A caustic critic once said of a rather too prolific author, “He doesn’t have an unpublished thought!” I have often remembered that statement as I have written these blogs over the past several years. You might feel the same way!
I have mused on literature and life, on books, both current and ancient, on odd moments in life’s journey and on those I have met making such travels with me. The blog seems to have taken the place of the early essay, a form of literature that allowed one to concentrate on a small area of life, without too great an intellectual challenge to either author or reader.
This is my final such attempt, an “au revoir” to those of you who have read my words over the years. Thanks to technology, I know I have readers in the Far West and in Europe, down the street and in Asia. It boggles my mind since some of you I will never meet, but we have come to know each other. It has been fun to meet in cyberspace.
It is with enormous gratitude and a sense of loss that I say my farewells to my Marble friends, many of whom I know remotely. These have been years of incredible change, if one looks back to 1980 when I began here. Congregation and ministerial staff have changed radically in outward appearance, but the core of welcome and the joy, the positive thinking thrust of the church, is still there. It has not only survived the tumultuous decades at the end of the 20th century, but it has expanded its vision and outreach.
That grist mill where the men of the Reformed Church first met in 1628 is no more. The Christian faith of their descendants persists, even in the more chaotic world of 2017. We face issues that the burghers of Old Amsterdam could not imagine. Our children will have still others. It is useless to try to imagine them.
As I say good bye I can only remind each of us of the words that gave Jeremiah courage two and a half millennia ago, “The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, his mercies never come to an end; they are new each morning.”
I need no other mantra. May God be with you.