Tribute

During the first twenty years of my life, I had only one pastor. I heard his helpful messages each Sunday. I felt his great love for the Master as his voice often broke and tears filled his eyes, telling of Christ and the plan of salvation. I listened as he sang and played the great hymns of the Church and many of his own compositions.

I watched as he pastored his flock, visiting the sick, the aged, the troubled, faithfully, often leaving groceries and money from his own pocket with an elderly couple who were in need.

I shall always remember his Sunday morning prayer, which seemed to lift all those who heard, and reflected his concern for those to whom he ministered.

I saw his faithfulness to the program of the church and support of each official in it. I marveled in times of great strain and heavy burdens how he exemplified the spirit of Christ, showing perfect love to all men.

The place he filled as my pastor was of great importance to me, but it never could surpass the role he played as my father, for I was a child of the parsonage. The "family sings" around the old piano; the summer vacations to a quiet lake where fishing, hikes, and berry-picking were shared; the "family nights" once a week with games and laughter and corn popping; the family altar after supper each night with each of us praying for all the others—these are but a few of the outstanding memories.

He was my pastor, busy working for Christ and the church he loved so dearly, and yet he had time to discipline us when we needed it, to play with us often, to pray with us daily, and as we grew, to counsel with us when we sought it.

Daily I thank my God that I was blessed by having had such a pastor, and above all for still having my wonderful father. -- Joyce Schurman Murphy

(Published in "The Herald of Holiness", official organ of the Church of the Nazarene, June 14, 1961. I was 24 years old.)