conviviality.  They responded with such enthusiasm that there was some question as to whether the service would ever begin because the congregation was engrossed in the Christmas morning party before church.  The service that followed was a fitting celebration of our Saviour's birth.   We took full advantage of a rare opportunity to celebrate Christmas morning together as a congregation.

You have likely heard of the old song:  "Thanks for the Memories".  The opportunity to share a few memories with you gives me the opportunity to be thankful for life we share in the church and the richness of memory that we celebrate today.