Some Gifts Have Hard Edges

James Kitler, Treasurer

At the end of 1991, I was laid off from my job as an investment analyst at Aetna Life & Casualty Insurance Company in Hartford, CT. Except, when one works for a large organization, one is never treated to anything so straightforward as a layoff. The catch phrase of the time was that Aetna was striving to be Quick, Flexible, and Right. So, instead of being terminated, one was QFR’d! I do give Aetna credit, however; we did receive severance pay and time with career counselors at an outplacement center.

Outplacement was a lot of fun, but, by mid-April of 1992, the impending end of severance pay loomed large, very large. I’d made hundreds of calls, talked to piles of people, traveled all over the area, and had precious little to show for it. Then, it happened; I received a job offer – from a company in New York City. Without going into the painful details, the problem was I felt deeply that such a long distance move would tear our family apart. Our family dynamics seemed way too fragile. Marilyn found it hard to imagine making any kind of move. Our sons were happy in their respective schools. Plus Marilyn’s father had died a couple years earlier and her mother was living by herself nearby in Simsbury.

So, the night before I had to give my decision to the people in New York, I stayed up. I think I know now how Jacob felt the night he wrestled with an angel. I agonized over what to do. In order to try and understand my own thinking, I wrote a long letter listing all the things I thought I knew and all the things I was feeling. Finally around 5 AM, I called our good friend in Schenectady, Torre Bissell. It turns out Torre is an early riser and it’s a good thing, he answered on the first ring. I poured out to him everything that was happening and read him my letter. He asked a few questions and finally said that he believed I should turn down the job. So I did - with nothing else on the horizon. I think Marilyn’s mom thought I was more than a little bonkers, but she kept her peace.

About a week later, a woman at church pointed out an ad I hadn’t seen in the local newspaper, mostly because I had not expected to find anything locally. I applied, interviewed, and got the job, all within the course of about 2½ weeks, which, as you know, was incredibly quick turnaround. I started work just before my severance pay ran out.

This personal history came to mind as I was reflecting on the Time, Talent, and Treasure we are called upon to share out of an attitude of stewardship. I realized I have tended to think of gifts in conventional ways. There are the spiritual gifts listed in First Corinthians and then there are the natural gifts required to keep a place like this running smoothly: skills to teach and preach, make music, organize, and administer our earthly affairs. Sometimes, though, there are other gifts, gifts given to and through specific individuals to minister in a particular situation and speak to a particular person. That’s what Torre was to me that night. If anyone else had given me the advice he gave me, I would have said to myself under my breath: all very well for you to say, sitting there in your nice warm home with your secure job and well-functioning life. What do you know about facing the future with small children, an aging mother-in-law, and no paycheck? I probably would have dismissed that advice out of hand. But I knew Torre and his wife, Jean, had faced more than hard times. They had been missionaries in Africa; they had sacrificed their key years of economic production to spread the Gospel; they had five children, two of whom were adopted. He may have been the one person from whom I could receive that hard advice.

We are blessed to have the Bissells as friends, but they are not the kind of friends one commonly meets in a social setting or a professional organization. They are friends who accept the calling Christ has put on each of our lives. Deeply intertwined with that friendship is the fact we all met at church and shared the ministries there. That little church in Schenectady would not have existed or been able to function without the contributions, including financial, we collectively made. Just as Marilyn and I have come to know that Jesus is the unseen – and occasionally seen – glue in our marriage, to the extent a Christian congregation puts its allegiance to Jesus first, that is the extent to which it will be effective and prosper. I believe that has been and continues to be true here at Church of Our Father, but we need to acknowledge and build on it continually.