Parting Is Such Sweet Sorrow

The first time I met Jim Phegley, I was, to be honest, playing hooky from my church that my wife and I had been attending for over a decade. That particular Sunday morning, Maria had some things to tend to and I just didn't feel like making the trek all the way down to the South Shore.

I can't tell you how many times Maria and I had passed that small white building, which is home to the Glen Cove Christian Church. If I had to guess, I'd say it was in the hundreds. But this time, instead of passing it, I decided to turn into the parking lot and go inside. I sat at the back of the church near where the coat rack is.

The experience was vastly different from what I was used to at the my other church. The worship was broken up into two sets with announcements in between. Then came the Eucharist, followed by the pastor's sermon. While I can't recall the exact theme of his message, there was one moment that grabbed my attention quite profoundly. A little boy had recently lost his dog and wanted to know if he'd be reunited with him up in Heaven. I suppose Jim could've given any number of answers that would've been scripturally sound, but instead he just told the boy that yes he would be reunited with his dog in Heaven.

I was deeply touched by Jim's words and I took them to heart. For I, too, had a dog and two cats and have often wondered if I would see them in Heaven. I did not know it at the time, but a seed had been planted. A couple of years later, when Maria and I decided it was time to look for another church, we tried a number of places, but ultimately decided to make the Glen Cove Christian Church our home.

It has often been said that a church takes on the character of its leaders, and that has certainly been the case with this church. From its pastor, to its elders, to its deacons, GCCC is truly a place where the spirit of the Lord dwells. Jim's sermons often speak to the relevant issues that affect our everyday lives; there's never a trace of that "holier than thou" mindset that so often afflicts other congregations. He uses his life's experiences the way an artist uses a canvas to draw his pearls of wisdom from. And make no mistake about it, that canvas is full. A Godly man, a loving husband, a proud father and grandfather, a good friend, and a humble servant of Christ. In baseball parlance, Jim would be known as a five-tool player.

But all was not smooth sailing. There were times when tragedy struck where Jim's mettle was put to the test. Several years ago, one of the leaders of this church, a man I was proud to call friend - Ralph Pedone - died suddenly of a heart attack. All of us were devastated, but Jim's strength and courage somehow got us through it. I will never forget the sermon he gave the following Sunday. While there was barely a dry eye in the room, Jim was a rock. That was truly God working through him. And just last November, another member of the church, and a dear friend of Maria and I - Ramona Bobe - lost her battle with cancer. Again, Jim rose to the occasion and had just the right words to comfort a grieving congregation. Such men are rare indeed.

Over the last decade, Maria and I have been privileged to not only get to know this man and his wife, Ann, but to occasionally have dinner with them at the Downtown Cafe. The words, salt of the earth, do not come remotely close to describing them. A better definition would be that they live out the meaning of the scripture in their day to day lives. They walk the walk as well as they talk the talk. If there is any pretense in either of them, I have yet to spot it. They are servants of the Lord in the highest sense.

Sometimes after the service, Ann and I would talk about the issues of the day and share our concerns about what was happening in the country. I don't suppose I'd be betraying too much if I were to say that the four of us shared more than just a profound belief in God. I can count on both hands the number of people I've known in the Church who share my political beliefs and Jim and Ann are two of them.

So I was deeply saddened to learn about a year ago that Jim was stepping down as pastor and that the two of them would be retiring to Connecticut to be with their kids and grand kids. On the one hand, I really couldn't blame them. If any two people had earned the right to retire it was Jim and Ann: Jim, a minister for over thirty years; Ann a school teacher for nearly that many. Most people never get to enjoy their golden years, so I was truly happy for the both of them.

On the other hand, I will miss them both terribly. The way they comported themselves, the way they welcomed Maria and I into their lives, the service they gave to their community and the sacrifice they made for all of us. The bar has truly been set high. My only regret is that I wish we'd found this church earlier. Imagine how many more fond memories we could've had.

I have struggled to find just the right words that I believe best encapsulate what Jim and Ann have meant not only to Maria and I but to everyone who had the good fortune to know them. And I think I finally found them from a poem by Joseph A. Torrey.

Through this toilsome world, alas!
Once and only once I pass.
If a kindness I may show,
If a good deed I may do,
To my suffering fellow men
Let me do it while I can
Nor delay it, for t’is plain
I shall not pass this way again.

Thank you, Jim, for exhibiting the finest qualities of Christ; for being a power of example that I could look up to; for the times you came to visit me in the hospital when I needed encouragement and prayer; for the times you consoled me when I lost a pet to illness and when my father passed away two years ago.

Thank you, Ann, for being a kindred spirit whose ear I could always bend in those trying moments that often looked so bleak; for the hugs I needed; for your sense of humor and wit. Now that you are a civilian, I hope you'll hit the "like" button occasionally on some of my Facebook posts. Jim, too.

I wish the both of you God's speed on your new journey, and I leave you with the words a former pastor of mine often used to close out his services with.

May the Lord bless you and keep you, make His face shine upon you and be gracious unto you. May He lift up His countenance upon you and give you peace.

P.S., don't be strangers. We have a guest bedroom and you are always welcomed.