* Reprinted from This Week magazine. Copyright 1961 by the United Newspaper Magazine Corporation.
OUR article on the ministers' housing crisis brought a lot of "Amens." But here's a minister's wife who says there's no place to live like a parsonage!
Dear Mr. Editor:
Take it from a girl who grew up in parsonages, who wrote on her fifth grade theme "When I grow up I am going to marry a minister" and who did just that, one of the things I love most about the ministry is the parsonage.
I have lived in parsonages in half a dozen States all across our nation. And I have visited dozens and dozens of many denominations. What is it that I like about parsonages?
A Haven From Storm
Most of all I love the man of God whose life I share in our parsonage. I like to think that he chose me because he thought I was fit to share this good life with him, to make our home an example of what God can do through one family living in His house. I'm proud to mend his clothes, listen to his problems and make this house a haven from the storms of life.
I love to open my kitchen window and hear the organist practicing a Bach chorale or the grand old hymns of the church. I love sunset time when the shadow of the steeple falls across our front door as a benediction on another good day.
A Giant Jig-saw Puzzle
I love the funny, good assortment of folks who come to our door for weddings, asking for or bringing food, wanting encouragement or just plain fellowship. I love the good and the bad all put together like a great jig-saw puzzle of humanity. They all belong in our house because we share our house with God and his servant.
I love moving into a parsonage. No minister's family is ever a stranger in a new town. The minute you move in someone says "That's our minister" or "Those are our preacher's kids." We never have to elbow our way in, we just belong. I have yet to move into a house that women of the church had not scrubbed and stocked with food for moving day. The good men of the church have always been on hand to help the movers. I deeply appreciate this. I often say to my children "See how lucky we are to be living in a parsonage."
And I love the house itself. Some folks live in one house all their lives. I love the adventure and the challenge of a new house with its odd assortment of windows and that extra room you hadn't planned would be there. The minute we're called to a new parish we all begin planning. I have yet to see a congregation unwilling to let us redecorate to suit our tastes. We have helped to build one new parsonage and every parsonage where we have lived has received some face-lifting during our stay.
Show me a parsonage which does not respond to a little imagination and love and ingenuity. We are good at papering and painting and love the smell of fresh paint. No congregation yet has failed to respond to an invitation to sample my Norwegian cookies, even if we do suggest they wear work clothes and bring along brushes!
Of all the parsonages I have visited, I have yet to see a really well-trained, capable pastor without a decent home. Our denomination is short over 5,000 ministers. Most other Protestant denominations have a similar shortage of trained ministers. And it is becoming almost impossible for a church with a poor parsonage to get a pastor. At present we have in our vicinity two churches—both with new parsonages— which have been without pastors for some time.
A Divine Call
In order to be ordained in most Protestant denominations a minister must have four years of college and three years of seminary. Many have much more education. My husband and I share six degrees.
Any number of higher paying jobs are open to a minister. He does not stay in the ministry because of the pay, the parsonage or the position. He stays because of a divine call; because he finds fulfillment for the greatest of life's goals. He truly believes: "Seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you."
Parsonages, God bless 'em.