Thank You, and Goodbye.

The original cornerstone

This is a hard subject to discuss out loud, so I’ll have to write it here. I’ve been singing and sighing, and yes, weeping a little bit today. It was a wonderful, difficult, productive, sad day. It was a day filled with gathering and letting go.

For almost fifteen years I was the minister of music at a large United Methodist church in Pennsylvania. Sadly the church which was once a thriving center of community events is now in disrepair with only a handful of members. The congregation has scheduled their final worship service in January.

Front view of new sanctuary Original sanctuary is in the background

This is the church where I grew up, was baptized and confirmed, and began my career. My wife and I were married in the sanctuary in front of almost 400 people. My mother was the organist there for more than 20 years. Leaving was one of the most difficult decisions we ever made, but I knew I had to change direction to plan for a family. After leaving I was invited back at the dying request of a dear member who asked that I direct the choir at her funeral. We only returned a handful of times after that.

Until …

A few days ago I received a text from a childhood friend, asking if I would like to have some choir music from the church. A million emotions gathered at once in my heart. “I haven’t set foot in the choir room since Dolly’s funeral. I don’t know if I can handle the emotional flood,” was my first thought. I wasn’t sure what would happen. I knew it would be good to have closure, but I also knew it would be eerily familiar and awkward at the same time.

A small sample of the music in the cabinets

I accepted the offer and met his wife at the church this morning. The building itself was mostly the same, with a few exceptions, mostly due to areas that are no longer accessible due to structural damage. It made me both happy and sad to be allowed into the building to explore my territory and write a conclusion to my story.

We sorted through five large cabinets filled with choir octavos, cantatas, sheet music, hymnals, and other books. As I looked at the years of musical memories, I recounted stories of the music, the church, members, former pastors, friends, celebrations, and sadness.  

2-manual Rogers organ

I took some pictures and walked around the classrooms, social hall, kitchen (what I wouldn’t give to have those pizza ovens in our church in NY), and sanctuary. I sat where my mom sat and played the Rogers organ one last time. It sounded glorious as always.

I was given a gift today. Not just the physical gift of music, but a chance to travel back in time to relive a treasured experience in a very personal way – a way that no one else will or can understand.

Thank you, Lord, for allowing me on last look around.

“A time to seek, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;”

~Ecclesiates 3:6

Center aisle, looking toward the narthex.