First Year at UUMC

 Monday After Epiphany

Congratulations to Marianne and me. We got our first Covid shots today. For once my Pulmonary Fibrosis did me some good. Last week Duke Hospital called my primary care doctor and asked her for her 10 most vulnerable 75 and over patients. I made her list. Duke then called me to set up an appointment. I asked if Marianne could get a shot too. They said yes. We got it today. Unlike the horror stories of Florida seniors being in line for many, many hours for their shots, this process was very efficient. It was at the new Duke Alumni Center. It all took us less than an hour, and that included 15 minutes after the shot to see if we had any allergic reactions. We'll be getting our second shots February 1. Some of you may have already gotten your first shot. I hope it all goes as easily for the rest of you as it went for us today. Do get the shots!

In the spring semester of 2011 we attended Dr. Joe Flora's "Christianity and Literature" class. In the last installment of High Church--Low Church, I talked about hymns. I noted my High Church preference. Joe began his classes with the class singing a couple of hymns, with piano accompaniment, from the Cokesbury Hymnal. Aargh! The Cokesbury Hymnal has every "sweet" and "precious" song you could imagine. This was the music I spent many years of my ministry trying to escape. Joe grew up American Baptist, I think, in Michigan. He loved this music and had over the years effectively taught his class to love it. I would never become a convert. But I really did like Joe's class and admired his intellect. 

That fall Marianne was either homebound or in hospital with surgeries, chemo, and reactions. Most Sundays I felt okay leaving her to go to church. Some Sundays she felt good enough to go with me. I went a couple of times to a Spiritual Growth class led by the late Don Chaney and Rosalie Olsen, two of the most deeply spiritual people I have ever known. I had one problem with the class. It began with 20 minutes of Centering Prayer. Centering Prayer is something I have never gotten the hang of. It seems not to center me but to lead my mind (and spirit) very far afield. At times I felt like I did in first grade, when the teacher wanted us to sit still at our desks, and my six year old bursting with boy energy body wanted to move. I read books, Thomas Keating and Cynthia Bourgeault, on Centering Prayer. As with many other things, I am much better at reading about it than doing it. 

 

Soon we moved to a newly formed discussion oriented class with rotating teacher. It's now called Faith Conversations.  It was the only class I've ever been involved with that was more theologically liberal than I was. I got to teach it a couple of times. I quickly realized that the only way I was really going to be happy with Sunday School was if I were teaching it. 

Meanwhile I had told Carl King, our pastor, that I would do anything he asked me to do, and that I could do it on a moment's notice. Sometime toward the end of October Carl called me and told me that one of the two leaders of a Disciple II class had unexpectedly resigned and left the church. The other leader said he couldn't handle it all by himself. Could I jump in--the next night! I immediately said yes. I had taught Disciple II and all the other Disciple courses before. I taught it half of the class time that next night. I then taught Disciple every semester of every year for the next eight years. 

Faithfully,

Christian