By DAVID EPPS
Pastor

I was complaining to my wife about my lack of time and bemoaning the fact that I had to attend a denominational meeting. The lack of time is due to my taking several seminary courses in order to finish a master's degree program that I began a zillion years ago. During the spring, I traveled to Springfield, Mo., for a week of courses, followed by a course in Lakeland, Fla. This fall I took another course in Lakeland and, recently, I was involved in yet another course in Philadelphia.

This week is my denominational meeting in Jacksonville, Fla., and, next week, I return to Springfield for another course. Then, over the next three months, I have essays to complete, books (boring books) to read, research to complete, and papers to write. In the midst of all this, my church, which I helped plant three years ago, is trying to raise a ton of money and close a contract on 11.5 acres of land.

It was with this in mind that I said, “I wish I knew who was speaking at the Friday night meeting in Jacksonville.”

“Why?” my wife replied. “What difference would that make?”

“Well, if the person isn't a very good speaker, I can leave about noon and head home instead of staying for the closing service and departing on Saturday.”

“Shouldn't you stay for everything?” she innocently asked.

“Cindy, I need the time! If the speaker isn't a good one, I feel perfectly justified in leaving early!”

Muttering, I stalked off. It wasn't as though we wouldn't have great speakers throughout the convocation. At least two archbishops, two bishops, and a dean of a cathedral would be speaking during the week. And, in our denomination, the leaders are known for their great preaching ability.

Some two hours later, I checked my e-mail and began to read a letter from the archbishop's office. Kathy Wright, the archbishop's secretary, had sent a letter informing me that the archbishop was requesting that I be the speaker for the ordination service on Friday night. “Wow! What an honor!” I frankly beamed with delight.

I rushed to tell my wife the good news that I would be the Friday night speaker at the convocation. After hearing the news, Cindy paused and said in a serious tone, “Well, that's good. Now everyone will be able to leave early!”

Duh.

Suddenly, I found myself hoping that no one would find out who the Friday evening speaker was going to be. I knew I would work hard, pray, and prepare. I felt that I would have a significant word for those gathered for the service. I wanted everyone to be there. It's funny how our perspective changes when something is important to us. An event that I wanted to miss in the worst way instantly changed into one of the important evenings in my year. Why? Because I was involved.

Several years ago, my middle son, John punted the football during a freshman game in high school. The wind was blowing fiercely, and, as the ball sailed high, was caught by a powerful gust. The ball hit the ground and, with each bounce, was picked up by another gust. When the ball finally stopped rolling, the kick, greatly aided by the wind, measured 75 yards! What did John do? He looked over to see if I had been watching. Hardly anybody attended that game, but it was important that I be there. Why? Because John was in the game. It was important to him.

Many times I would catch my oldest son, Jason, looking up from the field during his high school career. When he finally spied his mother or me, he would get back to the game. He needed to know that we were there watching. When my youngest, James, was running the mile in middle high school, his painful shin splits began acting up. He fell into last place and, even at a distance, I could see the pain on his face as he doggedly ran on. Twice, he looked to the stands to see if anyone was watching. Twice, I gave him the “thumbs up” and he seemed to gain strength and determination. He finished last in that race but he finished. He wasn't alone that day. It mattered that I was there. It matters a very great deal to children that their parents are present and watching.

I'm a lot like my sons, I realize that. It matters to me that people, especially our church people, are present on Sunday morning. I need to know that they are there encouraging me, helping me through the sermon. I understand that they probably need the message I bring, but, frankly, I need them just as much, if not more. People think it doesn't matter if they miss church, they assume no one notices. Pastors certainly notice. It matters to them. It matters to me.

I realize that my wife was right. I really should attend every function at convocation, and I should attend church even when I'm not the one preaching. I will surely need what they have to say, but, just as surely, they need me too. I obviously will stay through Friday night at this year's convocation. I'll stay through Friday night next year, too. It will probably matter to someone.

[Father David Epps is rector of Christ the King Charismatic Episcopal Church. He may be contacted at CTKCEC@aol.com or at P. O. Box 2192, Peachtree City, GA 30269.]

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