A Church Merger, The Fallout, and My Friend Bill (part 3)

(parts 1 and 2)

It took me a long time to realize that Bill had lost his ministry. Likely for decades, every Sunday, he served communion. And then, all of a sudden, leadership made a decision, then one Sunday and forevermore, he didn't serve communion.

One Sunday after service, while his social-butterfly-of-a-wife was off being a social butterfly, I saw him wandering around the room, by himself, not talking to anyone. I hadn't yet taken communion. So, for whatever reason, I walked up to him and asked if he'd serve the elements to me.

Surprised, he looked up at me and instantaneously seemed more... alive. Like he had been waiting for someone to ask him. He smiled an I'm-not-supposed-to-let-you-see-me-smile at me and went into his "Jesus on the night he was betrayed took the bread..." baritone soliloquy by rote. I didn't think much of it, except to think that I probably made his day.

A few Sundays later, he sought me out after service and shyly and excitedly (yes, both shyly and excitedly) asked if I wanted to take communion. Sure, why not, it'll make Bill's day... Almost every Sunday since then, Bill has served communion to me. Now, it makes my day.

A year and a half ago, Bill and his wife sold their house 2 miles from the church and moved into a retirement home 25 minutes away. Bill told me that they were going to make the drive, because this was their church. And they did, for awhile. But one Sunday, he told me that they weren't going to come every week anymore. The drive was just too much for the old guy. They were going to find a church closer to their new home.

I was devastated.

It started out as me serving him by letting him serve me. It had turned into something that I loved so much. And I wasn't ready for it to go away.

(next: part 4)