Faith Journey--The Mericle Man

Seventh Monday of Easter

Thanks to Joe and Stuart for their comments. We'll deal with Joe's questions about permanent crosses in sanctuaries in the larger context of an architectural review of church sanctuaries tomorrow. I'll get around to Stuart's comment about the "holy catholic church," at a later point in our exploration of difficult doctrines in the Apostles' Creed.

Monday is my Faith Journey Day on the blog. At this point in the faith journey it's 1977.  I am now the pastor of three small churches in  northern Chatham County about 10 miles south of Chapel Hill. The first year of my ministry there was taken up with pastoral work. I had not nearly enough time to work on my Ph.D. dissertation. By that next spring my five year deadline was looming. I had to get it done. I called Duke Divinity School to see whether I could get a Duke Endowment Summer Field Education worker for that summer. I explained my plight to my Pastor-Parish Committee. They agreed that I could get the Duke Endowment student and have him or her do all the parish visitation and work with the youth group. I did harbor some fear that the Endowment student might end up being more trouble than he or she was worth. The stories of bad Endowment students were legendary among my clergy friends. I had been one of those Endowment students for three years while I was in Divinity School, so I knew something about this.

I should have realized something was up when the head of Duke Endowment Field Education called me and said, "I have a student for you, and get this, his name is Skip Miracle." That's the way I heard it. Actually, Skip spells his name Mericle, but there is scarcely any pronunciation difference. 

Skip and I talked on the phone. I explained the situation and his job description. He came to the parsonage the first day for us to meet and for him to get his day's assignment. The first thing I noticed was that Skip was extraordinarily handsome in face and athletic in body. He was indeed in good shape, having just served in the army in combat in Vietnam toward the end of that war. 

He reported back to me at the parsonage the end of the afternoon. In the ensuing conversation I found out that Skip and I had everything in common. He had been a Duke undergrad, and like I, was a big Duke fan. He also was a big sports fan in general. We liked all the same teams, especially the Washington Redskins.  It got weirder when he mentioned and named the piece of classical music that was playing on my radio in the background. He, like I, was a big fan of classical music, and he was extremely knowledgeable. Furthermore, we seemed to like all the same composers. Sending Skip out to pastor my congregations was going to be like sending out a clone of myself--except for one thing--he was devastatingly good looking--okay, except for one other thing--he was extraordinarily personable. To know Skip five minutes was to feel like he had been your friend all your life.

So Skip worked my parish; I worked my dissertation. 

I preached on Sundays (with minimal prep, I must confess). After services people would tell me how wonderful Skip was and what a great job he was doing and how the youth group was growing. Every week they told me this, more and more. Skip and I became very close friends. He also got to be closer to many of my members than I was. They never grew tired of telling how great he was and how glad they were that I had gotten him for the summer.

Then came the day of the United Methodist Youth picnic in early August at Cedar Grove UMC, one of my three churches (it was a combined UMYF). After we ate we had a softball game. Skip and I both joined in playing in the game. Skip came up to bat. He hit a towering home run across Jones Ferry Road into the adjacent corn field. I came up and dribbled a grounder to the pitcher who threw me out at first base. Skip came up four times. Four massive blasts deeper and deeper into the corn field.  I came up three more times. Two ground outs and once reaching first base on an error.

After the game was over, we all picked up all the picnic gear and trash and were walking back to the Fellowship Hall. The youth were all hanging close to Skip (especially the girls). I was walking about 15 feet behind by myself. I overheard one of the girls say, "Gee, Skip, I wish YOU could be our pastor."

(To be continued next Monday).

Faithfully,

Christian