Start with the Ending

Rev. Mark Stringer

First Unitarian Church of Des Moines

8/26/01

I was at a folk concert a few years back when I heard a musician speak about how we live our lives backwards, that we do this whole lifespan thing all wrong.  He asked the audience, “Wouldn’t it be better to die first and get that out of the way?”  Think about it…if you did die first, then you could really enjoy your retirement.  You would have time to relax and travel and read and figure out some hobbies you want to do... really get a good life going.  Then after a while, you might want to go to work.  So you are given a gold watch and an office with a view.  You make a bunch of money.  But then you decide, 'Well, maybe money's not everything,'  so you change jobs.  You wind up changing jobs some more, until you find yourself doing more service kind of stuff, like working in a summer camp.  But then you give up on work altogether.  You think you just want to learn.  So you go to college.  You take enough drugs until you're ready for high school.  But then you're looking at simpler things until, with Zen-like simplicity, you're just looking at language itself.  And then you're past language…you're past all that talking. You're just listening and being and feeling.  You're completely alive.  Then you decide this whole incarnation is just too much of a burden, and you end up as a glimmer in someone's eye.

Living life the other way around.  Starting at the ending.  At first, the idea might seem like a silly brain teaser, but maybe there is something more there.  Think about relationships you’ve had.  Particularly those love relationships that have started with great expectations and fire and passion…so much so that you ended up simply not getting along.  All those hopes of the early days of the relationship just shattered and the broken pieces that remained became painful reminders of what could have…what should have been.  When relationships like these finally, and maybe mercifully, reach their end, though, there is something that can happen…a new clarity, maybe even a new friendship emerges…a new capability for communication that develops as you realize that, despite your differences, you’re both ultimately on the same side:  You are two people both in search of love and understanding, two people with hopes and dreams.   Suddenly, you can talk about things you’ve had to tiptoe around in the past.  You can be present…honest…realistic.  Then, if you are lucky enough to reach this place of understanding with your former partner, you may find yourself wondering,  “Wow…why couldn’t we talk like this before?  What would have happened if we could have started with this relationship…the realistic one?  After all, it’s the relationship that is made to last…”  At these moments, “starting with the ending” starts to look pretty good.  Indeed, it might be the perspective that is best suited for other kinds of relationships. 

Consider how this perspective might apply to the unique relationship that exists between a minister and a congregation, a relationship that some have referred to as a marriage of sorts.  I don’t think this is all that far off the map.  Like a married couple, we covenant together to stick with each other through thick and thin, to base our dealings in trust and mutual respect, and to do our best to be present to our respective needs.  Perhaps this is why I have often heard the first months of a new ministry referred to as the “honeymoon.”  This is a time when the minister and the congregation are doing their best to make a good impression, to put the others’ needs ahead of their own, to enjoy the giddy bursts of emotion and expectation that are similar to those we may experience when we find ourselves in the middle of a new love relationship.  For those of us who have experienced long-term relationships, though, it is easy to acknowledge that the early projections we place upon our partners are often based more on our own needs than on what our partners actually offer.  Much like the promises made at wedding ceremonies, sometimes the commitments churches and ministers make get muddied by unrealistic expectations and by assumptions based more on the needs of the individual players than on the needs of the greater relationship.  Along these lines, author Jane Smiley cautions those who would hold to their idealized expectations of marriage…and, I contend, of a new ministry.  She writes:

“You know what getting married is?  It’s agreeing to take this person who right now is at the top of his form, full of hopes and ideas, feeling good, looking good, wildly interested in you because you’re the same way, and sticking by him while he slowly disintegrates. And he does the same for you.  You’re his responsibility now and he’s yours.  If no one else will take care of him, you will.  If everyone else rejects you, he won’t.  He’s yours and you’re his.  He doesn’t beat you or abuse you, and you’ve made about the same bargain.  Now that you know what it’s like to be married, now that all the gold leaf has sort of worn off, you can make something of it, you can really learn to love each other.” (from At Paradise Gate)

Much like the first few months of a marriage, these “honeymoon” days of a new ministry are the days in which we may overly focus on our idealized visions of what our relationship should be, letting that guide our interaction in ways that serve to cloud the reality of what we actually have to offer.  Choosing to “start with the ending” then is a way in which we can base our new relationship in a more realistic context.  And I’m pleased to report that this approach has already begun here… 

Last weekend our Prairie Star District executive Nancy Heege led our church board, the committee on ministry, and the staff through a covenanting retreat where we were asked to reflect upon the history of this church, particularly the ministers who have previously served here.  She invited those present to recount the strengths and gifts of each of the ministries of the past twenty years or so, and to consider how these pieces fit together to form the narrative of First Unitarian Church of Des Moines.  As people shared their perceptions of the last twenty years, they seemed to recount the past without the emotional ties that often burden present relationships.  While there wasn’t always agreement about how the various ministries were perceived, there seemed to be a common recognition that the each ministry was the product of a relationship that depended upon both the minister and the congregation being honest and open about expectations, disappointments, and triumphs.  By getting us to share the perceived dynamics of the previous ministries, Nancy allowed everyone at the retreat to take a step back…to view the overall relationship between church and minister from a more holistic perspective.  Essentially, Nancy was asking us to start at the ending…not only the endings left from the ministries of those who have previously served here…but the ending that will inevitably come when the relationship I formally began with you on August 1^st reaches its end.

For me, keeping the ending in mind ensures that I will serve you with confidence and integrity.  Recognizing that the time of our relationship is, by necessity, finite, will prevent me from seeing this church as an extension of myself.  Respecting the inherent limits of our relationship will direct me towards decisions that serve the future as well as the present. 

Even before the board retreat, this church has had some practice in starting with the ending.  Annie Holmes, the minister who last served here, had the distinction of being what the UUA calls an “interim minister”.  She began her relationship with you two years ago with the clear understanding that she was bridging the gap until you called your next settled minister.  This interim position enabled her to be honest with you, to call things as she saw them, to help you give voice to your past and to help you focus on the possibilities of the future.  Hello…isn’t this the kind of relationship that you’d like for me to have with you, too?  I believe we would all be best served by reminding ourselves that my work here also falls under the heading of “interim ministry.”  Even if I am here for thirty years, my time with you will eventually come to an end.  Why not keep that ending in mind as we work together so that we can be sure that the investments of time, energy, and money that we make to this church are always tempered by the realization that our individual participation does not just serve the community as we know it, but enables the future participation of those we have yet to meet…those who will find here, like many of us have, a home for their questions…a common ground where they will be able to share their deepest values and work towards living an ethic of peace and justice.

Taken a step further, to “start with the ending” may be a great way to approach more than just our relationship as minister and church.  It seems to be a great approach to life itself, particularly for those of us who find little comfort or assurance in the notions of an after-life or an omnipotent God.  If death really is an end point, and it is difficult to know otherwise, then we have some responsibility for the lives we lead today.  If the time we have together truly is finite, then what we say to each other and do together matter a great deal.  The answers to the questions of our existence can only be approached by how we live today.  And how we live today is always impacted by the reality that we may not be here tomorrow.  The fact that our individual lives will come to an end is not something that should paralyze us.  On the contrary, it should energize us.  This is our one, precious life.  Recognizing that it will end might be the best motivator for us to savor what we have…and to work towards a better tomorrow for those who will follow. 

This is the beginning of a new chapter in the history of First Unitarian Church and in the history of Mark Stringer.  In the days, months and years ahead, we will do well to remember that our work together will be impacted more by our actions than by our hopes, more by our honesty and communication than by our unshared dreams and our secret expectations, more by the recognition of our inevitable ending than by the celebration of our present beginning.

So here’s to my final Sunday with you…whenever that may be, somewhere down the road…

I’m already looking forward to the party!

Closing Words

“What we call a beginning is often the end

and to make an end is to make a beginning.

The end is where we start from.”