Sometime in June, I was invited into a “secret” Facebook group made up of people I knew from high school. The group was organized for planning a surprise retirement party for my high school band teacher. At first I was shocked to see that my band teacher wasn’t long retired already. I quickly reverse engineered the math, looking at some photos posted in the group and I realized that when I was in high school band between 1998 and 2001, my band teacher was about the age I am now…. He seemed older in my mind in high school… because surely 16 year olds wouldn’t think I am old now, right? Right!?!?

Anyway, my beloved band teacher was a lot like Mr. Holland from Mr. Holland’s Opus, the 1995 movie staring Richard Dreyfus. He even looked like Richard Dreyfus in the movie, with wire-rimmed glasses, a mustache and the same haircut. He loved making music, and in his 40 years of teaching band he inspired a  A LOT of students to keep pursuing music. Even my sister became a band teacher!

Some of my most formative memories were from band. I was in the symphonic band, a class that had double the usual class periods. This meant I spent a class period every day playing music (and one day twice!). My band teacher expected excellence, but also taught us how to make beautiful music together. He also took us all over the world. We travelled to Red Deer, AB, Whistler,BC, Anaheim and Disneyland, Germany and Italy. These trips are some of my most cherished memories from high school. 

His retirement party was going to be similar to that in the Mr. Holland movie. In other words, former students would come back so that my band teacher could conduct a band with all kinds of students playing much of the music he used with his high school bands. 

I saw some videos of the event and it looked pretty special. The music room had moved from where I remember it to the old automotive wing, but my band teacher looked the same as ever (except for the grey hair). 

But I also had a weird feeling watching the videos. It was a combination of sadness and longing, maybe some nostalgia. I realized that this time in my life, these amazing memories of making music with friends and classmates was never going to happen again. At least not the way it used to be. 

I already had a taste of that feeling following high school when I joined a community band. I loved that band, too; but it wasn’t quite the same. The people were different and we practiced only a couple hours one night a week. We played some of the same music, but we didn’t play in the same way.

I have been thinking a fair bit about these kinds of experiences this summer. Maybe it is because I am 40, or going back to seminary this fall (and the seminary buildings have moved, too!). Maybe it’s seeing my children growing up, especially as we have moved houses and they have changed schools. 

I think it is also part of the reality of serving in ministry. As a pastor I get to be a part of significant and memorable moments in people’s lives. Baptisms, confirmations, weddings, funerals. It is not uncommon (especially in summer vacation season) for people to come around with their own strong memories of these important life events. In these situations I am on the other side of those memories, the new and unfamiliar person who can only (kind-of, sort-of) offer a version of the Church that isn’t quite the same as it used to be. I have heard lots of stories of past weddings and funerals, stories of my pastoral predecessors, stories of youth events and young adults doing silly things or finding love, stories of former Sunday School teachers and organists and youth leaders. 

My usual response has been to point to what the Church is now, what it has become. And it is true, even as the people change, as the activities and programs adapt, the mission of proclaiming the Gospel remains. But that doesn’t make the longing and sadness easier. 

So, having been reminded of that feeling, I know I will be more sensitive and empathetic to the stories of what the Church used to be. I suspect that this is something that all of us will have to do from time to time. But also it’s important  to remember that the ways in which we are living as a community, the music we are making (so to speak and literally), the youth trips to CLAY, the baptisms, confirmations, weddings and funerals happening now, will be significant life-long memories for folks down the road.

Hopefully, these memories will not only remind us of God’s enduring presence and love in our lives, but also will keep us connected and returning to this community that doesn’t end after confirmation, high school or youth group or getting married or when a loved one dies. May this community be one of the few places in our world that continues to be a place where memories are made, yet where we can keep coming back to our whole lives.