Phil

Where does one begin? A tribute to Phil Rieman--

I met Phil a bit over a year ago. He was the pastor of a church in Indianapolis. I did not have the pleasure of meeting his wife, Louise, who was away on church-related activity during the several days I stayed at the church. I was there training for a program teaching kids about nonviolent strategies. For travel reasons, I stayed a day beyond the rest of the crew's departure. And Phil, who was taking me to the airport the next day, offered me dinner. And we had time to connect.

Phil and his wife died last week in a crash on icy holiday roads. I had just been writing of him when a friend phoned me with the news. I was writing another friend at the time, describing the pleasure of my connections to the Brethren folks in Indiana, and their peace-related activism. After hearing the news, I wrote of my time with Phil:

"He made me dinner, and opened up to me about what it was to be a pastor, to be Brethren, to not pay taxes to the IRS, to have his van stolen by the feds, etc. I felt very able to be myself around him, and remember talking about the Earth-based spirituality I was particularly into at the time. He was totally respectful and interested. He was also very gracious with those forgetting to return the church key after staying over (and mailing it back from NM.)

He invited me to come back anytime, and described how the church would be setting up soon for their two-week turn in putting up and feeding the area homeless through the winter. I thought I might see him again in such circumstances, and feel sad that I won't be.

At the same time, folks like that--gems I have been graced to meet--are so ego-balanced and service-oriented that the inspiration of their lives is not diminished by their passing. I don't know if that makes perfect sense, but it's kind of what people mean when they talk about someone living on in others..."

I hope the church is able to remain strong in serving the urban community there, including sheltering the homeless, letting the local kids play football on the field behind the church, holding groups studying the post-corporate world, and putting up the odd frisbee-tossing peacenik passing through from New Mexico.

Peace to you, Phil and Louise--