First a word about Marc Wessels.  In the short time I knew him, I came to love, respect and value him.  I really

Marc in Long Beach, CA at the 29th   General Synod

meant it when I said he was a big man with a huge heart and an expansive mind.  He could be funny and even laugh at himself.  He could be stubborn as all get out.  He loved ministry, and particularly this work of Conference ministry even though it can be very hard at times.  I found him insightful, especially about people and their gifts.  I believe he was going to be an excellent Conference Minister for South Dakota, and I grieve the loss of his voice among the Conference Ministers.  I also mourn the loss, very simply, of a new friend.  I don't relish leading his memorial service on Monday, but I do so as a testimony to his love of God and the Church - and us.

I am all too well acquainted with grief, as are many of you.  When my husband died I committed myself not to stifle my grief because as a pastor, I have journeyed the road with so many whose grief roared back of its own accord when it wasn't attended to.  So if I have tears, I cry them.  If I'm feeling lonely, I name it.  If I'm beside myself with distress, I try to face into it.  So far, it's worked pretty well.  

Perhaps, with Marc's tragic early death, it is worth reminding us all that grief comes in waves.  It is true that we all grieve differently.  Yet some things are also true for all of us:  bewilderment, living in a land of ambiguity, a risk of depression, a sense of having been abandoned.  

Marc was Elizabeth's husband and she is grieving.  He was Meredith's and Taylor's stepfather, and they are grieving.  I pray that it may be a good and rich grieving!  Yet he was also our friend and companion on the journey.  For some, he was mentor and coach.  For others he was a dear friend.  For still others, a wise counselor.  And, of course, because he wasn't perfect, I'm sure there are people he irritated.  In one of our last conversations, we talked about what it's like for us when we give the truest and most sage advice we can and then watch it being rejected, often quite willfully.  Sometimes Marc had to say things to people they didn't want to hear.  It isn't easy to do that, but a good minister does it anyway, for the sake of the well-being and the soul of the person or the church.  So in our grieving, let us tap into the gifts of the Holy Spirit to guide us to the depths and breadths of our relationship with Marc.  Let our grieving too be rich and deep!

It occurs to me that there are ways in which you as a Conference are in a multi-layered grieving process.  The bewilderment, ambiguity, depression and feeling of abandonment are real.  I am here to accompany you on this journey.  I cannot assuage any of that, but I can minister to you in the midst of it.  You can work your way through your grieving in healthy ways, or in unhealthy ways.  The Gospel leads us to healthy ways in which we honor and cherish each other, strengthen our relationships so we can rely on one another, welcome each other's truth, and face our distress rather than deny it.  That is what I am trying to do among you during these months of accompaniment.  I think it is worth naming the grieving, not only for Marc, but for Jeff and Randy Whitman, for the life of our Conference, and for our own sense of loss, whatever that may be.