Saint Matthew's

After my New Year’s plans went up in smoke on Sunday, I decided then to just spend the night doing nothing. I haven’t slept too well lately and I believed a night to just crash would be more beneficial than spending it partying. Well, the rest didn’t happen and neither did the partying, but 2009 came in on a good note.

Not that others didn’t try to change my mind. A former political friend of mine contacted me after reading here about my dead New Year’s plans and invited me to his office party — overlooking Times Square. He said it would be a great party – it would be inside and warm, have plenty of free liquor, free gourmet food, no dealing with amateurs on the street, and single women. Two years ago, Harvey tried to set me up several times with women because he felt that every good pastor deserves to be married to a good woman. Like he knew anything about Lutheran pastors – he calls himself a JINO (a Jew In Name Only). Oh, did I mention he calls me “Rabbi?”

After church last night, I was seriously considering going into the city for this shindig – I could have invited people to join me, Harvey said over and over again. But when I arrived home, I was just a little worn out and therefore decided to skip the trek into NYC and what would have been a terrific Harvey party. I called poor Harvey and spoke to his partner, Paul, who was not happy that I wasn’t coming in. He said Harvey had a great woman all picked out for me – a 27-year old advertising account executive who lives in Manhattan and hadn’t been in a relationship since August 2007 when she caught her then-33-year old boyfriend taking money from her bank account after “borrowing” her ATM card. She would make a perfect pastor’s wife, Paul explained, since she is a Christian “just like you.”

I laughed and thanked him and Harvey for “making an effort” on my behalf. Paul promised to give “Cristin” my “information.” And sure enough, he did — at around 7:45pm, I received a text message from a number I didn’t know; it was “Cristin” wanting to know why I wasn’t coming to the party. A telephone conversation later, I promised to meet her, Harvey, and Paul for lunch tomorrow afternoon.

After hanging up and shaking my head, I hoped the remainder of my New Year’s Eve would be somewhat quiet.

It was until 9-ish. My cell phone went off. I tapped my iPhone and answered it – it was the wife of a friend from New York. They were coming over to New Jersey to visit her family for New Year’s Eve. She, her husband, Carl, and their son, C.J., were at a local hospital following a minor car accident. This didn’t surprise me since Carl thinks he is a NASCAR driver. With all the black ice on the roads, Carl hit a spot and crashed into a tree. I got dressed in my clerical and headed out to the hospital to visit with Carl and Cheryl and C.J.

At the hospital, things appeared somewhat busy. They were experiencing the normal New Year’s Eve patient load, which I found out later from a nurse that this made for a stressful night.

Carl hit his head in the accident and slashed his forehead pretty good. He was being stitched up when I arrived. C.J. thought it was cool that his dad was getting stitches. He watched as the doctor worked and kept asking his dad how it felt. Cheryl was more upset that Carl was driving too fast. Thankfully, the car wasn’t too damaged, but was not drivable. After a short while, Carl was all stitched up and ready to get to his in-laws’ house for their party (Cheryl’s sister came to pick them up).

As we were heading on out, one of the nurses saw me and asked to speak with me. I wished Carl and his family a happy New Year and went to speak with the nurse. Carl thanked me for coming, saying that I didn’t have to ruin my New Year’s Eve to spend it with him. I smiled and told him to get to his party before midnight. The nurse, who wasn’t all that happy to be working on New Year’s Eve, asked if I could sit with a little boy for a short while while his grandma was getting an x-ray. Of course, I said “Yes.” Off I went to sit with Robbie.

He was a nervous that his grandma would have to spend the night in the hospital. His parents dropped him off at grandma’s house so they could go out to a party. But grandma fell and hurt herself; apparently she drove to the hospital in a lot of pain. Thankfully, grandma got her x-ray and was told she wouldn’t have to stay in the hospital. Robbie was happy. He slapped me five and thanked me for staying with him. I patted him on the head and left them with every intention to go home.

It wasn’t going to happen. A doctor, who also calls me “Rabbi,” saw me and asked me to sit with a patient who came in with chest pains. They were doing tests to determine if it was a heart attack or not. Doc asked me to sit with him and try to calm him down a bit. So, I said, “Yes.”

The gentleman in his 50s was, how can I say this nicely, obnoxious. He didn’t want a “priest” and wanted to go home. “It was just too much shoveling,” he kept saying. I looked at Doc and gave him the “You’ve got to be kidding me” look. He patted me on my shoulder and wished me luck.

The heart patient and I ended up talking for about an hour. I did most of the talking at the beginning which allowed him to get comfortable with me. He then opened up and talked about his divorce, his kids who hate him, his neighbor who plays music too loud, and the like. When the doctors came back in to tell him that he didn’t have a heart attack, I thought he would explode. But I guess our talk calmed him down. He was nice to Doc and to the nurses. As he was getting unhooked from the monitors, he put out his hand and said, “Happy New Year, Father. Thank you.”

By this time, it was after midnight, something I didn’t notice even with the midnight “cheer” that went down at the strike of 12. When I came out of the room, a nurse at the desk saw me and said, “Padre, Happy Happy!,” and handed me a plastic glass of non-alcoholic cider. I thanked her, wished her the same back, and guzzled that rather terrible tasting sparkling beverage down. I wished her good morning and headed for the exit, but ….

As I got towards the door, I noticed a woman sitting in the waiting area looking either very tired or very drunk. As I was putting on my coat, I motioned to the technician behind the check in desk inquiring about her. She quietly told me that she came in with a man a little before midnight who looked worse than she did. She asked me if I could just check on her and see how she is doing. So, I said, “Yes.”

The woman was holding her head in her hands as I sat down. “Hello, I’m Pastor Iovine,” I said. She strained to look up and said, “Hello.” I asked how she was doing. “Drank too much, too early.” I sat down across from her and asked about her alcohol intake.

“You name it, I drank it.”

I asked about the guy she came in with.

“Him, too. Drank all kinds of sh**,” to which she immediately said, “Sorry.”

After telling her that her language choice was OK for now, I went on this long diatribe about how we, in society, have become too accepting of using bad language. We should all try to challenge ourselves in this new year not to use so much vulgarity. As I talked, she lifted her head up to look at me as I babbled. She began to laugh.

When I saw her laugh, I asked her once again for her alcohol consumption list.

“Ah, Father, I drank some, not too much.” She then counted off her list of beer she drank – Bud Light. Her boyfriend’s list of beer and vodka drinks was much longer and probably would make most people vomit. I started to laugh as she went through the list, to which she stopped and looked at me and said, “What?”

“Why would  anyone want the only memory of New Year’s Eve to be that you drank too much and spent New Year’s Day morning in the hospital?”

The question kind of shocked her and made her defensive. “Maybe some people want to go out and have fun, ring in 2009,” she said with a little indignation.

I pushed back. “But you didn’t answer my question. Why do think that drinking so much is fun?”

For about ten minutes, we went back and forth as I tried to get to the heart of why this young woman and her boyfriend would consume so much alcohol, they wound up in a hospital emergency room. At first, she wasn’t too forth coming, getting slightly angry with me.

OK. She was angry with me and raised her voice.

I got up and walked over and sat next to her. Explaining my point – I told her I knew a lot of people who would be drinking excess quantities of alcohol this night, all of whom would be suffering with major hangovers come the sunlight. But none of them would be in the hospital.

“There has to be some underlying reason why you and your boyfriend would do this yourselves,” I said to her. She looked at me and started crying. Her boyfriend has been going through some hard times – got laid off in early December, his father was suffering from cancer, and his sister had something physically wrong with her. It all just piled up and “Teddy” wanted to forget it all. She said she tried to stop him from drinking so much, but he would have none of it. He just kept drinking shot after shot, downing beer after beer.

“He wanted to forget all the crap in his life.”

She cried for a few minutes. She rested her head on my shoulder and just let it all out.

“He cheated on me more than once. I know. But I still care for him,” she said through her sobs.

She explained that Teddy wasn’t her boyfriend any more; he was just a friend. She was going to a New Year’s Party in Northvale, but ditched the party to hang out with Teddy because she was afraid of what he would do to himself. She said she forced him into her car to come  to the hospital after she watched him pop a few pills and down it with a Tequilla shot.

I told her that God works in mysterious ways. He always seems to put people in our lives who are his angels. I then told her that she was Teddy’s angel this night.

She looked over at me and smiled. I then said a prayer with her for Teddy and for her.

“Thank you,” is all should could muster as I stood up to put my coat back on.

By now, it was knocking on 3:20 and I was tired. Really tired.

As I drove home, I thought about my New Year’s Eve. I met a number of people who needed to hear about the love of God through Jesus Christ and how God is there for them. But to me, I realized something more dramatic — these people were there for me. Each of them reminded me of what it means to be a pastor, but more importantly, they reminded me what it means to be a friend.

This was a great New Year’s Eve.

As the snow began to fall this morning, I was on the telephone speaking with a friend from out west. He asked me what I was looking forward to in 2009.

“That it won’t be 2008,” I responded.

As many of you here at Saint Matthew’s know, my 2008 was a little sad. Burying another childhood friend in February is not a good way to start any year. Watching a friend deal with her rape has been nearly too much to bear. Getting knocked out, hospitalized, and then going through months of tip-toeing around because of the resulting concussion – not something I would wish on my enemies (and yes, pastors do have enemies). There was just too much personal ugliness this year.

My hope for 2009 is that I won’t need as many Kleenex boxes as I went through this year.

Of course, many good things happened in 2008. Family members and friends struggled and battled through illness, yet came through the year healthier. Friendships were strengthened and built. I started losing weight.

However, we are always overtaken by sadness. As we all await clocks striking midnight tonight, I hope that 2009 will be far better than 2008.

I shouldn’t laugh, but it just so fits my 2008.

Someone I know invited me to his “New Year’s Blowout” party that he holds every year. I haven’t attended one of his parties since I returned from seminary, so after receiving his New Year’s Eve invite I made plans to attend.

Well, those plans went up in smoke.

On Sunday, black soot filled his house while he was out. When he arrived home, his house was just a mess. He can’t get it cleaned until after New Year’s Day, so he’s staying with his brother in Mount Vernon. Therefore, he canceled his party and will instead watch the ball fall with his family.

So, my plans are once again open.

Ugh.

For some reason, I got to thinking this morning about 2008.

How many of us begged for time to speed by so we can slam the door shut on 2007?

Oh, did I long for 2007 to come to a close. The reasons are numerous as the sentiment for a new day was aching my heart as I waited for the days to pass. A new year brings endless opportunities and hope. Maybe our pilgrimage during the next year will be sunnier and brighter and not so full of dark clouds and rain. That’s a wonderful hopeful sense that we all long to capture. In preparation, we celebrate on the final calendar day of the year with parties and friends, praying that when the ball finishes its long slide down that flagpole in Times Square and the new year begins, good stuff will happen in the coming days and months.

Some of us in a rush to seek the change that a new wall calendar brings will list out a series of “resolutions” that are supposed to help change our outlook on life. Whether it is losing weight or stopping smoking or drinking less, these “New Year’s Resolutions” are supposed to signal what we want to see “new” in our lives this coming year. Of course, these resolutions will go out the window the first chance you are faced with your old ways.

“I resolve to lose weight … but those McDonald’s French fries are just soooooo good!”

By trying to resolve to do something, we’re taking an inventory of our life and see that our lives need some serious change. I did some thinking this morning about me:

I resolve to be better person. Not just in the way a pastor is supposed to act, but in my personal life. Many times throughout 2007, I found myself feeling the urge to punch someone in the head when I’ve been stressed or aggravated. Yeah, I didn’t punch them out, but I wanted to so badly. But also in the way I’ve been towards others – I’ve rushed them through conversations when I know they need to talk; I’m not always there for family and friends because my sinful mind is urging me to do other things; and I don’t make enough time for those in need. That is why I resolve to be a better person.

I resolve to become more organized. I keep a calendar on my computer and my phone, but I haven’t used them enough. My desk at home and in the church office looks like a bombs hit them. I have this overwhelming feeling during the past couple of months that I am rushing around too much or that I am not prepared enough for meetings or visits or when I see a friend. I’ve been so unorganized these past 6 or so months, I feel like some alien being has taken over my body and making it a living heck. That is why I resolve to become better organized in 2008.

I resolve to be a better friend. Maybe it is because I am putting in too much time in the office or in the “pastoral aspect” of my call, but I find that is harder and harder to keep up with friends or be of assistance for them when they need a shoulder to cry on. A friend should be there in good times and bad and not just to have a drink with every now and then. In 2007, I felt that I wasn’t there enough. That is why I resolve to be a better friend.

And I resolve to more Christ-life in my demeanor. There have been too many times during the past year I’ve not been very pastoral. Whether it is driving and getting aggravated at other drivers on the road or even when I am in a store standing on a long line that feels like it is taking forever to get checked out, last year was not a good time for me. My frustration level was very evident. I can’t continue to be this way. I need to have more patience with others. I need to realize that as we live in this sinful world, we’re all in need of a little forgiveness. That is why I resolve to be more Christ-like in my life.

My prayer for all of you is that this 2008 will be a time of renewed love and patience, that the grace and mercy of our Lord will transcend each of your lives daily.