Category: Blog

Questions may be frustrating because there does not seem to be an answer that proves to be satisfactory. Perhaps it is better not to have any questions at all.

Some time ago my uncle Richard Hirst offered my family the use of his double wide mobile home in Ocean City, Maryland. We accepted with great anticipation of spending a week on the beach. Our family was enlarged by the presence of my grandmother Edith. Edith Shultz was a missionary. My grandfather James was a missionary in the Far East, he was also a college professor, a seminary professor, a pastor and a magazine editor. Grandmother had incredible experiences.

One evening she turned to me and said, “You have to stop asking so many questions. They will be a source of difficulty for you. At the time I was a pastor of the Seventh-day Adventist Church in Wakeman-Manchester, Ohio. I responded grandmother don’t you have question. “No,” she said, “I do not have any questions.” Given her age and experience it was not difficult to accept her response. But I had my doubts. Who does not have questions?

 I had and still have many questions. I discovered a quotation from Anselm of Canterbury that is used on my personal stationary. “For neither do I seek to understand that I may believe, but I believe in order that I may understand.”

It may be understood in this way: “It is better to believe than it is not to believe.” This may sound contradictory but only if it is unqualified and taken to mean that one is to believe the unbelievable.

The struggle is what to do with what for you may be the unbelievable. Doubts raise questions. You may ignore your doubts or even reject them out-of-hand. Think of life as a long corridor that contains many doors. What is behind the doors may be hidden from view and understanding. To not believe closes and locks that door. If you choose to close the door you may close out future possibilities. To believe, even when you don’t believe allows the door to be opened and when you have additional information the contents of that door may be explored ultimately with enormous personal satisfaction.

We learn to live with our questions and our doubts. It may be boring or exciting. It is how we relate to questions and doubts that determines the outcome.

The complete introductory speech, spoken by William Shatner as Captain James T. Kirk at the beginning of each episode of Star Trek was: “Space: the final frontier. These are the voyages of the starship Enterprise. Its five-year mission: to explore strange new worlds. To seek out new life and new civilizations. To boldly go where no man has gone before!”

We know that space is not empty. There is a serious amount of debris in space. This year we celebrate the 50^th anniversary of Apollo 11 and the incredible moon landing. Neil Armstrong, Buzz Aldrin, and Michael Collins went where no man had gone before. These three filled an empty space and place in their lives, and our own lives. What an achievement

I acknowledge that I have empty spaces in my life. There are times in a day when I did nothing. I did not read nor contemplate any topic what-so-ever. To be frank I was lazy. Sometimes it pays to be lazy.

There is an empty place in my life. My Alma Mater, Atlantic Union College (AUC) lost its accreditation, and has been dissolved. With one or two exceptions the buildings have been sold. I am left with two pieces of paper, my diploma and my transcript, and my memories of events and fellow classmates.

I had a professor of English, Dr. Stafford who taught me to write a clean essay. I don’t know how many times I wrote what I thought was a very good essay on some subject in either American, Ancient, or English lit and every time the paper came back with a statement written in large red letter, “SERMONIZING.” I had to look that one up to see what Dr. Stafford was trying to communicate. I let you look that one up.

One other memory that stays with me was when I received a telephone call from my Uncle Gerry Shultz. He told me that the Rev. Don Hunter, President of the Ohio Conference, was flying into Boston’s Logan International. I was to pick him up and take him to a hotel next to Boston Commons. Rev. Hunter would interview me as we were driving through Boston traffic for a position as an intern in the Ohio Conference. I asked Gerry what he thought my chances were and he replied, “If he wants you, he’ll vote for you; if he doesn’t, he won’t.” I thought that was a good philosophy and have used it ever since. I did get the position in Ohio, first in Clarksfield, then in East Toledo and finally in Wakeman where I had a wonderful five and one/half years before I took a pastoral position in Bennington, Vermont.

My dad, Leslie R Shultz, was a Seventh-day Adventist (SDA) minister in Cleveland Tennessee. My grandfather was a Seventh-day Adventist pastor, missionary, college professor and magazine editor. It was expected that I would follow in their footsteps.

Dad, Leslie R Shultz (yes, I am named after my dad) died in 1940. His death left huge holes of space and place in my life, and the lives of Mom, brother David and sister Carol. There were no more hugs, or words of encouragement. There were no longer any bed-time prayers or morning worship. His extraordinary voice was stilled. No leading the music for the public meetings held by V A Lagrone. The chair at the head of the table is empty. Our home with Mom David, Carol and myself is empty of his presence.

We learn to cope with empty spaces and empty places. There is a very important quote from Dietrich Bonhoeffer, a Lutheran Minister and Professor who was arrested by the Nazi’s on April 5, 1943. He spent two years in prison, until April 9, 1945, when he was executed.

He wrote about loss and its meaning for him, which was significant, in his Letters and Papers from Prison. (Bonhoeffer, Dietrich, Letters and Papers from Prison (New York: The MacMillan Company, 1953, pp 119-121)

“I wish I could say something to help you in the time of separation which lies immediately ahead. There is no need to speak about its difficulties, but I have learnt something about it myself during the last nine months, having been separated during that time from all those I love, I should like to pass it on to you.

“In the first place nothing can fill the gap when we are away from those we love, and it would be wrong to try to find anything. We must simply hold out and win through. That sounds very hard at first, but at the same time it is a great consolation, since leaving the gap unfilled preserves the bonds between us. It is nonsense to say that God fills the gap; he does not fill it but keeps it empty so that our communion with another may be kept alive, even at the cost of pain.

“In the second place the dearer and richer our memories, the more difficult the separation. But gratitude converts the pangs of memory into a tranquil joy. The beauties of the past are not endured as a thorn in the flesh, but as a gift precious for its own sake. We must not wallow in our memories or surrender to them, just as we don’t gaze all the time at a valuable present, but get it out from time to time, and for the rest hide it away as a treasure we know is there all the time. Treated in this way, the past can give us lasting joy and inspiration.

“Thirdly, times of separation are not a total loss, nor are they completely unprofitable for our companionship-at least there is no reason why they should be. In spite of all the difficulties they bring, they can be a wonderful means of strengthening and deepening fellowship.

“Fourthly, it has borne in upon me here with peculiar force that a concrete situation can always be mastered, and that only fear and anxiety magnify them to an immeasurable degree beforehand. From the moment we wake until we fall asleep we must commend out loved ones wholly and unreservedly to God and leave them in his hands, transforming our anxiety for them into prayers on their behalf.”

Living with empty places and empty spaces is not easy, but possible. After graduating from AUC with a BA in Theology (a seminary equivalent degree), I spent the first 8 years in the SDA ministry. In the early 70’s I left the SDA ministry and after a short pause, I began singing in the choir at First Congregational Church, Beloit, WI. The Rev Louis Gerhardt learned that I was an ordained minister and he asked his governing board to recognize my ordination and offer me the position of Youth and Young Adult Minister. After a year at FCC I became the pastor of the Afton WI church. Helga and I were married in 1978. In 1979 I became the pastor of Plymouth Congregational Church in Kenosha. In 1982 I became the pastor of First Congregational Church, Mukwonago. I retired in November 2000 but became unretired in February 2001 as I was invited to be the pastor of the Arena Congregational Church. I finally and fully retired in 2018. In addition to serving 5 Congregational Churches I also served the National Association of Congregational Christian Churches four years as a member of what was then Division for Ministry and seven years as Historian.

God called me to the pastoral ministry. There has always been a place for me. I learned that it did not make any difference where I pastored. All that mattered is that I was in the service of Jesus Christ. I am delighted that my empty spaces and empty places were blest by a God who loves me and provided for Helga and me.

So here I am sermonizing again. What do you make of that?