In 1996, I put aside a dream; I departed from the seminary that had molded me, nurtured me, swaddled me.  I spent most of 8 years trying to get in to the seminary.  It was not an easy achievement.  I had married as a very young man, and spent 4 years in the military.  The Franciscans didn’t want me, partially because of my “militaristic” tendencies.  The Dominicans didn’t want me because, at 30, I was too old for them to properly mold me.  And diocesan priesthood also presented difficulties.  Then, in 1994, I was accepted!

And so many were quite surprised when, after only 2 years, I departed the hallowed halls of an institution I loved.  But what surprised many more was that I also left the church I professed to love.  In 2 years of seminary life, I learned that there could be no place for me in the church of my childhood.  While perhaps I could sneak through the process (academically, there would be no problem) at best I would never be fully welcome at the table set by the church.

But my faith was such I knew I needed some church home.  Within just a few weeks of my departure, I arrived in the embrace of my current home… a congregation in the UFMCC.

And it’s really about this church home that I write today.  For it isn’t MY growing up to which the title pertains.  Though, I suspect the preamble will be longer than the main text!

At some point early in my time at MCC, I met a lovely young woman and her son.  I remember a little boy with red hair and freckles… wearing shorts.  He stood out, I suppose, because at that time there were not a lot of children in our church.  Even so, Scott and I didn’t socialize very much with this young man, though his mother became a good friend.

Over the years, we watched the young man grow into a fine adult, first as he entered high school, then a few months ago as he graduated high school and set off for his collegiate career.

I do not know what transpired in the past several months while he was away at college.  Maybe nothing much of import.  But at some point, he made the decision to change his path in life.  He is taking another step as a man in this world.

And today, our congregation said goodbye, hopefully just for a time, to this young man.  We formally blessed him, and sent him on his way as he joins the US Army.  I wish I’d told him how proud of him I was.  Instead, I just cried watching the pain in his mothers’ eyes.  And in spite of his maturity, and the courage he is showing as he goes off to the Army, I sensed still some of the vulnerability of the youth I first met nearly a decade ago. 

I wanted to tell his mothers that this is a good thing for this young man.  That the military can grow him in good ways, even while knowing how dangerous this world is that we send our young men and women in to.  But we’re at war… wars, really.  

How can I reassure my friend in this time.  In reality I can’t.  I guess really all I can do is just be there for her… and for her partner.  And pray that my young friend comes through all that he has ahead of him with courage and maturity… the maturity that he has already shown in his life.  Pray that God will keep him… and all young men and women who serve in the armed forces of nations around the globe… safe.  And perhaps even better, pray that all the OLD men and women who send our youth in to harms way will find some way to bring them home, and to put these wars to a swift end.