Entry 1

I rose early this morning to drive into Salem. Although the promise of summer is in the air, many of my parishioners are still fighting the winter crud –particularly the elderly ones. I also hope to see Sylvia.

Driving from Wakefield to Salem slightly after dawn is spectacular, especially on clear mornings. Salem is east of Wakefield and as the sun crests over the horizon it appears as a fiery big orange ball that commands attention and dominates existence. I am awestruck by this sight. Not that I haven’t seen it before, but today it stirs different thoughts. I am still desperately grieving over the many deaths this last year, in just my church alone –not to mention elsewhere. It brings me face to face with a God that didn’t intervene. At least not on these occasions, or did He? I don’t know. And everyone looks to me for the answers. Ministers are supposed to know all there is about what God is thinking and doing –another fallacy from a world under great misapprehension. Forgive me Lord for my cynicism.


The beauty of the sun, as it becomes the morning dawn in and of itself, leaves me thinking of how beautiful this world really is? I smile as I reminisce about my trip to Europe after I graduated from college. Some of the places and scenes were so breathtaking. I will never forget the feeling I had when flying over the French Alps. In the expanse of white capped mountains I lost myself. The beauty in this world seems endless, but this morning as I travel the highway into town the vision before me has left me wondering, as beautiful as it is On This Side of Heaven, what must there be in eternity? I found myself smiling…until the blare of a car horn behind me. My thoughts were abruptly shaken back into the part of this world that is not so beautiful –including those people who have no ability to see beyond themselves. The sun became a menace as its color changed to an overbearing brightness which glare blinded every driver on the road. Collectively, we were now a community of people driving by faith, except for the few who feel they own the road –and they cannot see the danger they presented to everyone else –just like Bob Buck. “The Reverend Bob Buck” as he so proudly called himself. Another example of where God didn’t intervene.

First Covenant Chapel is a fine church with fine people. Reverend Bob Buck used them and hurt them. I still wonder what it is that makes a minister turn so far away from his calling. What is it that allows him (or her) to lie and deceive, and all “in the name of God”? As I drove along into the blinding glare I had a vision. St. Peter was standing at the pearly gates. Buck was there and they were chatting. I heard Buck talking –making his case that he had indeed led many people to the Kingdom of God. And then I heard St. Peter say, “Yes, but ten times that number turned away from God because of you.” Lord, should I ever begin to lose sight of my calling, please remove me from the ministry. Buck has left wounds so deep that tears can puddle in them. Now, I am left to clean up the mess. Maybe God did intervene.

Yours, Ben.