Chapter 17

Jerry was about to marry the church, and despite what some newlyweds denied, he knew he would be a changed man from that moment on.

Back in Princeton, he prepared the ordination service. The guest list of about 100 included relatives, friends from seminary, friends from home and official attendees like The Rev. McCracken, the Moderator of the Presbytery, the Clerk of Session, the senior minister of his church and, of course, Rog, or more officially, the Rev. Roger Bogard. 

He embellished the service with an original piano composition composed by and to be played by an Oberlin Conservatory of Music friend. As well, he asked Nancy, his seminary friend, to read Wild Geese by Mary Oliver, a constant inspiration for him.

Then there was a robe and stole to be purchased. What’s with the costume anyway, he wondered. He looked it up. The robe covered his body so that the congregants would not be distracted. The stole symbolized taking on the yoke of service.

The Sunday in September turned out to be an Indian Summer day. The sun lay low, and the shadows long.

Jerry processed with his parents up the middle aisle and took a seat in the front pew. He turned around and there were all the children from his youth group beaming at him.

He reflected on his evolution in this church: first baptized, then squirming in the pew during unending services yet enjoying the organ and the choir, on to communicant’s class, then to adult membership and now ordination. 

Rog preached a sermon entitled “The Superman Complex.” He cautioned Jerry not to feel like he had to fix everyone’s problems and offered advice on avoiding burnout. 

The congregation spoke in litany with Rog:

There are different gifts

But it is the same Spirit who gives them.

There are different ways of serving God,

But it is the same Lord who is served.

God works through different people in different ways,

But it is the same God whose purpose is achieved through them all.

Each one is given a gift by the Spirit.

To use it for the common good.

“Moderator Weeks, speaking for the people of the Church, I bring Jerry Cradleman to be ordained as a minister of the word,” said Rev. McCracken.

Jerry’s knees shook as he stood before the congregation. 

The Moderator asked Jerry, “Do you trust in Jesus Christ, your Savior, acknowledge him Lord of the world and Head of the Church, and through him believe in one God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit?”

“I do,” Jerry answered. He had concluded it was one great mystery, let’s not quibble with the details.

“Do you accept the Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments to be, by the Holy Spirit, the unique and authoritative witness to Jesus Christ in the Church universal, and God’s word to you?” 

“I do.” And to say that, required some exegetical juggling. The Holy Spirit was the inspired writings of countless authors; first the oral composers, then the writers, then the editors over the centuries by the developing churches. And, sure, that works, they all contributed as God’s word.

“Will you be instructed by the Confessions of our Church and led by them as you lead the people of God?”

“I will.” Jerry made a mental note to read the damn Confessions of the Church.

“Will you be a minister of the Word in obedience to Jesus Christ, under the authority of Scripture, and continually guided by our Confessions?”

“I will.” He didn’t like that word obedience. It rankled him.

“Do you endorse our Church’s government, and will you honor its discipline? Will you be a friend among your comrades in ministry working with them, subject to the ordering of God’s word and spirit?”

“I do and I will.” OK, OK, so he might get a little undisciplined now and then.

“Will you govern the way you live, by following the Lord Jesus Christ, loving neighbors, and working for the reconciliation of the world?”

“I will.” He knew a lot of people out there who might challenge his answers, but then, hey, viva la difference.

“Do you promise to further the peace, unity and purity of the Church?”

“I do.”

“Will you seek to serve the people with energy, intelligence, imagination and Love?”

“I will.”

“Will you be a faithful minister, proclaiming the Good News in word and sacrament, teaching faith, and caring for people? Will you be active in government and discipline, serving in courts of the Church, and, in your ministry, will you try to show the love and justice of Jesus Christ?”

“I will.”

He kneeled. He felt the weight of hands on his back, the hands of his mother and father, the hands of his church elders, the hands of his youth group. The moderator prayed. In this human baptismal font, the water of love christened him. As Jerry arose, he felt like he was levitating.

Jerry prayed aloud as directed: “Almighty God; you have chosen me. Now give me strength, wisdom, and love to work for Jesus Christ.” 

The moderator placed the stole around Jerry’s shoulders and said, “Jerry, you are now a Minister of the Word in the Church. Whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God through him. Amen.”

They all shook his hand and hugged him.

The newly ordained reverend turned to the congregation and said, “As a wedding band reminds me of the vows of marriage, so this service will remind me of my vows as minister.”

He lifted his right hand — Oh, Jesus, what is the appropriate way to raise my hand for the benediction, he wondered. Should I crook my arm? Should I trace the Trinity? — to a partially raised crooked position and pronounced: “The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit, be with you all. Amen.”

The Reverend Jerry Cradleman processed down the middle aisle with a shit eating grin on his face.

***

Jerry’s mom and dad, Roger and his new wife, Sam, Nancy and Randy, who had played the piano solo, convened to a local restaurant to celebrate.

“Jerry, I never thought you’d do it. I’m proud of you,” said his dad.

“Well, thank you for your help.”

 “You’re heading back to where I was born, California.”

“Yeah, pretty strange.”

“I have to say, I’m sorry you’re not going to work at Deoderex, but the offer stands.”

“Good to know.”

“Your mother and I got you something for the occasion.”

Jerry tore open the gift box to find a self-winding Timex wristwatch with a black band and jade green face.

“We figured you’re going to have a lot of appointments to keep track of and we don’t want you to be late for a single one,” said his mom.

“Thank you, Dad. Mom. Thank you.” He suddenly had a headache.

“You know, as a baby you always yelled,” said his mom. “You just liked to yell, at any moment, in a grocery store, in church, anywhere. It sent me through the roof; it was like a sonic bomb. Land sakes. Well, now, you can just throw in a yell here and there during your sermon.” She got the giggles.  “That’ll keep everyone awake.”

“I remember how you got lost at the Sussex County Fair,” said his father. “You must have been ten. When I found you and grabbed you, you started crying. I was sure glad I didn’t have to come home and explain to your mother how I lost you.”

Jerry remembered that. He also remembered that immediately afterward his dad put him on a rocket ship ride. Inside, still recovering from the panic over being separated from his dad, he watched on a screen, as his ship blasted into space, Earth getting smaller and smaller. He never felt so lonely.

***

Jerry stood at the front door beside his mom and dad, ready to go, yet yearning to stay. How strange. Now that he was finally free to leave, he wanted to stay.

 “Dad….Mom.” He couldn’t hold back the tears, nor could they. They hugged for a long time, then Jerry turned, trudged out the door and climbed into his packed car.

He sparked the engine and blasted off, horn honking, hand waving. In his rear view mirror, his mom and dad grew smaller and smaller.