Today’s Word from Pastor Jim…
Our journey together has spanned some 35 years. We were at Luther Seminary at the same time, her two daughters and our three grew up seeing each other on a regular basis. We shared Thanksgiving, summer cookouts at their Mount Vernon home, and on occasion vacationed together. She was a trusted colleague, serving just down the road. We would share parish war stories and strategies. We laughed and drank wine.
One of the earlier women to be ordained in the ELCA, she served three parishes with distinction. In all three instances she was the first female pastor to lead those congregations. In 2002, she received a call to serve at Anacortes Lutheran Church. She would follow a much- beloved pastor by the name of Dennis Hanson. It is not easy to follow in the footsteps of a beloved pastor. It is much easier to follow a schmuck.
For 17 years, Pastor Deb was a faithful pastor at Anacortes. She took interest in her people, she preached, baptized, married, and buried. But most of all, and most importantly, she loved. Her husband Lewis, also an ELCA pastor, was serving in Lake Stevens.
Our journey together has spanned some 35 years. Pastor Deb Benson called me 18 months ago. On an August day, my office phone rang at 7 a.m. her words took my breath away, “Jim, I am resigning my call and I am dying. Would it be Ok if Lewis and I came in to see you right now?” An hour and a half later we gathered around the baptismal font at Trinity Lutheran Church; we touched the waters, we recalled promises, we prayed into a mystery that is beyond human comprehension. And we cried; we cried for the stark reality that was before her, we cried in thanksgiving for friendship, and we cried in grief for dashed hopes and shattered dreams.
Felicia and I spent much of the last week sitting at a deathbed at the Benson family home in Mount Vernon. We surrounded Deb with laughter, gentle caresses, old stories and tears. On March 2nd, just days shy of her 62nd birthday, Deb Benson let go of this world and took the hand of Jesus Christ, gently crossing over before us.
Our journey together has spanned some 35 years. Her funeral was last Sunday at Anacortes Lutheran Church. She had spent countless hours planning every detail of her own funeral. But in the pandemic Spring of 2021, her funeral would be limited to 25 people. The service would be streamed online to allow others to grieve this loss.
Felicia and I would be counted among the 25 guests, joining her parents, siblings, nieces and nephews, her husband and her dear daughters. The drive last Sunday to Anacortes was subdued; grief hung in the air like a winter fog over a Whidbey lake. We were 6 blocks away from the church when I saw flashing lights of the Anacortes Police cars up ahead. An accident? No, the road was lined with dear parishioners, waving at the hearse, holding flowers and signs, touching their hearts or blowing kisses as a beloved pastor moved past them, to an empty church. At the entrance to the church the sidewalks were filled with children she had baptized, couples she had married, and widows whose husbands she had buried. Her casket was carried by pall bearers through a human tunnel of masked mourners, up the stairs of the church one last time.
It was a most touching tribute to a beloved pastor. Our journey together spanned some 35 years. Well, done Pastor Deb Benson, you were a good and faithful servant. I’ll see you on the other side.
Jim
