Giving thanks amidst the sorrow...

Yesterday word of an old friend and colleague's death came my way: Jim Gall, my former music and choir director while in Tucson, passed from this life to life everlasting. He was a big man - full of love and pain - who shared some of my most important years in ministry and I give thanks to God for the nearly 7 years we worked together while I feel a deep sadness, too.

Jim was born in Strasburg, North Dakota - hometown of Lawrence Welk - and grew up in a strict German Protestant family. His father had been organ master at a small church and Jim discovered his love of church music - and organ playing - by sitting alongside the old man week after week after week. In time he realized that Strasburg was going to be too small for his personality and talent so he completed all but the dissertation of his doctorate in music. What's more, he served some of the largest and finest progressive churches in the United Church of Christ including Wayzata Community Church in Minnesota, Claremont United Church of Christ in California and Rincon Congregational United Church of Christ in Arizona. He was an excellent and eclectic musician who died way too soon.

You see, Jim had an early onset of Alzheimer's Disease - an illness that was not diagnosed in time to be treated well - which caused him great professional trouble and tremendous personal loss. I first experienced the confusion of this while negotiating with him about his salary package. After bringing an intense search process for a musical director to a close, Jim and I met in a coffee shop at 3 pm to work out all the details - which we did - in anticipation of a Personnel Committee review and approval four hours later.

But when he arrived at what I thought was going to be a quick and easy gathering, he acted like the agreed upon figures were completely unfair. It was crazy making in the worst way because I knew that we had worked this all out - but now he was not only angry and confused - he was acting as if I were trying to screw him. We eventually toughed our way through to an agreement - and signed it on the spot - but I was baffled: what the hell was going on? And what did this mean for working with such a manipulative knuckle-head?

Similar things happened over the next few years. Jim was the organizing music director of Revilee - the Tucson Gay Men's Chorus whom he brought to worship a number of times - and they became an incredible musical and social force in Tucson. But given his erratic behavior and extreme "forgetfulness," the chorus eventually fired him - which broke his heart. He was also fired from his secular teaching jobs, too, because he had become so irresponsible. I know that there were times when I, too, was ready to fire him because he kept screwing up. We would go over the Easter Vigil music at 5 pm and at 7 pm... it was all gone. He would miss appointments on a regular basis. And whatever the choir practiced on Thursday there was no guarantee that he would recall on Sunday. So I came to do worship always thinking 4 or 5 steps ahead of his music just in case things tanked - as they sometimes did. It was freaking exhausting and very troubling.

So for the first few years I tried being an administrative hard ass: evaluations were tough and there were frequent meetings to help get Jim back on track. And mostly this only made matters worse.

After experiencing my own emotional, spiritual and personal melt down, however, I came back from summer vacation and realized I needed to have a heart to heart with Jim. Fighting, pushing and using a secular model of accountability had totally failed so maybe living into a heart of openness might make a difference. It certainly couldn't make matters worse. I asked my administrative assistant (and blessed friend) Debby to be a part of this conversation because I found I always needed a witness to make sure we didn't go crazy.

And just said: "Jim, it is clear that something is terribly wrong. You know it, I know it and the congregation knows it. But we haven't wanted to push you out because we all thought it could be worked out administratively. But that is clearly wrong. So, here's the deal. As part of your continued employment I need for you to see a doctor this week. This is obviously a medical issue so we need to help you help yourself."

And he wept... wept like a child. Earlier he had told Debby that he was certain I was going to fire him. He didn't know what to do so we just held one another for a bit and wept. Then he composed himself and told me what I already knew: he didn't have medical insurance which is why he hadn't gone to a doctor yet. I had already secured the support of the lay leadership to cover these initial medical tests and made that clear to Jim, too. Which, of course, brought more tears...

When the tests came back - and Debby participated in almost all of this testing - the diagnoses was clear: Jim needed a variety of meds to slow the disease and other blood work to help with other medical concerns. So we agreed as a church to cover Jim's medical expenses - some how - and also bring his wider family into the mix, too. They loved him dearly but were completely in the dark about the Alzheimer's (even though their father had suffered from this.) By bringing them into the conversation, however, more resources - financial and spiritual - were created and more love was shared.

This went on for three years: for a long time the meds arrested Jim's decline - but they can't work miracles - and eventually he could no longer continue in ministry. It tore my heart apart to have to tell him that the time had come to bring his ministry to a close, but it had to happen. So at the end of one summer, we worshipped together - with guests throughout Tucson - to honor God and give thanks for the blessings of Jim Gall's ministry. It was a time of sweet agony...

For a few years after his forced retirement, we kept tabs on Jim in Tucson with home visits and lunches. But that, too, came to an end for he could no longer drive or care for himself and had to go live with one of his sister's back in the Midwest. It was there that he recently died.

Working and sharing ministry with Jim Gall pushed all my buttons:

+ Early in my new position, he forced me into celebrating our GLBTQ commitments early on by asking to preach during my second Gay Pride Sunday. It was clearly a test - and I was anxious and angry - but knew that this was a time to stand and deliver so... preach he did. He told his story of coming out and what that meant for him as a man of faith. He also brought the Reville Gay Men's Chorus into our lives and many of those men became dear to my heart. It was one of those "put up or shut up" moments and I am grateful for his verve and passion.

+ He wrote a gospel mass which we recorded and shared with the wider community during the early days of his ministry, too. It was a blast and really helped our church move into a new way of doing worship and having fun at the same time.

+ He was drop-dead hilarious at the church talent shows and staff meetings: sometimes he would show up in a hula skirt - or worse. At potlucks he would find a way to dance with some of the conservative straight ladies who just came to love this big, goofy gay man with all their hearts.

Being in ministry with Jim - and Debby - took me deeper. His suffering caused me to find ways to live into my best self and call the church into being its best self, too. It was terrifying and complicated. It regularly ripped us apart in sorrow and confusion. And it was a blessing I will always give thanks for amidst all the sorrow.

I have no idea how Jim's life will be marked in his final home - but he changed my life and brought me to a deeper faith - and I give thanks to God that for Jim all sickness and sorrow are now over. May you rest in peace forever dear man.