This is a story that could be told in a variety of different orders. There are many different possible beginnings, so I’ll just pick one and take it from there.

In the late 1950’s there was an energy in the mainline denominations in the United States. The pews were full with families following the Second World War. The first baby boomers were reaching their teen years. Sunday schools and youth groups were growing. Our denomination, the United Church of Christ, had a burst of energy that followed the union of the Congregational-Christian and Evangelical-Reformed denominations. Every conference across the United States was in the process of starting new congregations. One of those new church starts was Mayflower United Church of Christ in Billings, Montana, organized in 1960. The congregation was organized and called its first pastor before they had their own church home. They met in the theatre of Losekamp Hall. The college’s theatre and music hall had stood on the campus for 40 years and figured in the stories of many students. It was the place where my parents met, but their story and the story of Mayflower Church hadn’t really intersected very much at the time.

My in-laws, Keith and Charlotte Ricketts moved to Billings, Montana in 1960 with their three daughters. A job at Yellowstone Electric Company promised a bright future for the family after a few years of hard work and searching for opportunities in Libby, Montana. The new church and the family new to town seemed to click. After an invitation, the couple became charter members of the new congregation. They maintained their membership and activity in the congregation through the decades that followed, participating in two major building programs, volunteering in many different ways, and becoming active in the conference camping program, which is how their eldest daughter and I met.

We were married at Mayflower United Church of Christ in 1973, and ordained in that church in 1978. The church is an important part of our story and a place of many fond memories for us.

Back in 1960, the organizing pastor was reaching out in many ways to grow the congregation. Some of the professors at the college became involved and provided a challenge to the pastor. He needed to have sermons with a particular degree of academic integrity because among his congregation were those with significant theological education, including ordained ministers who were serving as faculty members of the college. It was a time when the United Church of Christ was proud of its traditions of educated clergy. Clergy members held graduate degrees and were familiar with academic traditions. The pastor preached from manuscripts and as far as I know his preaching was appreciated. His congregation was gaining success and, I assume, members were asking for copies of some of his sermons. He obliged by having the manuscripts of his sermons mimeographed for distribution.

I know the feeling. Over the span of my career, I had members and friends of the congregation ask me for copies of sermons I delivered. I tried to oblige. I would copy manuscripts and at times, produce transcriptions from sound recordings of my sermons. I was always a bit disappointed in my sermons when they were written. Written language and oral language are significantly different, and a sermon that is well-crafted for oral delivery has repetition, emphasis, and plenty of run-on sentences that need to be edited for easy reading. I suspect that this was less of a problem for that pastor of Mayflower Church because he preached by reading from manuscripts. He created well-crafted written documents that were subsequently read to the congregation.

My in-laws, faithful church members and avid readers picked up copies of those sermons. My mother-in-law, Charlotte was a keeper of things on paper and she hung on to those sermons.

For the sake of the story, I’ll skip 60 years to the present. Mayflower United Church of Christ is well-established and has had a series of pastors over the decades. They have been through hard times and good times and continue to offer significant ministry and outreach in the community. Charter members Charlotte and Keith Ricketts have reached the end of their lives. Charlotte was the first to pass, and it has been a decade since Keith died. Their three daughters are grown and married and live in three different states. None of their daughters lives in Billings any more. The house where they lived in their teenage years has been sold. There probably aren’t many folks left at Mayflower United Church of Christ who remember the days when the family was active in the church and their daughter was ordained in her home church. We have served congregations of the United Church of Christ in Hettinger, North Dakota, Boise, Idaho, Rapid City, South Dakota and Bellingham Washington, where we now live.

The other day, one of Susan’s sisters was sorting through some of the items in her home and came across a box of papers that had come from their parent’s house. In the box were copies of those sermons from 1960 and 1961. She called us to see if we wanted to have those sermons.

I finally have gotten rid of the files of my own sermons from a couple of decades later. I realize that in my case there is not going to be a book of collected sermons gathering dust in church basements. It will likely take me a decade or more to organize my journal entries on this web site. I’m not up to the task of preserving and editing the sermons of a pastor who served the church of my in-laws before I became a member of the family. Frankly, I’m not even interested in reading those old sermons.

I’m just amazed that they have been kept all of these years.

Not everything that has been mimeographed is destined to become a historical treasure. Not every paper is worth keeping for decades. There is, however, a lesson for me in this story. I’ve kept a few too many papers in my life. I have a couple of file cabinets that need to be sorted. I have a few gigabytes of data on the cloud that are disorganized. It is possible that my children or grandchildren might get a laugh out of sorting my things after I’ve died, but it is more likely that my stuff will be a burden for them.

I’m grateful that I have had the privilege of being a part of this family. I may not want the sermons that my mother-in-law kept for decades, but I do feel pleased to have the story. My grandchildren will never read my old sermons, let alone those of the pastor of my wife’s childhood church.

It is possible, however, that they will remember the story and tell it to others.