Throwback Thursday: The Southern Cross

I spent 9 months in 1986 working and as the regional director of  youth ministry and religious education for the New England Yearly Meeting of Friends, travelling a 6 state area training local church workers and planning events. Why only 9 months?  Read on in this vintage post from November of 2009.  

The Southern Cross (at right) is a constellation that has helped sailors navigate the seas for hundreds of years.  For me, the phrase conjures up two images- a song by Crosby, Stills and Nash, and my time in New England Yearly Meeting.  Today I will tell you some stories of mishaps and mayhem during 1986.  Some of these stories may lead you to believe that Quakerism in New England was in a bad state of affairs at the time.  I cannot argue against that point of view.  I did meet some wonderful, faithful people in the region,  But for today...here are three stories that represent my experience.

In March I led a retreat for youth in western Mass.  We worshiped together, played together and learned together. It was a great weekend, and something very new for the youth involved.  I talked to many parents as they picked up their kids, and most seemed excited at the new direction I was taking the program.  One mom, from the Boston suburb of Peabody (pronounced Pee-bud-ee, NOT pea body!) had a concern.  She pulled me aside and said without a trace of a smile, "If my daughter comes home talking like you (with a southern accent) then she will not be allowed back at these events."  I laughed and responded "I don't think that is anything ya'll have to worry about."  She fired back "I'm not kidding.  Learn to speak real English."  And she walked away.  So much for the Quaker belief in the equality of all people, whether they be Yankee or not...

Sometime that same Spring I led a workshop on religious education at a Friends Meeting out near Cape Cod.  (By the way- is there any national historic monument more disappointing than Plymouth Rock?  I mean come on...it's really just a rock?)  On Saturday I spoke to a crowd of about 30 on new methods of teaching the Bible to children.  I spoke of how Jesus called the children to him, and how he indicated that we must become like children to enter the kingdom of heaven.  Afterwards, while having refreshments, an older woman (I am guessing about 107!) came up to me and got right in my face- well, she would have been right in my face if she could have reached it!  Seriously, she had to reach up just to be able to poke me in the chest- which she did!  She spoke to me in one of those cackling, Wicked Witch of the Northeast type voices and said "Young man, we don't talk like that here!"  I searched my memory, trying to remember what I could have said that would have been offensive, but I had no idea- and I told her so.  She poked me once more and said in a low, condemning snarl, "you said JESUS CHRIST.  We don't say that here.  You can talk about Jesus or you can talk about Christ, but don't assume they are the same."  I was stunned.  How was I ever going to make a difference with theology like that floating around?  I had to just walk away.

As I have mentioned before, most of the meetings in New England featured traditional Quaker worship, with no pastor or planned music.  The format came from the concept that if you gather in expectant silence, God will speak through the worshippers.  In the earliest days of Quaker worship elders often gave hour long sermons from the silence.  I had experienced great moments of God's presence through this style of "open worship" at New Garden Friends Meeting and at Quaker Lake Camp, so I looked forward to worshipping with Friends all over New England.  One Sunday (or First Day, in the traditional Quaker language) I found myself settling into the silence with about a dozen others at a meetinghouse in Rhode Island.  Midway through the hour I felt God tugging at my heart with a message, and, as often happens in such situations, I suddenly found myself on my feet and speaking.  Worship concluded without anyone else speaking, and afterwards, I found myself being ignored.  I finally stopped an older man, introduced myself and asked if there was anything the Yearly Meeting office could do for their Meeting.  He very tersely told me no, and then proceeded to ask me why I had spoken like that.  I told him that I felt I had been led by God to speak.  He shook his head and informed me that this was a silent meeting, and that I was the first person to speak during worship in over 40 years.  A silent meeting- talk about adventures in missing the point!

I found Friends Meetings with only three or four members left, keeping the doors open to keep alive the memory of their ancestors who had founded them.  I found people who had no idea that George Fox, the original Quaker, had been a Christian and a biblical scholar.  And I found lots and lots of folks who worshipped Quakerism, pacifism and history- all things that I love, but in this sense, false idols all!  I became more and more convinced that I needed to bring a focus on Jesus to the youth I had come there to serve.  I needed them to know that we are a Resurrection People.  They needed to know about the cross and the empty tomb.  I had to tell them the Good News!  I just couldn't do it with a southern accent...

Because of Jesus,

Lessons Learned

The late Dan Fogelberg had an obscure song on his Netherlands album called Lessons Learned (FYI- this is my 80th day of blogging and my fourth Fogelberg reference.  I must be on pace to set some sort of record!). I always loved the album and the song, especially the chorus:

Lessons learned are like bridges burned,

 you only need to cross them but once

Is the knowledge gained worth the price of the pain?

Are the spoils worth the cost of the hunt?

Looking back, my nine months in New England were all about learning lessons.  I learned that theological labels can be be very misleading.  Working at New Garden Friends had made me somewhat of a liberal outcast in NC Yearly Meeting in the early '80's.  My faith in Jesus Christ made me a raging evangelical in New England.  Having been seen as part of both extremes, I saw how much damage could come from labeling, and I would try to avoid doing it to others.  I learned that I didn't know anywhere near as much as I thought I did.  My knowledge of youth ministry was superior to most, but I had so much to learn about the church and about Quakerism and about people.  Learning how much you have to learn is a valuable lesson indeed.  I learned that I was not as independent as I thought I was.  I needed friends and family around me.  At the same time, I learned that without friends to lean on, I could always depend on God.  My faith had deepened a good bit in a short amount of time.  Professionally, I now understood that working in the Yearly Meeting office- any Yearly Meeting office- was not for me!  I needed a church family and a group of students whose lives I could be involved in on a regular basis.  I had been called to ministry, not to administration, and I needed to return to a local church- and now I was.

The most important thing I learned, however, is that God uses us in failure as often as He does in success.  Leaving after only nine months without having made any major impact made me feel like I had failed God.  Hindsight enables me to see that I was there to be a John the Baptist type- God brought me to NEYM to prepare the way for Chris Jorgensen (in picture with Tim Harding, modeling the latest in Lady Liberty wear!).  Chris did indeed get the job after I left, and served for a number of years making a huge difference in the lives of youth all over New England.  So the answer to Fogelberg's question is yes.  The knowledge gained IS worth the price of the pain, especially when Jesus is doing the teaching!

I headed out of Massachusetts a week before my wedding, still not having resigned, but ready to take the position at Springfield Friends Meeting.  Marilyn and I had lots of decisions to make- but first, it was time for a wedding!

Because of Jesus,

"Kicked In the Butt By Jesus"

Jocelyn Sessions, who was part of the youth group in Kissimmee and will someday be featured in a few dozen stories on this blog, used to tell me that she thought "Kicked In the Butt By Jesus" would be a great sermon title.  I never worked up the courage to use the title, but I certainly know the feeling...

In late July of 1986 I flew from Boston to Greensboro to finalize some wedding plans and to interview at Springfield Friends Meeting.  I still had no idea if I would seriously consider the position, but I assumed it couldn't hurt to interview.  I already knew the Pastor, Max Rees, and some of the people of the Meeting, so it was a very comfortable interview for me.  I also knew at least one other candidate, and I was certain he would get the job.  One thing I knew for sure- Springfield was hurting from the manner of Wallace's departure, and the youth of the Meeting were feeling dumped on.  It was not going to be an easy job.  I flew back to Boston less certain than ever of what the future held for Marilyn and I- and still praying for my burning bush or my singing angels!

Marilyn and I are both uncertain of the exact timing and order of events over the last few weeks before our wedding, but the following things definitely happened!  I survived my one and only session of New England Young Friends Yearly Meeting. The highlight was a "coffeehouse" with youth and adults where I knocked them dead with Blue Pick-Up Truck.  I remember precious little beyond that.  Either right before,during, or right after Yearly Meeting I received a call from Springfield offering me the job.  I was still uncertain about deserting the kids of New England, and about the current state of Springfield.  I told them I needed time.  My wedding date was just around the corner, and now I was uncertain where Marilyn and I would live.  I was panicked, and God didn't seem to be providing any answers.  Of course, God was speaking- I was just hard of hearing!

Days before I was to go back to NC for a week before our nuptials, I was sitting stuck in traffic on the Massachusetts Turnpike (Mass Pike to all you Yankees!) and wondering what I should do.  I was listening to a great classic rock station on my radio, and the Steve Miller Band song Jet Airliner began to play.  I was only half paying attention when I heard the words "touching down in New England town, feel the heat coming down..."  Hmmm.  It seemed like that ought to mean something to me, but I wasn't sure what.  I remember praying at that moment "God, if you have something to say, say it loud...I need to know what to do."  The next song- the very next song- was James Taylor singing Carolina In My Mind.  BOOM! Kicked in the butt by Jesus!  Suddenly it was all so clear, as it should have been all along.  New England would not suffer without me, they would THRIVE with Chris Jorgensen!  Springfield was not a place I should avoid because of their troubles, it was a place that NEEDED me!  Marilyn could stay near her family; I could be back with mine; and all of our friends would be there to support us! God was sending me home!  The answer had been clear from the beginning- I just didn't listen.  It took James Taylor to set me straight.  I found my singing angels on FM radio!  Who knew?

Telling the good people of NEYM and worrying about moving and where we might live would all have to wait.  I had a wedding to attend...and you can read about that on Saturday.

Because of Jesus,

Crossroads

Happy Veteran's Day to all of the women and men who serve or have served our country, and especially to their families, who often sacrifice even more...may God bless you all!

The Summer of '86 found me quite busy planning the August annual Young Friends Yearly Meeting sessions and the 1986-87 school year events and programs.  My occasional thoughts of leaving New England and heading back to North Carolina were tempered by reality.  If I went back, what job would I be able to find?  If I left after such a short tenure, wasn't I just feeding into the statistics that said youth ministers never stay?  I wanted nothing to do with adding to the "17 month" stat- the average length of stay in a ministry position for a youth worker in those days.  Most importantly, I believed God had sent me to NEYM for a reason, and I was not ready to give up on my mission yet unless God was ready for me to move on.

The other side of my brain would argue that I was stuck in a job I didn't really like doing ministry with people I didn't understand.  Planning for Yearly Meeting ran me headlong into more issues and roadblocks that simply blew my mind.  Every discussion seemed to be about political correctness and theological inclusiveness.  Jesus was left out of the mix at every turn.  The committee spent one whole planning session talking guidelines for behavior for the students who would attend.  The debate centered around the fact the boyfriends and girlfriends could not room together or have public displays of affection, but nothing prevented gay and lesbian couples from sharing a room.  The discussion was heated, with the suggestion actually made that we just drop ALL rooming guidelines.  It was surreal.  They didn't see any real need for speakers, or music, or worship at the sessions.  Just good "hang out" time, with some workshops on social justice issues.  More and more I found myself turning to Chris Jorgensen for answers, and more and more I wondered why she didn't get the job to begin with...

Marilyn and I were set to be married on August 30th, just a few weeks after Yearly Meeting.  She was being a trooper about the whole thing, but it was clear to me she had no real desire to live in Massachusetts.  But she would...for me, and for my ministry.  There seemed to be no clear option, and praying for guidance was all I could do.  Then one day in June, I checked my mail and discovered a letter from my old friend Wallace Sills (see Starting A Riot) in NC.  Wally informed me that he was leaving his position as Youth and Christian Education Director at Springfield Friends Meeting in High Point, and that he hoped I would be interested in applying.  The application and interview process would take them up to the end of August...our wedding.  It was exciting news, but also complicating.  Would starting such a process give Marilyn false hope of getting to stay in NC?  As usual, I thought my chances of actually getting the position were not good. Plus, as I looked into the situation at Springfield I discovered that Wallace was leaving under bad circumstances and taking part of the congregation with him to Jamestown Friends. Simply exchanging one bad situation for another didn't seem like much of a plan.  And what of my commitment to the Young Friends of New England?  I didn't want to run out on them.  I wanted God to send me a sign- because I was too blind to see that the presence of Chris and the letter from Wallace as answers to prayer.   I wanted a burning bush, singing angels or a visit from a prophet.  I wanted God to speak.  Be careful what you ask for...

Because of Jesus,

Almost Famous

I spent a great deal of my time in New England on the road, visiting the people and the Meetings of NEYM.  The winter of 1986 was brutally cold, and I gave my trusty Renault Encore a workout through snow and freezing temps.  I travelled alone most of the time, and quite often ate alone at various places along the road.  I had not been in the region long before I discovered Friendly's, an ice cream and sandwich restaurant that dotted the New England landscape.  I could eat at the counter, get great milk shakes (called Fribbles) and be back on the road pretty quickly.  I visited Friendly's quite often.

One day in early June I stopped at a Friendly's outside of Boston and went in to have some dinner at the counter.  I sat down next to a ruffled looking gentleman, and as I gave him the obligatory "hi" and nod I realized that I knew him.  It was Doug Moe.  That name may mean very little to most people, but I was excited.  Doug Moe was, at the time, the head coach of the Denver Nuggets of the NBA.  He was in the area because he had just watched an NBA finals game at the Boston Garden between the Celtics and the Houston Rockets.  But for me, Doug Moe was someone I had known about for a very long time.  He played at the University of North Carolina in the 1960's and being a huge Tarheel fan I had heard of him from those days.  He then played a number of years in the now defunct American Basketball Association (ABA) for a number of teams, including the Carolina Cougars.  My Dad and I went to a number of Cougars games in the early 70's and Doug was one of our favorite players because he played so hard.  At first he seemed a bit reluctant to chat, but when I brought up the Tarheels and the Cougars his face lit up and we talked non-stop for an hour!  He couldn't believe how much I knew and remembered about his days with the Cougars.  We also talked at length about M.L. Carr, the current Celtic and former Guilford College Quaker who had once been my Dad's lab partner and dissected a cat on our back porch.  Doug was everything I had heard he was- blunt, loud, animated and scruffy looking (see picture at top, from 1986).  He was just a normal guy, eating at Friendly's and talking sports with a buddy.  It was awesome.

I left that evening not thinking about how I had just spent an hour talking with one of the best coaches in the NBA, but rather about how, for one of the few times since moving to New England, I felt normal.   Talking abut M.L., the Cougars and the Tarheels was like being back home.  For the first time, with three months to go before our wedding, I began to think about what it would take to get me back to NC.  But not for the last time...

Because of Jesus,

The Southern Cross

The Southern Cross (at right) is a constellation that has helped sailors navigate the seas for hundreds of years.  For me, the phrase conjures up two images- a song by Crosby, Still and Nash, and my time in New England Yearly Meeting.  Today I will tell you some stories of mishaps and mayhem during 1986.  Some of these stories may lead you to believe that Quakerism in New England was in a bad state of affairs at the time.  I cannot argue against that point of view.  I did meet some wonderful, faithful people in the region, and you will hear more about them in a later posting.  As for today...here are three stories that represent my experience.

In March I led a retreat for youth in western Mass.  We worshiped together, played together and learned together. It was a great weekend, and something very new for the youth involved.  I talked to many parents as they picked up their kids, and most seemed excited at the new direction I was taking the program.  One mom, from the Boston suburb of Peabody (pronounced Peebudee, NOT pea body!) had a concern.  She pulled me aside and said without a trace of a smile "If my daughter comes home talking like you (with a southern accent) then she will not be allowed back at these events."  I laughed and responded "I don't think that is anything ya'll have to worry about."  She fired back "I'm not kidding.  Learn to speak real English."  And she walked away.  So much for the Quaker belief in the equality of all people, whether they be Yankee or not...

Sometime that same Spring I led a workshop on religious education at a Friends Meeting out near Cape Cod.  (By the way- is there any national historic monument more disappointing than Plymouth Rock?  I mean come on...it's really just a rock?)  On Saturday I spoke to a crowd of about 30 on new methods of teaching the Bible to children.  I spoke of how Jesus Christ called the children to Him, and how He indicated that we must become like children to enter the kingdom of heaven.  Afterwards, while having refreshments, an older woman (I am guessing about 107!) came up to me and got right in my face- well, she would have been right in my face if she could have reached it!  Seriously, she had to reach up just to be able to poke me in the chest- which she did!  She spoke to me in one of those cackling, Wicked Witch of the Northeast type voices and said "Young man, we don't talk like that here!"  I searched my memory, trying to remember what I could have said that would have been offensive, but I had no idea- and I told her so.  She poked me once more and said in a low, condemning snarl, "you said JESUS CHRIST.  We don't say that here.  You can talk about Jesus or you can talk about Christ, but don't assume they are the same."  I was stunned.  How was I ever going to make a difference with theology like that floating around?  I had to just walk away.

As I have mentioned before, most of the meetings in New England featured traditional Quaker worship, with no pastor or planned music.  The format came from the concept that if you gather in expectant silence, God will speak through the worshippers.  In the earliest days of Quaker worship elders often gave hour long sermons from the silence.  I had experienced great moments of God's presence through this style of "open worship" at New Garden Friends Meeting and at Quaker Lake Camp, so I looked forward to worshipping with Friends all over New England.  One Sunday (or First Day, in the traditional Quaker language) I found myself settling into the silence with about a dozen others at a meetinghouse in Rhode Island.  Midway through the hour I felt God tugging at my heart with a message, and, as often happens in such situations, I suddenly found myself on my feet and speaking.  Worship concluded without anyone else speaking, and afterwards, I found myself being ignored.  I finally stopped an older man, introduced myself and asked if there was anything the Yearly Meeting office could do for their Meeting.  He very tersely told me no, and then proceeded to ask me why I had spoken like that.  I told him that I felt I had been led by God to speak.  He shook his head and informed me that this was a silent meeting, and that I was the first person to speak during worship in over 40 years.  A silent meeting- talk about adventures in missing the point!

I found Friends Meetings with only three or four members left, keeping the doors open to keep alive the memory of their ancestors who had founded them.  I found people who had no idea that George Fox, the original Quaker, had been a Christian and a biblical scholar.  And I found lots and lots of folks who worshipped Quakerism, pacifism and history- all things that I love, but in this sense, false idols all!  I became more and more convinced that I needed to bring a focus on Jesus to the youth I had come there to serve.  I needed them to know that we are a Resurrection People.  They needed to know about the cross and the empty tomb.  I had to tell them the Good News!  I just couldn't do it with a southern accent...

Because of Jesus,

A Rough Start

In January of 1986 I finished my move to New England.  The $14,000 a year they were paying me seemed like a lot to me at the time, but I soon discovered that the fact that I would be living less than an hour from Boston meant rent would be ridiculous.  I settled on a very small one bedroom in Oxford, about 20 minutes away from the New England Yearly Meeting office.  I knew no one in the complex, and the majority of my neighbors commuted to Boston and I never saw them.  Settling into the office itself was a little more interesting.  The offices were upstairs in an old house which also contained Worcester Friends Meeting.  A lady named Stella lived in the house and took care of it, and she was none too happy that rooms had been rented out to the Yearly Meeting.  You can get a sense of the pecking order from the size of the signs in the picture above.   We were on egg shells any time she was around, although Stella was never anything but nice to me.  We, however, is a strong word.  No one mentioned to me that the only person who actually worked out of the office was the Administrative Secretary, Candida Palmer.  Candida was a sweet older women from New Zealand.  Her ex-husband was a renowned Quaker author, and she was quite bitter about her divorce.  The rest of the staff (I think there were 4 others) worked out of their homes, spread all over New England.  By this point I had discovered that New England covered six states- Massachusetts, Vermont, New Hampshire, Rhode Island, Connecticut and Maine.  I would spend almost every weekend on the road, visiting Friends Meetings all over the region.  With only Candida as a co-worker, and without being able to attend any Meeting on a regular basis, I quickly came to the conclusion that I would spend a great deal of time alone, and that making new friends would be difficult.  I could not have been more correct.

The other interesting thing about the office is that it never occurred to the committee that hired me that I might actually WANT an office.  I had books and files and other things one might expect to see in any office, but I had no place to put them.  My office was really the printing room; I managed to clear off a table and get a computer to use for word processing (this was WAYYYY before Internet was an issue).  I began to organize retreats and events for the youth, and to write and publish a newsletter.  These were things that had never been done, and for which there was no budget, but I pushed ahead.  They also gave me excuses to meet with Chris Jorgensen, who was still my only friend in the 6 state area.  I would work all week at the office, with the day interrupted by long talks with Candida so she could complain about her work load or her ex-husband.  In February, I came to work one Monday morning only to discover that everything in Massachusetts was closed for something called Patriot's Day.  It's the day they run the Boston Marathon.  No one bothered to tell me, and that was typical.  I would spend nights at the apartment, eating alone, reading alone and watching TV alone.  I was often depressed at night.  The only things that kept me going were my faith, pizza from a local place in Oxford, my ongoing belief that I could accomplish some things with the youth of NEYM, and the occasional visits from Marilyn, my parents and my friends from NC.  It was going to be a long haul until Marilyn arrived for good in September.

In my travels over the next few months I met some interesting people and visited some strange places.  Both the southern accent I spoke with and the actual words I spoke became issues, and I seemed to "step in it"everywhere I went!  I'll tell you some of those tales tomorrow.

Because of Jesus,

A Whole New World

Christmas 1985 was approaching rapidly, and I still needed a plan.  I knew I was moving to Worcester, Mass (if you have ever lived there you never abbreviate Massachusetts "MA"- it's always Mass) the week after Christmas to attend the Mid-Winter Retreat of the New England Young Friends.  I had no place to live, no money to pay for moving help, and no idea what I should do about my relationship with Marilyn (that's us in 1987 at EPCOT).  I eventually found a place I could stay while I looked for an apartment; some friends would help me move (and give me a new recliner to take with me!); and I decided to propose to Marilyn.  The engagement ring would be her Christmas surprise!  I took the gift to her at the house she was sharing with some friends and gave it to her without fanfare.  She opened, was stunned, hugged me and and we began crying and laughing.  To the best of my memory (and hers) I never actually asked her to marry me!  Despite that little oversight, we decided we would marry Labor Day weekend of 1986 in Elkin, NC, Marilyn's hometown.  Then I headed off to New England, leaving her to plan a wedding and figure out her own move north.

Those of you who know me or who have been following this blog with any regularity know that I have a good memory.  I seldom forget names or events; I can list over 50 youth who participated in my youth groups at New Garden from 1978-83.  Having said that, I must confess I remember very little about my time in New England, especially the names of the youth.  It's odd but true.  I arrived at Mid-Winter Retreat to observe, meet people, and get a sense of what the traditions and expectations were of the Youth and Religious Education Secretary were.  I have three strong memories of that retreat.  On my arrival, I was immediately invited to join an ice hockey game being played on a lake.  I have never played hockey, and in NC you never go out on a frozen lake because it will not hold you.  I also had no skates.  But I ventured down to the lake and went out and slid around with the youth and made a decent first impression for a southern boy.  The second thing I remember is discovering that these students were addicted to a game called Wink 'Em!  I knew the game well from my days as a New Games leader, and so I could jump right in.  Wink 'Em! is a very violent game, much like organized group wrestling, and these kids played all out!  Shirts got ripped, shoulders got separated and people bled!  We played in a large carpeted room every time we had free time, and every night right before lights out.  It was great!

The third thing I remember was sitting down with my new boss, Tom Ewell, and discovering some unsettling things.  He warned me that I would encounter people all over the Yearly Meeting who considered themselves Quaker but NOT Christian, and that my faith would be tested.  He told me that spiritual content had not really been a part of Young Friends events in quite some time, and he did not know how welcome it would be now. Almost all of their programming focused on social activism and human rights, without focusing on Jesus as the reason for their beliefs and actions.  The worst news, however, was that he would be leaving his job in a couple of months, and even that support of the new direction I hoped to go would be gone.  I was not happy.  I had just entered a whole new world, and now my tour guide was quitting.  I left the retreat having enjoyed meeting the youth and adults, having reconnected with Chris Jorgensen, and yet still feeling like things were already a bit out of control.  I was a little depressed, but still felt like God had me there for a reason.  What I did not yet understand was that after years of being surrounded by great youth, great friends and an amazing girlfriend, I was about to take on a whole new world- alone.  I would have to depend on Jesus, in a situation where He was not always welcome.  I had so much to learn...and that's not even counting ice hockey!

Because of Jesus,

Weekend in New England

In the weeks following Live Aid (see July 13, 1985) I began to feel more and more conviction that God was calling me back to youth ministry.  I wanted so badly to make a difference in the world.  This was all fine and good, but I still had no clue as to how or where I could find a ministry position.  David Stone and a couple of other youth ministry professionals suggested I try a different denomination with more opportunities, but in 1985 I was still very loyal to the Quakers.  There were so few full time youth ministry jobs among Friends that I questioned whether or not opportunity would ever come my way.  I sent out some letters enquiring about possibilities, but nothing I heard in return gave me much hope.  Then one day in October of '85 I was reading Quaker Life magazine and saw that New England Yearly Meeting of Friends (NEYM) was looking for a Religious Education and Youth Secretary.  This person would work out of the Yearly Meeting office, providing leadership, training and support to every Quaker meeting in New England, as well as planning special events for youth.  My heart skipped a beat with excitement at the thought of the position; for the next few days I prayed hard about applying.

There were a number of reasons NOT to apply.  I had not finished my degree, having become disenchanted with programs that taught me nothing about student ministry.  I knew very little about the NEYM, or about New England itself.  I wasn't even sure which states made up the region!  I did know NEYM was quite different from NCYM; most of the Meetings did not have pastors and none had youth pastors.  Even on the off chance that they would have any interest in me, I wasn't sure I could handle the differences.  Plus, leaving NC would mean leaving Marilyn behind, and that was not a happy thought.  Nonetheless, I decide to send them a resume.

Despite not having a degree, my resume for that position was pretty impressive.  My Quaker Lake experience, my New Garden experience, my training in Serendipity Small Groups and Serendipity Bible Study, my work with Young Life and New Games all set me apart from many of the candidates.  The time spent at the National Youth Workers Convention and with David Stone gave me an education few other Quakers had at the time.  I had also served a three year term on the Friends United Meeting Wider Ministries Commission, which had given me a great overview of what Quakers were up to all over the world.  I suppose all of that was enough, because they invited me to fly up for an interview in November, and I accepted.  I was off to, as Barry Manilow might say, my weekend in New England!
I flew into Boston (landing at Logan Airport scared me to death; I thought we were landing in the harbor!) and was picked up there by a young woman named Chris Jorgensen.  As we drove the hour plus to Worcester for the interviews, I discovered that Chris had been quite active as a volunteer in the youth programs of NEYM for several years.  I also discovered that she was also applying for the position.  As we talked, I realized two things right away- I really liked her and thought working with her could be great, and that SHE should get this job!  It was not the last time I would have such a feeling at a job interview.  The interview went well.  The committee was a little overwhelmed with my knowledge of current trends and patterns in youth ministry and education.  I discovered later that they were looking for someone who could deal with the two very different sides of NEYM.  One side wanted more spiritual depth and biblical understanding; the other side, which had been dominant for years, was into social justice that might or might not be based on the teachings of Jesus.  My experience with both scratched them right where they itched, and in early December I was offered the job.  Chris and I talked at length as she drove me back to the airport, and we decided that if indeed I got the job she would continue her current role.  That was very important to me as I prayed about the situation.  Despite some misgivings, I felt like God had led me to them and that they needed me.  So I accepted.

I could not have known what the next nine months would be like.  I did not foresee that I would go from being a fairly liberal Quaker in NC to the most conservative man in NEYM!  I wasn't yet clear on what moving to Massachusetts would mean for Marilyn and me.  And mostly I was CLUELESS about the things God was going to teach me about myself, my faith and my relationship with Jesus in those few short months.  For the next week or so we will focus on my time in New England.  I hope you will come along for the ride!

Because of Jesus,