Remembering Jim Sell

 

James W.H. Sell was one of the first people to recognize my call to ordained ministry.  He was the rector of Christ & St. Luke's, the church I attended in Norfolk. starting in 1994, a year after moving to Virginia.  At the time I was a "stealth parishioner," slipping in for the 10:15 service and ducking out after Communion to get to my job as a stage manager at Virginia Stage Company.  I participated in some Under the Hill young adult gatherings and a few Christian formation events when I could, but other than that, I didn't have much time for church activities.

I loved going to Christ & St. Lukes - when I discovered it, I fell in love because it looked so much like the chapel at my alma mater, Sewanee.  And the music program!  Architecture and music may not be the best reasons to go to church, but they topped my list.  Once I started attending, I realized the third blessing - the clergy, Jim and Win.  They both gave excellent sermons that spoke to me, and I could feel their warmth and kindness even in my position as stealth parishioner.  At the back door, Jim would greet me with, "How's the play?" and I would tell him that I enjoyed his sermon.  Other than one phone call in which I told him I was too busy to participate in many church activities, we didn't have much one on one interaction.

In the year 2000, I went on pilgrimage to the Holy Land and the Passion Play with my church.  That began my wondering about a possible call to be a priest.  One morning about 7 months after the trip, Jim came up to me as I was walking down the aisle and asked me if I would be part of a "Nudgee" group of women that he was putting together to explore the possibility of seminary.  Speechless that he had read my mind, I simply looked at him.  He told me to call him later that week, and I did.  Thus began my journey to becoming a priest.  It took awhile, and Jim and I got to know each other much better.  He was my priest, not just my mentor.  He was there for me in some really low times.  He read some of my short stories and said I had to get published.  He was always on my side.  He invited me to be part of the pastoral care team, the only thing that happened weekly on Mondays, my day off from the theatre.  I learned so much being part of that team.  

Jim was a presenter at my diaconal ordination.  I hadn't seen him since before Covid, at Bishop Susan's consecration.  We took a selfie that day, and I enjoyed one of his characteristic bear hugs, a chat, and plenty of laughter.  Little did I know that a month later I would get sick with Covid.  I haven't seen Jim since then.   

Yesterday I learned that Jim died in his sleep over night on Friday.  The tears keep welling up in my eyes as I think about all that he meant to me and to all of us who attended CSL during his years as rector there.  I am so grateful I was there then.  I am so grateful for his ministry, his humor and optimism, his big ole heart, his encouragement, and his sermons.  Most of all, I will always be grateful that he saw a call in this shy little theatre person who lurked at the edges of his congregation, and that he invited me to explore that call.  My life has never been the same.  

Rest in peace, Jim.  May your heart and soul now ring out in joy to the One you served so well, the living God, and the God of those who live. You made a difference.  Servant, well done.

View from the Plaza Prayer Station: Slowing Down

After several 80 degree days, storms passed through last night bringing cooler temperatures.  It's definitely fall now, leaves are changing colors and falling off the trees, and today I had to chase the sun with the prayer station because it was too chilly to sit in the shade.  For Homecoming I had purchased a CNU sweatshirt, and I was grateful for its warmth as the breeze whipped across the Plaza today and clouds blocked the sun at times.  I really do need to come up with my winter plan because one of these Thursdays will be rainy and/or much colder.  I'm hesitant to head inside, however, because I will instantly become much less visible. 


It was slow today at the prayer station, but I have made my peace with that.  Visitors seem to come in waves that correspond to the waves of papers and tests.  I actually had some time for quiet prayer for CNU and the community here. Fewer people brought their lunches into the Plaza today, and the tables and chairs had been shifted into sun spots.  One of the skateboard dudes, turned biker dude for today, stopped by to say he had too much writing to do so he couldn't stay and chat, but he said he would look forward to hanging out next week.  Today I brought candy, in honor of Halloween, and a couple of students who have chatted with me before said hello and picked up a treat.

I've struggled a bit with the public privacy of the prayer station and how much to share here in the public space of an Internet blog.  The station is in a public space, and anyone passing by can see me say prayers with people.  But the prayer requests themselves are private, and so I don't post them here, even in a way that can't be traced back to the person making the request.  I want the prayer station to be a safe space, and I don't want anyone to discover their private stories posted on the web.  Today one of my walk-by students who had popped over for a prayer previously stopped by to follow up.  I was glad for my sunglasses because my eyes filled with tears as this student shared some good news and then threw her arms around me in a big hug.  I hadn't expected to see her again or to know what had happened, but I had kept her request in my prayers and hoped for the best.  What a blessing to have her reappear and give me the update.  I'm so grateful that God put me in the right place at the right time to be present to her need.

Students also continue to ask me about the Episcopal Church and what makes it different from other churches.  Most of the students I talk to come from evangelical and/or non-denominational traditions.  They are curious, interested, and I hope that some of them will take me up on my invitation to come to Eucharist on Thursday afternoons.  So far no one has, but I have hope that as they grow more comfortable with me they may find the courage to try something new.  I remember in seminary theology class being asked to come up with an "elevator pitch" for the Episcopal Church that we could give in 2 minutes or less.  Seems like I need to perfect that for this setting. 

People continue to walk by the station and smile.  Some furrow their brows as they read the sign, and some move on quickly as if scared I might force a prayer on them.  Some have gotten used to me and greet me as they would anyone else they know on campus.  I'm starting to feel like I belong, and I try to stay open to whatever will come on a given day.