These letters from Pastor Harry and church leaders explore the challenges we face as people of faith in a complicated and fearful world, not unlike the world that Paul faced, and not unlike the world that Dr. King faced down.
We leave you with Harry’s last letter to the Saint’s as he retires and enters a new journey. You can find past letters below.
May 31, 2025
Dear Saints in Santa Fe, and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name and spirit of Jesus Christ!
This is my final letter to you.
After 274 times writing “Dear Saints in Santa Fe, and other far-off places.” After these past five years commenting on the world through stories–mine, the church, and scripture. After all the days we have shared together in ministry.
Some letters wrote themselves. Honestly. I had an idea but my fingers on a keyboard took it from there. I just had to keep up. Other times I struggled with what to say, like Jacob wrestling with the angel one night and he came out of it with a limp.
I have been a pastor for over four decades serving three churches—Lake Forest, Illinois, Lyndhurst, Ohio, and Santa Fe. I have enjoyed each one and couldn’t write a better script for what I imagined I might do with my life. I have been with amazing people who served in faithful ways locally and internationally, traveled to many far-off places for mission trips and conferences, and worked in beautiful churches and communities. I have no regrets.
I was ordained on Sunday, October 14, 1984, at the First Presbyterian Church in Lake Forest in a historic sanctuary with Tiffany windows. My dad preached the sermon he called “The Start of the Great Adventure.” I had no idea what that might mean then but I know now. Dad was right. It has been a great adventure indeed.
So I plan to continue the adventure. Jenny says we are replanting. I like that. Planting seeds but in other gardens now, with different flowers to grow. I will continue working on gun violence prevention locally and nationally. I am still on the board of Ghost Ranch for another 1 ½ years which is one of my “thin places.” I look forward to traveling and spending more time with family and dear friends across the country and world without always trying to fit them in between Sundays.
I was hoping to reach 275 letters but the calendar left me one short. It’s your turn. Write the next one. Write to anyone you wish. Maybe just to yourself. Through your writing try to figure out what scripture is telling you about the world, yourself, and God. How is it nudging you to do something, or think in a different way, to act in ways that will better the world, and your life? That’s what I have tried to do.
Please know and remember you have marvelous and exciting days before you, and the best are still to come. Your generosity will be felt by an increasing number of people. You will be looked to for wisdom, guidance, and comfort. You are up to the task. You have what it takes. The world needs you as you live out the ways of Jesus and grow the beloved community.
And don’t forget to enjoy your days together! I certainly have with you.
So, I close with thanks. To Jenny, my spouse and partner who has grounded my life with her wisdom and passion. To our children and family who continually bless us. To the church staff and CDC teachers who I got to see most every day. You are blessed to have them.
And to you. I lived these days well. Thank you. And thank you, again. It’s been an honor of a lifetime to serve as pastor and I will feel forever privileged and blessed.
Grace and peace to you, my dear saints, one last time.
Harry
Recent Letters
May 24, 2025
Dear Saints in Santa Fe, and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name and spirit of Jesus Christ!
The drinking fountain at the end of the hall.
That’s what I dreamed about when I was six. I had come down with some mysterious illness with a high fever and I couldn’t drink or keep anything down and it went on for weeks and weeks. I had to stay home from school. Doctors didn’t know what to do. All I wanted to do was to drink cold water coming from the drinking fountain at church next door. It was tall and gray with the name “Oasis” on it. I needed a footstool to reach it.
The drinking fountain was at the far end of the hall, past my dad’s office and Sunday school classrooms where I first learned about Jesus and sang hokey pokey songs like “You put your right foot in, you take your right foot out . . . then you shake it all about . . . that’s what it’s all about!” What it was all about was I was thirsty and dreamed of drinking again from the fountain. It was the only one anywhere that had cool water.
May 17, 2025
Dear Saints in Santa Fe, and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name and spirit of Jesus Christ!
A stained-glass window with my name at the bottom.
My grandpa held several jobs in Wheeling, West Virginia, and one was supervisor of the family coal mine. He later suffered from Black Lung Disease because he had insisted on going down into the mine with the miners. The youngest of three sons in a German family (he was born Heinrich Wilhelm which filtered down to me as Harry William) he later had the opportunity of a lifetime to take a great job in Cleveland in the shipping industry working with the Steinbrenner family (i.e., George of Yankee owner fame) but his older brothers convinced him to stay in Wheeling to take care of their ailing mother. As the younger brother, he did.
May 10, 2025
Dear Saints in Santa Fe, and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name and spirit of Jesus Christ!
Doubt upon the mountain.
I would have thought after spending 28 chapters with Jesus, following him, sharing meals, witnessing his healings, hearing his sermons, and breathing in the good news every day the eleven disciples would be on board. Not so. Matthew 28:16-20, the final words of the gospel, says they worshiped him, “but some doubted.” Why doubt then of all times?
Perhaps they doubted Jesus came back after he was crucified. Did they actually see him, as many maintained, or was it the spirit of the Risen Christ? Or were they just alone on the mountain facing an uncertain future?
May 3, 2025
Dear Saints in Santa Fe, and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name and spirit of Jesus Christ!
Jesus sits for his portrait.
I did once. Back in my first church when a young woman who painted in oils asked me to sit for my portrait. I was flattered. Until I realized she only wanted me for my black clergy robe because it had folds in the sleeves. She needed to practice her sleeve folds! Fair enough. So I agreed and after many sittings the day arrived for its unveiling. The sleeves looked great. Me? I looked faintly like a young Robert Redford in his Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid days, minus the mustache, which means it looked nothing like me at all.
April 26, 2025
Dear Saints in Santa Fe, and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name and spirit of Jesus Christ!
The Seven Mile Walk.
I remember reading a story years ago about a young high school football player who ran 82 yards for a touchdown. It was a Friday night game under the lights in front of his hometown fans, his parents, and his girlfriend. Eighty-two yards! He was on top of the world that night and he expected his life to be filled with more accomplishments like this. It never was.
How sad to me. Nothing would ever be as good as that Friday night on a football field, that life would never get to the eighty-third yard.
April 19, 2025
Dear Saints in Santa Fe, and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name and spirit of Jesus Christ!
I never thought much about Holy Saturday before.
It has always been a day of preparation, to catch my breath after Holy Week which seems to be more busy and anxiety-provoking than I think. So, I spend my Saturday consumed with the Easter sermon I give the next day. Can I find the right angle? Do I have the right message? Is it good enough? Will anyone remember it?
April 12, 2025
Dear Saints in Santa Fe, and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name and spirit of Jesus Christ!
I thought I heard alleluias.
I really did, every Palm Sunday, year after year, this parade of joy and celebration and waving palms, this recognition finally that Jesus is the man, the one that inexplicably defeats Empire for this one shining day on a donkey.
It’s like Easter without the eggs, without the cross, without the crucifixion. Less messy and more fun. Who doesn’t like a parade?
Yes, it’s time to sing our alleluias!
Arpil 5, 2025
Dear Saints in Santa Fe, and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name and spirit of Jesus Christ!
Healing you, me, and the world.
I know this sounds a bit far-fetched, but the Bible doesn’t think so. Page after page is filled with stories of people who are ultimately persuaded that they and the world can be healed, with God’s help. Like our story last Sunday of Naaman, the great commander of the Aramaean army who was healed of a skin ailment. Let’s start there.
What did Naaman do to be healed? Not much really. He got angry. He felt entitled. He thought he could buy his way to healing. Then he listened to his wife who listened to a slave girl who talked about the power of God through the Prophet Elisha. And just as Elijah said, Naaman was healed on the seventh dip. How, again? And what about those first six dips? Here are some ideas, dip by dip . . .
March 29, 2025
Dear Saints in Santa Fe, and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name and spirit of Jesus Christ!
When I get discouraged about church, Christianity, this present day . . .
Yes, you can answer this. Don’t wait for me. But while you are thinking and since I posed the question let me tell you how I would answer. I read John Philip Newell books. The latest one, The Great Search, has been the subject of our current Adult Education series that wraps up this Sunday.