This is literally my 10th attempt at writing a few words about this morning’s church services at Holy Communion; the previous 9 attempts all fell woefully flat. Maybe this is one of those classic cases of “you had to be there” – but nevertheless, let me try one more time to describe it to those of you who were nowhere near 2000 West Sixth Street in Racine this morning.
The story actually begins more than 20 years ago, when Holy Communion called a brilliantly talented and bountifully loving young man named Walter Hermann, who very quickly endeared himself to young and old in the congregation. A few years later, Walter went to the doctor with mounting symptoms of unexplained weakness and numbness, and received the devastating diagnosis of MS- Multiple Sclerosis. The shock flattened Walter very briefly, but it didn’t take long at all for Walter to embrace this new, harsh reality with courage and grace- and the way in which he and Lynn have met this challenge ever since has left all of us who know them in utter awe.
Walter took a new position a few years back but Lynn, Laura and Shawn remained members at Holy Communion- and Walter is still a very cherished part of our congregation – which is why people were so excited by the news that he was going to be a guest preacher on a Sunday in September. But then just a day or two before he was scheduled to join us, he was hit by a serious infection which landed him in the hospital and which sent his body temperature plunging into the upper 80’s. It was a very scary situation, made even scarier by the fact that Walter pretty much lost the use of both of his arms, leaving him largely paralyzed. (I can’t imagine how frightening that had to have been.)
I can’t even convey what an immense relief it was on September 11th when this post from Walter appeared on Facebook: BENT, BUT NOT BROKEN. Those few words sounded so much like Walter – acknowledging the gravity of the situation yet holding fast to hope. (And when I read those words, I knew almost immediately that they were going to be the catalyst for a new song.)
Even as Walter was just beginning to turn the corner, the church was reissuing the invitation for him to come back and preach, whenever he felt up to it, and eventually the 17th of October was mutually chosen as a great day to aim for. And maybe it was the fact that there was a specific date to work towards that made Walter’s recovery so complete and convincing. All we knew was that he was feeling better and we were excited at the prospect of having him back.
Then a couple of days ago, just as his recovery seemed complete, Walter was suddenly back in the ER with most of the same symptoms as before – and it suddenly seemed like Walter’s return to our pulpit was going to have to be postponed yet again. But he was bound and determined to be there if he possibly could be, even as he was also realistic about how difficult it might be. In fact, he decided to write out his sermon (which he doesn’t usually do) and in the event that he found himself unable to actually deliver the sermon, I was to read it to the congregation in his place. I would gladly have done so (I did a similar thing some years back when associate pastor Kris Capel woke up one Sunday morning too ill to deliver her sermon) and was honored to be Walter’s Plan B. But trust me, no one was more thrilled than I was by the news that Walter would indeed be at church this morning and delivering his sermon himself.
In the weeks leading up to Walter’s long-awaited return to our pulpit, I was hard at work on a song for the senior choir to help commemorate the occasion – a song which I came to title “Bent, Not Broken.” As I worked on the song, I kept thinking about both Lynn and Walter and how wrong it would have been for the words to convey a “everything’s going to great” attitude- when life can be so much darker than that. I eventually came up with lyrics that (I hope) reflected the wisdom of that September 11th post from Walter:
BENT, BUT NOT BROKEN
refrain: I am bent, but I am not broken.
I am spent, but my strength is being revived.
I am wounded – I am weary – but O listening clearly:
My hope is strong: I am where I belong:
Safe in the arms of the Lord.
v.1 No matter how many tears you may shed
or what dark & looming shadows you may dread,
no matter how heavy the burdens you bear,
never forget that God is always there. ref.
v.2 For even when plunged into the darkest night,
my soul is still surrounded by the radiant light…
of Jesus my healer, redeemer and friend,
sustaining my weary spirit to the very end.
v.3 We were never promised a life of ease,
though we may fall to our knees
and we pray “Pretty Please.”
But even in the depths of our deepest need
we can rally on Christ
to be our Hope and Strength and Light. . .
Having the Senior Choir sing that this morning with both Walter and Lynn there was one of the top three moments I’ve enjoyed over all these years with the senior choir. And that was just one bit of the special music we had. Kate Barrow led a rambunctious medley in which the congregation and youth choir combined for a parallel sing along with “This Train is Bound for Glory,” “When the Saints Go Marching In” and “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot” – and during communion, her youth choir did a beautiful job of singing “I Can Only Imagine.” The liturgy was O the Joy, and Elaine Lewis, Cheryl Belland, and Lynn Leete anchored with guitar. Last and by no means least was violinist Ann Heide, who went more than an extra mile when she had I ended up playing a plethora of hymns while more than 90% of the congregation was walking to the front for the laying on of hands and to be anointed with oil. I had scheduled two hymns to be sung by the congregation, but that didn’t begin to take us even to the halfway point. Ann and I ended up doing entirely impromptu performances of “Beautiful Savior” “Lord of all Hopefulness,” and “Savior, like a Shepherd Lead Us” and you would have sworn that we had rehearsed every one of them. At the end of the service, I apologized for keeping Ann occupied during the healing rite, in case she had wanted to go up to be anointed with oil. Her reply was that she had experienced all the healing she needed simply in the playing of those beautiful hymns. And as for the folks who came up in that healing rite, they were young and old, of every background you can imagine… and a number of people had tears streaming down their cheeks.
But what I have not mentioned yet is the sermon which Walter delivered today- a beautifully crafted sermon which flawlessly combined the story of Walter’s own precarious health with the story of other people with their own struggles as well as their experiences of healing and help. My favorite part was when he talked about his time in the Ridgewood Rehabilitation Center and of how he had no intention at first of befriending anybody there – but how he came fairly quickly to realize that thinking of himself so distinctly from his fellow patients – Us and Them – was a big mistake. We do that kind of Us and Them separation all of the time, and Walter’s wise words I think will help a lot of us to do a lot less of that. (By the way, Walter has posted the text of his entire sermon on his facebook profile.) And as that warm, powerful voice reverberated through the sanctuary, I was thankful all over again that Walter felt able enough to be there. Before he had preached a single word – before a single note of music had been sung – it was already an incredibly inspiring morning just because he was there in our midst – Still Bent, to be sure, but Not Broken. Thanks be to God.
pictured above: Walter delivering his beautiful sermon this morning. I wish I could have managed to capture the image of Lynn in the second pew. She has made all the difference in the world for Walter through all of this, and he would not have been there with us had it not been for her .