[Oe List ...] 3/31/11, Spong: My Friend: Richard Lester Shimpfky 1940-2011

[elliestock at aol.com]

     Homepage        My Profile        Essay Archive       Message Boards       Calendar









My Friend: Richard Lester Shimpfky 1940-2011
Recently, I preached at the funeral of one who had been a close friend for more than 40 years.  His name was Richard Shimpfky.  Let me tell you something of his story.
I first met Richard when he was a senior at the Virginia Theological Seminary in Alexandria, where he was described by Clifford Stanley, the very popular professor of Systematic Theology, as “the best student to attend this seminary in a decade.”  Upon his graduation, he applied for the position of assistant rector on my staff at St. Paul’s Church in Richmond, but I did not choose him primarily because it would be a year before he was made a priest and I needed more immediate help.  He never forgave me!  He went on to serve a curacy in Arlington and then became rector of All Saints Church in Alexandria, where his talents began to be obvious.  We were at that time colleagues and fellow priests in the Diocese of Virginia.
In 1976 I was elected Bishop in Newark and when the first vacancy occurred in one of our major churches, I nominated Richard, among others, for that rectorship. This particular church was at that time not in a good place.  The previous rector had been forced to resign because of some personal improprieties.  He was very able and very popular and half of the congregation was angry with the half that forced his resignation.  To make matters worse, the young assistant, only a year out of seminary, began to campaign for the now open rectorship.  He was supported in this quest by one of the two top elected officials of the congregation, but he was vigorously opposed by the other.  Petitions circulated throughout the congregation for and against this man’s ambitions.  To keep half the congregation happy, I agreed to allow this assistant to be involved in the search process along with other candidates, believing that in any comparison with a mature and experienced priest, he would not be chosen. When the list got down to the final three, one of them was Richard Shimpfky, one was a much respected senior priest from within our diocese and the third was the young assistant.
When the vestry interviewed the senior priest from our diocese, he found the divisiveness in the congregation so hostile and so widespread that he withdrew his name from further consideration.  The vestry then called Richard Shimpfky to be their new rector but, after long consideration and for the same reason, he declined their invitation.  I thought I would have to accept the young assistant.  I called Richard literally to beg, coerce, threaten, twist arms, whatever it took.  He reminded me once more that I had turned him down when he applied for his first position.  I apologized anew, but asserted that this was neither the time nor the place to get even!  It worked.  He came, but the hostilities in the congregation continued unabated after his arrival.  Now half of them blamed Richard for being there when they were still committed to the former rector; the other half blamed him for the fact that he had taken the position they hoped their former assistant would fill.
Churches can be destructively demonic.  Richard was miserable during those early days.  His wife, Jamel, fainted at a congregational meeting.  Finally, when he could stand it no longer, Richard like all good leaders, decided to address the issue publicly and head on in a Sunday sermon.  It was that time of the year when New Year’s resolutions are both appropriate and easy to make.  He began by describing how fractious the congregation was and, as a result, how unhappy his whole family.  He reminded them that he was not the cause of their disharmony, that he was not present and played no role in the decisions that marked those battles, that all he had done was to accept their call to become their rector.  He acknowledged that he was tired of being the recipient of their misplaced hostility.  Then in an act of rare genius, he said, “Will the congregation please rise?”  They rose.  Then he said, “Repeat after me” and he began a fascinating litany. “This has been a very bad year!” he said.  The congregation dutifully repeated, “This has been a very bad year!”  Richard continued, “But it is now over.”  The congregation said, “It is now over.”  Richard went on, “We must leave yesterday’s battles in the past.  We are called to live in the future.”  Once more the people repeated verbatim.  Richard then said, “We will not let yesterday’s pain ruin tomorrow’s hope.”  Again the congregation repeated his words.  Then he said “Amen.” and they said “Amen.” and broke out into loud applause accompanied by both cheers and, in some cases, streaming tears.  Richard stepped down from the pulpit and on that day he became in fact, not just in title, the rector of that congregation.
For the next thirteen years he was a very popular priest and he became a highly-respected member of the diocesan clergy family.  He developed a stewardship program in his parish that was later adopted in the diocese.  He was committed to Christian education for all ages and was soon the director of the Christian Education Commission of the diocese with the assistance of a lay leader from St. Peter’s in Morristown, named Christine Barney, who today is my wife.  After being rector for five years, he took a three months’ sabbatical and used it to organize the Program Office of the Diocese, making it both lean and effective.  He was appointed to chair the Commission on Ministry to oversee our ordination process and was soon elected to the Standing Committee, the highest governing body of the diocese.  Quickly he became its president.  At that time the diocese was challenging old prejudices and breaking out of old barriers as this diocese has done many times in the past.
We had ordained the first woman priest from England because she could not be ordained at that time in her home country and thus, quite deliberately, placed new pressures on the leadership of the Anglican Church there.  We opened the doors of our churches and hearts to the gay and lesbian community and welcomed them to come to our churches “just as I am,” promising them an honest welcome and an enveloping love.  Ultimately, we agreed to ordain the first openly-gay man living in a committed relationship, a position beyond that which our own national church was not willing to go at that time.  The status quo people fought back.  The House of Bishops passed a resolution “disassociating themselves from the Diocese of Newark and its bishop for bringing this conflict into the church.” Our mail was heavy and negative by a 25 to 1 margin.  Our leaders received death threats from “Bible-quoting true believers” no less, who seemed to assume that the church ought not to welcome those whom Christ would welcome.  At that time we appeared to have few friends in the Episcopal Church.  Only one bishop stood publicly with us in support, Douglas Theuner, the Episcopal Bishop of New Hampshire.  In the swirl of that controversy, however, a diocese in California, encompassing the area around San Jose, elected our Richard Shimpfky to be their bishop.  That election was to us a sign that if we stood firm in our convictions, this church of ours would ultimately walk through this controversy with integrity. Our call, we believed, was to win over our critics by outliving them with the witness of our love.  Many of us joined with Richard and his new diocese in San Bautista, California, to consecrate him as America’s newest bishop. This diocese and this bishop would miss him greatly, but he was our gift to the larger church and we were enormously proud of him.
Now Richard and I were colleagues in the House of Bishops and, from the east coast, I watched this remarkable man continue to grow.  He quickly became a leader in the House of Bishops and was soon elected president of Province Eight in our church, which includes all of the dioceses in Hawaii, the entire West Coast and in the states of Nevada, Utah, Idaho and Arizona.  When the time came in 1997 for the Episcopal Church to elect a new presiding bishop or primate, the nominating committee surveyed the House of Bishops and nominated four people.  Richard Shimpfky was one of the four.  The National Church had now fully recognized the gifts of this man and had judged him capable of leading the entire Episcopal Church.
During his years as a bishop, our friendship continued to grow.  He was pastor to my family in a time of need in the life of one of our children.  He invited me to come to California to lead his clergy conference.  He invited my wife Christine to be the speaker at his Diocesan Convention and he returned to the Diocese of Newark to be the keynoter at mine.
When I retired in 2000, I decided it was time to make formal plans for the end of my life so that all things would be in order.  I asked Richard Shimpfky then if he would be willing to be the preacher at my funeral and when he agreed, I wrote that into my will and final instructions.  More than anyone I knew Richard could have interpreted my life, my ministry and my episcopacy to the world.  It was, however, not to be.  Last December Richard’s health took a turn for the worse and it was soon obvious that he was not going to live.  About six weeks before he died, he asked if I would preach at his funeral.  Though that was not the way I envisioned it to be with my younger colleague, I agreed to do so.  He picked the text I was to use.  It was from Ephesians and spoke of how God could do great things “more than we could think or imagine” by working in us.  It was a perfect text for Richard, who never felt that he was himself significant, but he could not deny that great accomplishments had marked his life.
Richard Shimpfky was a great human being,
a great husband and father,
a great priest and bishop,
and
he was to me a great friend.
I grieve his loss.  I rejoice in his life.
Rest in Peace, my brother.
~John Shelby Spong
Read the essay online here.





Question & Answer
Kathy N. from Gainesville, Florida, writes:
Question:
You have spoken frequently about talking to our clergy about their role in equipping us lay people for our ministries. I am a lesbian, feminist Episcopalian in a diocese whose bishop has an unspoken “Don’t ask, don’t tell” policy on gays. Given this atmosphere of fear and schism in our church, how can I help my bishop come to Jesus or should I just try harder to be a Unitarian or move to New Jersey?
Answer:
Dear Kathy, 

Your authentic witness will have enormous power and it should be lived out where you are. You cannot move to a place that is not natural for you and where people already agree with your witness and expect to be effective. We must fight our battles in the context in which they arise. 

In my experience people have a hard time hating and rejecting someone they know. So part of your witness is to make yourself known to the leaders of the church including your bishop. Make them see you as an authentic Christian, who happens to be both a lesbian and a feminist. 

I grew up quite homophobic. What changed me were people like you, who confronted me with the quality of their lives and thus forced me to redefine the stereotypes which provided the cover and the framework in which my prejudices could hide. 

Homophobia is a dying phenomenon. It will ultimately go the way of racism and sexism. A new consciousness is being born. It will not be the prejudices of such homophobic people as Pat Robertson, Albert Mahler, Fred Phelps and even Benedict XVI, but of authentic people like yourself who will change the world and you will do it by transforming others by your willingness to live your life in love, integrity and honesty even while people who claim to speak in Christ’s name continue to marginalize, ignore or reject you. 

Please give your bishop a chance to, as you say, “come to Jesus” by confronting him openly, honestly, lovingly and publicly. That is the way I was enabled to grow and I think there is enormous power in such a witness. 

I wish you well and admire your courage. 

~John Shelby Spong 







Announcements
Subcribers, please remember that your subscription is automatically renewed. You can unsubscribe at any time. You just need to login and cancel your account.  Also, please note that the name on the bill will now be listed as "The Center" rather than "water front media" or "wfm" as The Center for Progressive Christianity is now the publisher and manager of this newsletter.  We hope you enjoy the new website and newsletter layout! 
Login to be able to comment directly on the website. Join in the discussion!
Look for us on Facebook.
Thank you for taking this journey with us!
Any questions or concerns, please contact us at support at johnshelbyspong.com











forward to a friend  




Copyright © 2011 The Center for Progressive Christianity, All rights reserved. 
You are receiving this email because you have a membership at our website. 
Our mailing address is: 
The Center for Progressive Christianity
4916 Pt Fosdick Dr, NW
#148
Gig Harbor, WA 98335

Add us to your address book




If you are a paying subscriber, you may login and cancel your account otherwise, you may unsubscribe from this list










 
-------------- next part --------------
An HTML attachment was scrubbed...
URL: <http://wedgeblade.net/pipermail/oe_wedgeblade.net/attachments/20110331/fddd1a67/attachment-0001.html>