Column from the Middletown Journal
by Pastor Dave Kepple
May 13, 2000


One of the rituals that comes with the death of a loved one is the responsibility to sort through their possessions, clothing and personal papers. Members of my family faced that unhappy task earlier this year, following the death of my mother, Barbara Kepple, on March 2. She died on a Thursday in March, just as my father had in 1964.

In sorting through some of Mother's old papers, I discovered she had kept a handwritten note I drafted for a school assignment. The date on it was Nov. 28, 1963, and the topic was Thanksgiving. The letter began: "Dear Mother and Dad, I am thankful for such dear parents."

Oh, it went on from there. The 9-year-old boy who wrote the letter also was thankful for "a house to live in, a bed to sleep in, food and water to exist, a nice school to learn in, and a good country to grow up and live in, a good community to live in." The nascent writer added as an afterthought: "I also am thankful for my clothes." It was signed, "Your son, David."

You know, I still am thankful for all those things on that list. But of all those items, I have to say it is my "dear parents" that stand out. Come to think of it, if I used the term "dear parents," I was probably being sarcastic at the time. But as a 46-year-old man, looking back with love, the phrase "dear parents" seems apt. For the dictionary says "dear" means "beloved; precious . . . (and) highly-esteemed." I think that's about right.

Mother is very much on our minds and in our hearts this weekend. In our church, as in many others, we'll be taking a few moments during Sunday's worship to recognize the many wonderful mothers in our midst as part of the annual Mother's Day observance. That's well and fitting. But forgive me if my mind wanders a bit to my hometown in the highlands of western Pennsylvania, and thoughts of the woman who used to jokingly refer to herself in a fake-Scottish brogue as my "old, gray mither."

She and my Dad raised us in the Presbyterian Church. Years later, when I became a United Methodist pastor, it seemed amusing to suggest that I was "predestined" to be a Methodist. In truth, however, by the time I was a teen-ager, I had no interest in attending any church or Sunday school. It was then that Mother came up with her devilish bargain. She said if I completed the process of confirmation in the faith (I believe it was called Communicants' Class), she would stop nagging me about going to church on Sundays. I went for the deal in a heartbeat.

The pact came back to haunt me along about 1992, when I began to perceive that God was calling me to the ordained ministry. Wouldn't you know it? Now I have to be in church darn near every Sunday!

I wrote a letter to Mother in 1993, telling her about my surrender to this "calling," and my excitement about the adventure that was starting to unfold. I know she felt happy for me (once she got over the initial shock!). Even this past year, as I moved into full-time ministry at Union Chapel, she made a point of saving printed copies of the Sunday sermons I sent her by e-mail.

On March 27, I traveled to Worthington, Ohio, for an interview with the Board of Ordained Ministry of the West Ohio Conference of the United Methodist Church -- a final hurdle in my pursuit of ordination. Though I was a bit nervous, I felt cautiously optimistic before the interview -- in part because of one of those "personal papers" of my Mother's which I chanced upon the first weekend in March.

It was a greeting card sealed in a stamped envelope with my name on it, Mother's return address, and on the back of the envelope was written the word: "Date?"

I opened the card and there it was -- a card bearing the cover message "As You Are Ordained Into Ministry," and closing "With Congratulations And Prayers For You."

It was signed, "Love, Mother."

The interview went well -- thank God! -- and I am to be ordained on June 18, which just happens to be . . . Father's Day.

Why am I telling you all this? I guess I just feel the need to say it one more time:

I am thankful for such dear parents.