The Goodbye

I think I laughed the whole time! 

I could not have asked for a better goodbye.  


My CTK was so faithful in celebrating and reflecting with me over the last six and half years of ministry together.  The night was a perfect combination of laughter, prayer and thanksgiving.  Many thanks to Scott, Peggy and Mark for making it all happen!  And to Chris for cooking my favorite meal--which included lima beans!  

Bill certainly entertained the crowd with his quoting Whitney Houston and story about hearing There is a Balm in Gilead during my sermon.  

Richard stole the night by ending his speech with, "I am going to end the way any civil engineer would...with a poem.  What?  You don't think civil engineers can write poetry?"  Richard did write a poem that captured all the ministry I have been involved in the last few years.  

Scott is simply the best.  He did however share some secrets--like the time I broke the chair at the movies.  I was so moved by his comments about how I have continually reminded this community that they are children of God. 

When given the opportunity to share, words seem to pale in comparison to what is my heart.  Yet, this is what I want everyone in my CTK family to know:  

I can remember the first time I put on a pastoral collar.  I was in the bathroom of Cokesbury bookstore trying on the black shirt with the white collar tab.  I laughed, trembled a bit and took it off quickly.  I wasn’t sure that the reflection looking back at me fit. 

And so began my journey as Vicar K.  I am daily thankful for the opportunity to have served as an intern at Christ the King.  While many of my peers where glorified youth ministers in their internships, you trusted me with much more.  You trusted me with youth bible study, with preaching, with pastoral care, and teaching.  I was able to “try on” the collar while at the same time explore diaconal ministry. 

Soon I would trade the collar for a basin and towel finding my place in the ELCA as a consecrated diaconal minister.  I will never forget having my feet washed and being given this charge, “serve the needy, care for the sick, comfort the distressed, and, through words and actions, witness faithfully to God's love for all people. Cross every barrier that stands between the church and its ministry in the world. Seek out those places where the gospel of Jesus Christ meets the world's need. Empower, equip, and support all the baptized in the ministry of Jesus Christ. Lead us all in proclaiming the gospel in witness and service. And be of good courage, for God has called you, and your labor in the Lord is not in vain.” By God’s grace and through your love and support this is a charge I am striving to embody. 

Early in my ministry you gave me the greatest gift—the freedom to discover me, to discover my gifts and where the God might use them for God’s glory.  It is in your midst I found me.

I knew my time as vicar wouldn’t last forever and was overfilled with joy as an offer to join the staff full-time was made.  I looked forward to my first “real” job with excitement and a healthy dose of idealism. 

And then cancer came.  I am not sure what is worse, being told you have cancer at 25 or having to call your parents and tell them.  I remember it so clearly.  I left the doctor’s office knowing that my world have changed but having no idea what that change would mean for me or my calling.  I drove to Starbucks (Yes, Chai Lattes soothe the soul) and read through the book of Jonah.  The story of this runaway prophet spoke to the depths of my soul and assured me, “You can’t run from God.  Cancer doesn’t have the power to destroy God’s rare, relentless grace.” 

And then I came to church.  It was Ash Wednesday.  A sobering day to discover you have cancer.  We are dust and to dust we will return. 

Within ten days I had gone from hearing I had cancer to surgery and recovery.  I have shared many times that I couldn’t pray during that time.  In fact, it was probably months before I was really able to pray.  It may have been anger, shock or despair, likely a combination of all three but I couldn’t pray.  

During this time, I believe with all my heart, you sat Shiva with me.  In the Jewish tradition, after a death, the community comes and says prayers with the grieving.  The grieving isn’t forced to pray the words.  They are merely reminded by their community and their voices that they are not alone.  One day, when the grieving is ready, their voices will join those of their faithful community and rejoicing will return. 

When I couldn’t pray, I know that you prayed for me.  When I couldn’t rejoice, you rejoiced for me.  And you never left me.  You loved me with calls and cards and episodes of the Carol Burnett Show.  I couldn’t speak the words early on. I wasn’t ready, but you stood in the gap, sat shiva with me.  And after four months, I rejoiced with you.  I joined your prayers and was restored. 

I think this is the season I fell in love with Christ the King. 

Yet the thing that makes me most proud of this community and the ministry we have shared at Christ the King has been your willingness to partner in mission.  Over our six and a half years together, I have seen the conversations move beyond merely talking about loving our neighbor to putting our faith in action.  You have fed the hungry, you have clothed the naked, you have welcomed the stranger, you have struggled for justice and sought to make peace in broken places. 

Nowhere has this been more clear than in our ministry with Chile.  I remember so clearly when Francis, a worker in the school, said, “You came as strangers and now you are our friends.”  And with the bishop of the Lutheran Church in Chile (IELCH) when asked what we could do for them replied, “Continue to bring people.  When they come they realize that we aren’t statistics or the other but children of God.”  These beautiful children of God have captured our hearts in significant and life-giving ways.  To the teams I have traveled with, I am inspired by your courage, your risk-taking and your selfless love.  And CTK family, even if you haven’t traveled with us, you have welcomed the Chilean people into our lives here.  You have heard their stories firsthand from our missionary, Karen Anderson.  You have seen their faces every time you walked into Nagle Narthex.  You have prayed, donated, followed along on the journey.  My hope is that the Chilean people will always hold a place in this congregation’s heart. 

After six and half years of life-giving partnership in ministry, of finding me, of being buoyed during cancer, and joined in justice work, a new season for me begins.   Saying goodbye is certainly tinged with sadness, but also hope and anticipation, for both us.  I am looking forward to hearing the stories of how God is pushing you to become the congregation God is calling you to be.  And to see what the next season holds for me.  Wherever I find myself on my journey, know that you have forever shaped my heart and God’s ministry through me. 

Thank you.  

God's Love and Mine, 

Danielle Kathryn