Near as Breath, Yet Untouchable: Reflections on Fogelberg Weekend

"Sometimes in the night I feel it,
Near as my next breath and yet untouchable.
Silently, the past comes stealing,
Like the taste of some forbidden sweet."
 ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞

A week ago right now, we were rehearsing for that night's Dan Fogelberg Tribute Show. It feels like just yesterday. It's taken me a week to come down from the high enough to clearly write my thoughts. (That, and the fact that's it's been a busy week in the real world too…)

As I noted from the stage last Saturday night, you could argue that all sorts of incredible things started with the Dan Fogelberg song, "Old Tennessee."

It was on a night many years ago, as I played that song for the first time with Rusty King, that something dawned on me.

We were at a clergy retreat, and I had never met Rusty. I knew we were both Methodist ministers. He, Paul Escamilla, and John Fleming brought their guitars up to my room to play music, while other friends just played games and talked the night away.

We started out playing songs we all knew, but that quickly drifted into Dan-songs. Then, into obscure Dan songs. Songs you'd only know if you had a copy of this. One of those songs was "Old Tennessee," and Rusty not only played it note-for-note, he also matched the harmonies.

And I thought, "Who is this guy? He knows as many Dan songs as I do."

That night of "Old Tennessee"-like songs, eventually led to a crazy "what if" from Rusty:

"What if we did a Fogelberg "tribute show" to raise money for mission?"

I thought it was a crazy idea. Who would come?
But Dan was my favorite singer songwriter of all-time. Do you think I was gonna turn down the chance to sing his music, backed by a 20-piece band?
Not a chance.

So we did the show. And what I assumed was pure self-indulgence on my part became two hundred and fifty people who belted-out the closing chorus of "Gambler" at the top of their lungs, and donated over $2,500 dollars to missions.

After a few days to allow the adrenaline to work itself out, we said, "Hey. Maybe we're on to something…"

What we were "on" to was Connections. The clergy members who founded Connections(1) were soon meeting to dream of a future, and asking…

"What if we kept the band going, did 70s Shows, and raised money for mission?"

That question, and the ability to dream increasingly larger "what ifs," has kept this wild and crazy band going now for seven years now. We've played over 40 shows for tens of thousand of people and we've raised $240,000 for some really fine causes.


"Down the ancient corridors,
And through the gates of time,
Run the ghosts of days that we left behind."
 ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞

We weren't the only folks dreaming "what ifs." Over in Peoria, Illinois, the family and friends of Dan Fogelberg were asking...

"What if we create a memorial to honor Dan, and invite fans/musicians from around the nation to come for the dedication?"

There'd never been a public memorial service after Dan's death. And as time passed, it seemed more and more like something needed to be done to publicly honor him. So, a group that has now morphed into the Fogelberg Foundation of Peoria was formed. Some really fine folks like Hugh Higgins, Eric Mills and Deb Jelinek worked to create a powerful weekend, where a memorial would be dedicated, and "DanFans"  and musicians from around the nation could come and participate.

Deb asked me if we could come. Rusty, Mike Sheehan and me were all a part of that initial year. It was incredible. We played for 300 passionate DanFans from around the nation, for his Mom, wife, and family. It was electric.

So our little tribute band had led to being part of the very first "Fogelberg Weekend,"  and new "connection" with souls around the country who keep the "legacy" alive.

Time passed. We kept doing shows. Mostly non-Dan shows, truthfully. (I think we've done the Fogelberg show five times?) Rusty got a new job in Allen, where he not only works for the church, but also with the Allen Symphony Chorus.

Ever the dreamer, Rusty asked his craziest question yet…

"What if we did a Fogelberg show, with a twenty-five piece orchestra, the Allen Symphony Chorus, and our band? And what if we invited DanFans around the country and had a "Welcome Party" like Peoria?"

The result of that craziest "what if" yet was last Saturday night at the Allen Performing Arts Center.

I added my one of my own "what ifs," when I learned that he just lived down the road in Lago Vista…

"What if we invited Glen Spreen (Seven-time Gold/Platinum Record recipient for his work with Dan. Orchestra composer on almost all his most-known work)  to come direct our orchestra?"

And so, the Fogelberg Weekend in Allen came together.

Days after our very first Dan Fogelberg Show in March of 2006, I wrote a blog called "A Magical Night."

So, what do we call last Saturday?

Ridiculous?
Awesome?
Beyond words?

What do you call a Tribute Show to Dan Fogelberg with Connections, a 25-piece orchestra, a 50-voice chorus, a thousand people listening, DanFam and musicians from around the nation, AND Glen Spreen?

"All of the above?"

We're still pinching ourselves.

Here's a pretty fine video of Nether Lands from the show. The balance may seem a bit off in parts...but all-in-all, it's wonderful...

On behalf of our little band, let me offer some "Thank Yous"  we said that night and elsewhere, but that we cannot repeat enough...

First, thanks to Connections and our core members.
When Rusty pitched the Fogelberg Weekend, I think that even many bandmembers didn't realize just how cool the whole thing would be. So, thanks to Connections, and its core members, for being willing to to continue to dream these big "what ifs."

Thanks to the DanFam members who spent their own money/time to drive/fly to Dallas to be with us.
It meant a great deal to have you here, and we're really pleased you got to be a part of it all and see what we do. The "connections" are now even stronger! Special thanks to Diane Panasci, who helped host a whompin' load 'of these folks.

Thanks to the Tribute Musicians from around the nation.
Thanks to Donnie Mills, Jay Hennesey, Steve Rodman, Bob Ritter and Mary Bomar, Tim Pastor, and Lee Giardina-Foran. Thanks for spending your own money and time to fly/drive here, and share your talents with all the folks in Dallas. It meant a lot, especially to me, Rusty, and Mike to have you with us.

Thanks to our own members, Mike Sheehan and Paul Simonson for doing yeoman's work all through the Friday night show and the Saturday one. Jesse Plymale sat in on keyboards during all of the Tribute Show too.

Special thanks to Sheldon Felich.
Sheldon organized Friday's show, and brought all the tribute artists together, played with us Saturday, and behind the scenes has done so much to continue the work of keeping Dan's musical legacy alive, including our show. Y'all should check out his great tribute band too.

Here is Sheldon and our own Wendy Curran, doing "Only The Heart May Know"

Thanks to Deb Jelinek for all her continued support.
Thanks for singing with us, and for being a part of the Fogelberg Foundation of Peoria. Thanks, from afar, to good folks like Hugh and Eric Mills. We love you guys.

Thanks to the Allen Symphony Chorus and members of the Allen Philharmonic Orchestra for also being a part of this big dream.
Thanks especially to all the behind-the-scenes work of Kathy Litinas, and other chorus members who worked hard to staff the Welcome Party.
Thanks to Caryn Fecht who directed the chorus during the show.
After the show, more than one chorus member said to me, "We should do this again."
(That's how the big-crazy "what ifs" start!)

Thanks to Glen Spreen.

You can't imagine what a thrill it was for you to be with us, and to have you conduct our orchestra. You are a kind and wonderful spirit, and we're so pleased you seemed to enjoy the night as much as we did. We're pleased the crowd gave you that well-deserved standing-O.

Thanks to James Miller, who wrote a whole ton of charts for this show.
It was all wonderful, and the music wouldn't have been there without your work.

Thanks to First United Methodist Church of Allen.
They deserve copious and overflowing thanks. FUMC Allen put thousands of dollars into this production. They contributed the resources of several of staff members. They did publicity, provided dozens of volunteers for meals, set-up, refreshments, and many other behind the scenes tasks. All of you deserve much of the credit for this success.
Thanks to our friend, Todd Harris, and to bandmates Brian McPherson, Rusty, and all the rest of the staff there.

Thanks to Rusty.
Keep throwing out those crazy, "what ifs" my friend.

Finally, all thanks to God.
Thanks to God for allowing us to continue this incredible work. With this show, we raised $12,000 for United Methodist Committee on Relief, and work they are doing to alleviate the suffering of Hurricane Sandy. We're grateful that God keeps opening these doors for our band. We'll try to keep walking through.

And thanks to Dan.
Thanks to Jean Fogelberg for being a gracious human being. We miss Dan a lot. Those of us who are "DanFans" miss him in a way that tugs at the gut.

Those of us who are privileged to play his music --across the nation, as solo acts or in large bands-- we find ourselves with the feeling that we've been given a "legacy" to maintain. It's a calling to make sure that others keep hearing the incredible music of this incredible artist and soul.

In fact, probably 90 percent of the audience Saturday night hadn't heard a lot of this music. Most came knowing  just "the hits."

I'm so warmed by messages I got --one while we were still tearing down just after the show-- from audience members who've said, "I just downloaded some of the songs I'd never heard." They were downloading Dan's music to their phone on the way home from the show!

That makes me smile. I'd hope it would make Dan smile too.

"Death is there to keep us honest,
And constantly remind us we are free."
 ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞

I know I speak for me, and probably for everybody else on stage during Saturday's show, but we knew in the moment that it was a one-of-a-kind night.

Many of you have mentioned our version of "Ghosts" last Saturday. Some have said it was a highlight of the show. (btw, it's one of the songs folks have told me they've now downloaded for the first time!!!)

When Rusty first pitched the idea of a show with orchestra/chorus, I told him I only had two real "musts":
a) We have to do "Ghosts;" and
b) I want to sing it.

Here's a video. It's never gonna capture the moment as it was, but it gives you an idea...

I used to listen to "The Innocent Age" on my record player while falling asleep my senior year in high school. I'd been a DanFan for several years(2), but that seminal record came out during that seminal year of my life. Many times, I'd put on "Side Four," and allow myself to drift off to "Ghosts." So, it's always been a personal favorite. (In fact, I just noticed that I cited it in a previous blog, written just after Dan's death...)

Without drifting too far away from the general point of this blog, let me opine that "The Innocent Age" was perhaps the last record of its kind.

Very few records would ever again be "double albums." Very few records by singer-songwriters would ever again have that impressive a combination of chart-topping hits and richly artistic numbers.

In fact, I have made the case before that Dan Fogelberg was the last of the great chart-topping "singer-songwriters," and that unbeknownst to all of us at the time, "The Innocent Age," was the last great popular "singer-songwriter" album. Ever. (3)

"Ghosts" is an amazing song. The past, the present, the future, all morph into one in that song. And, I'd like to believe, all three came together on that stage, in that moment, last Saturday.

The morning of the show, I hurriedly penned a two-page journal entry. Knowing that nerves might well be a problem that night, I prayed: "Let me just be in the moment…"

During the whole show, but especially during "Ghosts," I really felt like that happened. Like we were all aware of just how special this was, and what an honor for each of us to play our parts.

It felt like we left it all on the stage.

For me? In that moment, I recalled all those nights, listening this song in the dark of my high school room. I thought of all the beautiful souls who love Dan's music, gathered into that hall for one evening.

I even imagined Dan himself, having stepped into life beyond life, singing back to us: "Death is there to keep us honest, and constantly remind us we are free."

Now and then, past, present, future all do come together in one Kairos moment.

For all of you who were a part of this special weekend….
Thank you….thank you….thank you.

(BTW...check  back, as I will add video clips to this blog as I can work them in....EF)

Notes:
(1)Rusty King, Me, Frank Rahm, Paul Escamilla, John Fleming, Ann Willett

(2) First, through the "FM" soundtrack, and "Gambler." That led to buying "Souvenirs," to hear the original context. Then, I went back to "Home Free" and worked my way forward in time.

(3) This is not to say that Dan did not have success after this. He did. Nor is it to say that others have not had it since. They have. But in the early 1980s, pop music was just about to change drastically. The era of the singer-songwriter dominating the airwaves of pop radio…which you can trace all the way back to folks like Dylan, and then through folks like James Taylor, Carole King, Cat Stevens, Harry Chapin, Jackson Browne, Stephen Bishop…even bands like Eagles…that era was drawing to a close.

Dan, being among the youngest of this generation, produced IMHO, the last, great opus of that era: "The Innocent Age."

Again, all these artists continue to produce excellent work to this day. That's not what I'm saying. What I'm saying is, the combination of their artisanship being rewarded with hits on the pop charts…that era was drawing to a close. Dan, I have argued many times, was the last of the great American singer-songwriters on pop radio, and "The Innocent Age" was the last great singer-songwriter record. It's a tour-de-force, and a fitting end to that era. He didn't intend for it to be this, but with 20-20 hindsight, we can say this now.

(Leave a comment below via your Twitter, Facebook or Google+ account. And, if you like this post, then "share it" or "like" it on Facebook by clicking the box below, so others can see too...)     

Read More

First Baptist Gets Tebowed

If you want to understand just how much the tectonic plates are shifting in America, pay close attention to the situation with Tim Tebow and First Baptist Church, Dallas.


Thank you, Tim, for quietly and firmly doing the right thing.


Mark these words of prophecy: despite FBC's impressive new building they will continue to see their religious and cultural influence wane.

Increasingly tolerant views toward the LGBT community --even from evangelical Christians like Tebow-- are what we will see more of in the future.


Increasingly, evangelical Christians will embrace tolerance of, and support for, the LGBT community. Increasingly, they will not believe that support for the LGBT community creates an inherent incompatibility with their Christian faith.

For us United Methodists: this is precisely what Adam Hamilton has been trying to tell you. (He's really preaching to all of American on this...)

These tectonic plates are shifting quickly. And it's likely that once things chance dramatically, the anti-LGBT folks will be looking around, feeling like they just got Tebowed in the fourth quarter. But, in fact, this is a slow, steady movement of the Spirit of God that has been coming for decades.

Hamilton's saying it. Tebow's living it.

And this is what we thousands of Reconciling Methodists have been trying to tell you too. For years.



We don't really care who you listen to.

We just hope you're paying attention. 

(Leave a comment below via your Twitter, Facebook or Google+ account. And, if you like this post, then "share it" or "like" it on Facebook by clicking the box below, so others can see too...)     

Read More

Tell Us What You Thought of the Show/Weekend

It's late at night, after the Fogelberg Tribute Show in Allen tonight.
I'm still exploding with adrenaline and love for how it came out...

1,000 of you came.
We raised over $12,000 for the relief of Hurricane Sandy.
80 musicians did our best to honor the musical legacy of Dan Fogelberg.

Here's what I'd like you to do:

If you were there, tonight, or last night, please leave a comment HERE at the end of this blog.

Yes, some of you have probably already commented over on Facebook. But those comments sort of vanish away forever. And we'd like to be able to keep your thought in a file for future savoring.

So...

What did you like?
What will you remember?
What feedback for any of us band, orchestra, chorus folks do you have?
Would you change anything?

Thanks in advance for leaving your thoughts here.

(Note: comments are "approved" on the blog. That can take hours, really. So, if they don't show up right away, patience. The next time I'll sign on, I'll get to them....EF)

  (Leave a comment via your Twitter, Facebook or Google+ sign-in. As always, if you like this post, then "share it" or "like" it on Facebook by clicking the box below, so others can see too...)   

Read More

Fogelberg Weekend

Hope to see many friend at the Fogelberg Weekend, this weekend in Allen!

Here a video we made about it too:

Read More

I Love You With All My Intestines

I opened my Valentine's Day card from The Judge a while ago. The cover had the generic Hallmark-like greeting.

But, inside, in her own hand, she wrote this: "I love you with all my intestines."

Now, thinking of that literally might make you wretch a bit, or wonder about the two of us. But me? It made me smile.

See, earlier this week, I was preparing to lead the Second Monday Series. This year, the series is focusing on Compassion. So, I've been doing some study on the Biblical words for compassion.

What I found is that, like many other ancient cultures, Greek and Bible culture located love and compassion in the gut, not the heart.

And there's a specific word I learned this week that I absolutely....um..."love." It's a word used for compassion in the Bible:

“Splagchnizomai”

Pronounced: “Splagh-Neats-Oh-My-ee”

Say that three-times fast.

“Splagchnizomai” denotes a kind of deep-level love and compassion that far outstrips romantic love.

“Splagchnizomai” means something like: To be moved, as in the bowels, hence to be moved with compassion, to moved with compassion, to feel compassion. It denotes a deep seated “feeling” and “emotion,” a visceral reaction of love, compassion and empathy.

We like to say that we "have a gut feeling" about something. Turns out, many ancient cultures agreed. The Greeks believe our emotions literally lived in our gut, and were not just created in them. Ancient Vedic and Chinese culture (and many others) also locate love and other emotions not in the heart, but in the gut. Civilization as far back as you can look locate "emotion" and "love" what we'd call "the core," or the "gut."

And even though we've lost some of this, we still understand how our emotions can be connected to our gut. Unacknowledged emotion can literally make us sick. That feeling of butterflies, that excitement of the stomach leaping and turning, can signify the most wonderful moment of our lives.

When our emotions get the best of us, when stress, worry, and anxiety are all we feel, it's stomach-churning. When we are filled with love, if our gut feels love and compassion, often the entire rest of our body and spirit feels centered and safe too.

The Bible locates love/compassion in the gut, at some crutcial moments, and in some of the most famous stories you know.

For example, in the "feeding stories" of Jesus, when he feeds the "five thousand" (or the four).

Jesus is trying to get away for some desperately needed prayer time. But when he arrives at his destination, he finds thousands of people ---a smelly, dirty, hungry, needy, hoard of humanity who have hunted him down like paparazzi hunting Brad and Angie. Only they don't just want a picture. They want a piece of him.

But instead of reacting in anger or petulance, the Bible says this:

“As he went ashore, he saw a great crowd; and he felt compassion for them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd; and he began to teach them many things.”

This same word, “Splagchnizomai,” appears in every Gospel version of the feeding stories.

Jesus has compassion on them. This faceless teaming hoard of humanity. Not anger, bitterness, or resentment. Compassion and love. For a teaming hoard he didn't even know.

Another place the word occurs is in the story of "The Good Samaritan." That story --which should convict the heart of every minister/clergy in any denomination-- casts the professionally religious as uncaring and fearful of the truly injured and sick.

Instead, it's a Samaritan --reviled as inbred infidels by the "religiously pure" of Jesus' day-- who plays the role of the good guy. When the professionally religious walk right past the injured man, it's the hated Samaritan who stops and renders aid:

“But a Samaritan, who was on a journey, came upon him; and when he saw him, he felt compassion, and came to him and bandaged up his wounds, pouring oil and wine on them; and he put him on his own beast, and brought him to an inn and took care of him.”

In this, Jesus says, the Samaritan is the one who understood what it means to "love your neighbor." Loving your neighbor means loving-compassion for your enemy; not saccharine, romantic love.

Finally, the word “Splagchnizomai” appears in the story of the Prodigal Son. That ungrateful slob who turns his back on his father and asks to be considered dead to his family. When he finally comes to his "right mind," and goes home to see if there's any place at all for him there, the Bible says this:

“So he set off and went to his father. But while he was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around him and kissed him.”

It's widely believed that the Father in this story is something of a stand-in for God. If so, and taken with all the examples listed here, you get a powerful overall message about God.

God has this same kind of deep-level compassion and love for the world...

...For teaming, smelly, hoards of humanity.
...For idiots who travel down bandit-filled roads by themselves.
...For ungrateful sons who act like bastards to their families.

That's how deep God's compassion and love runs.

Sure, there certainly are scriptures that talk about loving God, self, neighbor "with all your heart." But, "heart" is considered the center of  life itself. The heart, the Bible indicates, gives life to all the body.

Biblically, then...

Heart = Center of our life.
Gut= Center of our love.

On this special day of chocolates and roses, we throw down the phrase "I love you with all my heart," with wild abandon. Frankly, we throw it down a lot of other times too.

But far too often, the heart-love of this day, or of the world in general, feels like it's a mile wide and an inch deep. It's schmaltzy, romantic love, forgotten the moment the rose wilts and the chocolate wrappers are in the trash.

But there's a deeper love. A love you feel in your gut. A love that moves you to your gut. Maybe it starts with how you feel about your children and your individual family. Maybe this is the place we notice it most. We think of them and our gut literally moves. The butterflies flutter.
Here's a song  I wrote about that.

True faith is a bedrock trust in a love that rests in the gut, not just some intellectual propositions in our head.



It's knowing that you are loved by God, like a father loves an errant son.
It's knowing we're called to love teaming masses of people we may deeply resent. Again, not with platitudes and wooden handshakes...but with bedrock gut-love. Exactly as we love our families.

We're called to love Democrats and Republicans.
Gays and Lesbians, and those who hate them.
Immigrants, and those who would deport them.
Our own families, and the families of folks we resent-the-hell out of.
That's the love and compassion God calls us to.

So, while I've never yet seen the Valentine's Day card with this greeting, I'd love to. I'd pay good money for one.

Because the card God wishes we'd send each other every day is:

"I love you with all my intestines."

That's the love that can save our world.

  (As always, if you like this post, then "share it" or "like" it on Facebook by clicking the box below, so others can see too...)   

Read More

Ash Wednesday with Ryan Woods

Tonight at Northaven, I'll be inviting our folks to watch this short, but powerful, video from Ryan Woods. Ryan died of his cancer last Fall, but his openness about his dying stands as a challenge to all of us to live the time we have left.

As he says in the video...
 

"We're all in the process of dying.

So the question is: What kind of story are we going to live out as we're dying?

I would just invite people to live out a beautiful story...to live out their lives, make beautiful music, regardless of what kind of brokenness they have to deal with.

And on our journey toward death, which is inevitable, we have the opportunity to let a beautiful story be told. And it's up to us to allow that story to become something beautiful."

-- Ryan Woods

Time is short. For all of us. We are dust, and to dust we shall return. Ash Wednesday is the day each year where we stand and look death straight in the face, without flinching, and ask ourselves the very question Ryan asks in this video:

What kind of story are we going to live out as we're dying?

The season of Lent then beckons to us. It beckons to us to "turn in a new way," to make the choice to live into our lives to the fullest, loving God, loving ourselves and loving our neighbor with new and renewed passion.

Hope to see you tonight at Northaven.
And if we don't, may your Lenten journey help you turn back toward life, and back toward God.

Read More

My Introduction of Bill McElvaney

The following is the gist of my introduction of Dr. William K. McElvaney, as he received the "Distinguished Alumnus Award" tonight from Perkins School of Theology. It includes some biographical info that I omitted, since it was also in the printed program, but that makes sense to include here. I am deeply honored that Bill invited me to present him tonight, and hope you enjoy it.

I have known William K McElvaney now for many year...as a student of his at Perkins, as a mentor of mine in my early ministry, and finally in his role as Emeritus Pastor of the church I serve, the church he once served: Northaven United Methodist.

So I am deeply honored to introduce him tonight.

With all apologies to the entire rest of the outstanding Perkins faculty, the thing I have always said about Bill is that he was my favorite professor. That's absolutely true. I'm well beyond needing to score points with him.

It was not just Bill's teaching that inspired me. It was his life. His witness. His ministry. His personhood. It gave me: HOPE.

And so, the hope Bill gave me was in something very specific: That you could be a white boy from North Dallas and still turn out OK.

You see, as a Perkins student --drinking up the various theologies of liberation floating around in the mid-to-late 80s-- it was not at all clear that this was possible. ( ie, to be a white boy from North Dallas and turn out OK)

But here's what Bill taught me: that you could be a son of great privilege and yet make the personal choice to be justice-centered, inclusive, welcoming of all races, genders, sexual orientations, and economic circumstances.

Bill's life seem to be a constant answer to the question not "Where are you from?" but "Where are you going? How will you stand for, stand with, those who did not have the chances and opportunities you did? How you will give voice to those who have none? How will honor your past, but not be bound by it? How will you speak a word of hope to the people who are like you, but also the people who are very different from you? How will you love all God's people?"

One way of seeing Bill's remarkable 50-year career is that he has constantly been answering these questions, again and again and again.

Bill's story starts here: in this great church in our connection (Highland Park UMC in Dallas). His family had deep ties to Dallas, and to Highland Park. His father was one of Dallas' great civic leaders in his generation. During my Perkins days, I was also an undergraduate Hall Director, and used to take my meals across the street at the cafeteria in McElvaney Hall. Every day, I walked past the painting of Bill's father which hangs in that Hall....you can clearly make out the family resemblance.

And so, every day, I was reminded of Bill's amazing journey. Because Bill started down that same path as his father...earning a business degree and an MBA. But three years into a business career, God tugged on his heart, and he was called into ministry.

He graduated Perkins, did postgraduate work in at Union (in New York City), and served the church.
 Bill was founding pastor at St. Stephen Methodist Church in Mesquite. He moved from there to Northaven, as Senior Pastor during the tumultuous late 60s and early 70s.
From there, he went on to become the President of St. Paul Seminary in Kansas City for more than a decade. And when that time ended, he found himself back in Dallas, back across the street from his old home church, as Professor of Preaching and Worship at Perkins. And finally, in retirement, he finds himself at Northaven, still teaching, preaching, writing. In just the past two years, Bill has helped us start a new, major lecture series: "Faith Voices on Justice."

So I want you to clearly note in this is just how wrong Scott Fitzgerald was. Not only did Bill McElvaney have a second act...he has had a third, fourth and fifth too.
-- Young businessman
-- Young preacher and pastor
-- Seminary President
-- Seminary Professor
-- Retired, twenty-year advocate for the oppressed and marginalized.

I believe you must agree with me that few ministers you will ever know have such a diverse and unique arc to their career.

Bill has served on boards such as the Maguire Center here at SMU, the Dallas Peace Center, The Wilkinson Center, Salud y Paz, The Greater Dallas Community of Churches, and many others.

He's the author of at least nine books that I could count, including his most recent "Becoming a Justice-Seeking Congregation," based in large part on the ministries and people of Northaven Church.

Bill and Fran founded the "McElvaney Award for Peace and Justice" given to SMU students that highly value these traits.

And along the way, by his side all the time, is Fran.
Fran and Bill are an amazing team. They are pastoral dynamos, constantly checking-in on members and friends, passionate about staying connected with the church. Fran is Bill's constant companion, writing editor and has gradually...and every-so-slowly is saving him from being a social media luddite.

Their love, their passion and zeal for each other and for serving the world, is an inspiration to us all.

Bill and Fran have two children-- John, who is with us tonight, and Shannon, who lives with her family in Massachusetts. And I love hearing Bill, over the years, speak lovingly of his children.

To show just how much his life has changed, and with his permission, he's allowed me to share with you a story of his life he once shared with me. As an undergraduate in the 1950s, just across campus here at SMU, Bill once stood among fraternity brothers and defended its segregationist admission policies.
This was Bill, the young fraternity man.

But just a a decade later, Rev. Bill McElvaney would be marching alongside a sea of African Americans, when Dr. King's "Poor People's March" came to Dallas. In fact, Bill was one of the only white preachers, one of the only white people, to march alongside African Americans that day, even against the desires of some Northaven members.

You see, Bill McElvaney has always understood that God can transform lives. Even his.

Bill continues to believe God can transform lives. So it as been, in more recent years, that Bill has been in passionate solidarity with the LGBT community. Because he understands that on this issue, God is still transforming lives.

So complete is Bill's love for the LGBT community, that he and Fran are "grandparents of choice" of several of Northaven's LGBT families. I recall a recent sermon he preached at Northaven where --to protest General Conference, to stand in solidarity with LGBT community-- Bill wordlessly took the stole from his neck, and placed it on the table-- standing with those not allowed full participation in the church.

Bill talked about this kind of transformation, in his great book "The Good News Is Bad News Is Good News."

This has been a deeply important book for me, as it described the journey that people of privilege can make as they allow God to work on them. Here's how Bill says it in the book:

"Thank God the gospel has interfered with my life in countless ways. When I have sought security, the gospel has pointed me to loving risk for others. When my vested interests have blinded me, the gospel has beckoned me to open my eyes to the world beyond my own interests. When I get hooked on status and prestige, the gospel holds before me the picture of a crucified Savior..."

The life and ministry Bill has led got him called "Communist" in more than one decade. (And that's hard to do!) In a 1969 rally for peace, the marchers had been harassed all along the route by John Bircher-types calling them communists. When they arrived at Dealey Plaza, red paint was thrown on the speaker. It also got on Bill.

And just a few years ago, while protesting something I won't mention here, Bill was called out on "The Colbert Report" for being, and I quote, one of two "professors Lenin and Marx." Of all the times Bill has ever been mentioned in the media (and there have been many) Bill says nothing generated that much talk and conversation.

Called communist, for real, in the 60s; and in jest this decade.

Here's a picture of Bill and me at a large peace really, just before the beginning of the Iraq War.

As pastor of St. Stephen, Bill helped lead an interfaith effort that desegregated the Mesquite Public Schools.

Bill visited Central America often in the 1980s and 90s, has stood for the rights of immigrants, and has written and preached, powerfully on "solidarity with the poor."
Bill advocates for peace. But what I love about his witness for peace, is that he is passionate about non-violence. He has never been afraid to challenge Peace activists to be non-violent in all things.

As President of St. Paul, Bill pushed faculty and staff, at all levels, to come together. He challenged the hierarchy that sometimes exists in higher education and ushered in an era where everyone...from the oldest tenured professor, to the youngest janitor...saw themselves as a part of God's ministry team.

As Preaching Professor at Perkins, Bill had layfolks from Dallas churches evaluate our "live" sermons. In class, we weren't just preaching to a choir of seminarians and a professor...but to folks who would be in the pews.

When Bill was pastor at Northaven, he helped to start a second-mile giving fund called "The Human Development Fund." To this day it continues to give funds to many needy ministries in the Dallas area and beyond that deal with women, children, the poor. To date, this group has given close to a million dollars to worthy causes.

But of all the things that Bill McElvaney taught me, believe it or not, the most important lessons he taught me have been pastoral, not prophetic.

An early lesson he taught me, that I never have forgotten is this: before you can be prophet to the people, you must be their pastor.

You must visit the people in the hospital, sit with them at the time of death, listen to them as their share their burdens. You see, during all these 50 years --during all these incredible social movements we've mentioned just now-- Bill has also visited people. Up through the present day. He and Fran, and I often talk about Northaven folks who are sick and in need of prayer and healing.

"LOVE the people first," Bill says, "and they will give you the space and grace to be a prophet."

I have found this to be the truest, and most powerful thing he's ever taught me. And, I will observe that over the years I have seen many colleagues fail to grasp the simple, but deep, importance of this; and, sadly, suffer consequences because of it.

Finally, let me share with you that Bill McElvaney was the first teacher I ever saw cry. It was November 1989, and I was walking across campus, right out front of Perkins Chapel, and he was coming back the other direction. And he was in tears. He had just heard of the murder of the six Jesuit Priest in El Salvador, and their two coworkers. And I remember being deeply moved that this professor could be so moved by the murder of people thousands of miles away.

But you see, Bill always allowed his life to be changed ...in Mesquite, at Northaven, in Kansas City, at Perkins. He allowed his life to be changed by his ministry for and with African Americans in the 60s, Immigrants and the Poor in Central America in the 80s, LGBT persons in the 90s and today.

Even today, Bill's life continues to answer these questions:

"What will you do with what God has given you? How will stand for, stand with, those who did not have the chances and opportunities you did? How you will give voice to those who have none? How will honor your past, but not be bound by it? How will you speak a word of hope to the people who are like you, but also the people who are very different from you? How will you love all God's people?"

Because he has allowed his life to be changed, God has used him to change our world for God. It's a lesson for us all, really.

So, I give thanks to God for the life and ministry of Dr. William K McElvaney, and I invite you to welcome him now...

Read More