Eulogy
William (Bill)
Lloyd Roberts, M.Div., Ph.D.
November
8, 1937 – October 29, 2012
Funeral
Service held at Wolf Run Presbyterian Church
Cameron,
West Virginia
We
first met on a Saturday morning some 36-37 years ago. He, Sue and David had just moved to Sistersville
to begin pastoral and manse life in the town’s Presbyterian Church. Our family had arrived about a year earlier
for the same reason, but in the town’s United Methodist congregation. Bill walked the four blocks from his office
over to our parsonage to introduce himself.
When he got there, he found my wife, Polly, sitting on the ground
replacing a broken basement window.
Approaching
Polly, he introduced himself, “Hello, I’m Bill Roberts, the new Presbyterian
pastor in town. Is your husband around?”
Getting
up from the ground, Polly said, “Hello, it’s nice to meet you. Yes Jim’s here. He’s inside cooking breakfast.”
Actually,
Bill was the older brother I never had, and sometimes he would act like an older
brother. Occasionally, we would have fallings-out,
but, as Bill taught me, getting upset with one another doesn’t mean we’re going
to throw one another away. Quite the
opposite, we’ll work it through and move on.
Sometimes, as brothers tend to do, we’d taunt one another. Usually Bill, quicker and more perceptive
than I, would catch the hidden meaning of something I had said, and he made
certain that I understood what I really meant (not always appreciated). The places where I could rib Bill usually had
to do with the little details he often missed.
Bill was so intensely focused on his responsibilities as a pastor, counselor,
mentor and in his other helping roles that he sometimes forgot the little
things of everyday life, like wiping dog doo-doo off your shoes before entering
the house. That happened once when he
was visiting us, and before Polly had the chance to address it with Bill, I
took some twisted delight in razzing him about it: “Polly’s going to get you!” Poor Bill; he did feel badly and like a pesky
younger brother I made it worse.
But
Bill’s exceptional genius, his skills and care were such that while he might
inwardly feel embarrassment or pain, he rarely reacted in harmful ways. He could be a “bear,” but most of the time he
was a “gentle bear,” and his aim was always to work toward healing and
wholeness, even if that meant putting his own feelings aside for the
moment. He may have begun to adopt such
stoicism as a child who encountered more dysfunction than is good for a child. Then later as a Ph.D. student at Princeton,
working closely with Dr. Seward Hiltner, the Grandfather of the Pastoral
Counseling Movement, and Dr. Michael Andronico, Bill developed a keen and uncanny
intuitive sophistication in seeing through the various complex components of a
situation and guiding those involved toward resolutions that fostered forward
movement and constructive outcomes.
What
an amazing myriad of life immersions Bill has known! Earning his Ph.D., Bill’s journey has carried
him to pastorates of both large and small congregations (or corporate and family
churches, as we sometimes call them—Bill’s preference was clearly for the
latter, the congregations where relational values took precedence over
procedure, propriety, pomposity and
other business-like protocols). Not only
so, but it was in the small faith family where Bill found the freedom to
fulfill the many facets of his calling. The
small church, particularly this congregation here at Wolf Run, afforded the
opportunity for Bill to put to good use all of the competencies he had
acquired, including his designing and coordinating a major national research
project sponsored by twelve Protestant denominations studying what makes for
effective Christian education; his gaining a number of certifications and
licenses in Social Work, Gerontology, Conflict Mediation and Counseling; his
years as a professor at a seminary in Pittsburgh (the one he sometimes referred
to as the other PTS); his work as a consultant to denominations and
congregations in areas needing skilled mediation, especially in church/pastor
conflicts; but all of that pales when contrasted with the painstaking zeal he
gave to individuals struggling with overwhelming difficulties and looking for a
better way. Bill was single-minded in
his devotion to those looking for a credible, meaningful and better life.
One
way Bill, and his wife Sue, made that kind of difference was through what
became called the “adopted daughter process,” an idea that had its origin in
Bill’s doctoral dissertation. Having committed early in their marriage to
having one natural child, they also decided to always leave room in their
family for at least one “adopted child.”
The first opportunity came when Bill and Sue met a fourteen-year-old at
a church camp whose name is Sally, the daughter of affluent, professional
parents. When Sally, Bill and Sue met,
somehow something clicked, and that led to Sally’s frequent visits with and
inclusion in the Roberts clan. Those
visits became a springboard for Sally to try out fledgling ideas, plans and
feelings. She treated Bill and Sue’s
young son as a brother, and she was the one who taught toddler David how to
drink from a pop bottle. The Roberts’
influence on Sally made a difference.
She matured beautifully and in time earned her own Ph.D. at a
prestigious university, and then she married and became the mother of three
children. On her wedding day, Bill
approached Sally’s mom and said, “This must be a very proud day for you.” With a tear in her eye, Sally’s mother
responded to Bill, “No, this must be a proud day for you.”
Over
the course of their married life, Bill and Sue have provided that kind of safe and
guiding environment to twenty-six adopted daughters. These women have moved on having become
accomplished individuals in their own right.
There is occasional contact with them, or in some instances, none at
all. But having been helped to go and do
and be whom they are meant to be, these adoptees were not made to feel
obligated to Bill and Sue, but were encouraged to give to others as they had
received.
Valley
Chapel in Fairmont, the congregation where I was pastor prior to retirement, with
some nudging became convinced that having someone of Bill’s caliber on staff could
provide some much-needed services, and so in 1990 Bill set up a satellite
counseling office in our church and the two of us worked side by side for the
next fourteen years. Those years saw
Bill working with domestic violence situations, addiction cases, adolescents
undergoing adjustment issues, pastors and/or their spouses referred by
denominational authorities, potential divorce situations referred by the Family
Court Judge, at-risk youth, PTSD victims, and individuals struggling with
vocational issues. Some clients were
provided help on a pro bono basis, and the others were willing and able to pay
the $30 fee for sessions that lasted anywhere from an hour to an hour-and-half. Talk about getting the most bang for your
buck! We deliberately did not advertise
the existence of the counseling center; it gained its excellent reputation
because of its many satisfied customers.
An added benefit of Bill’s presence on our staff was that he became the
consultant to our Christian education programs, including the week-day
pre-school, licensed day care and tutoring programs as well as the Sunday school
classes. Bill’s roles here included
meetings with the Child Development Center Staff, assistance in the development
of Sunday school lessons, and actual sessions in which Bill taught class
sessions, demonstrating a process of educating children that works. It is impossible to know just how far-reaching
Bill’s contribution to the life of our congregation was, but it definitely made
an important impact.
Sometimes,
Bill needed backstopping when it came to the little details—like the time a
counselee brought three or four bongs to a counseling session to signify a
decision to quit smoking marijuana.
Bill’s office was located just off the left side of the front of the sanctuary,
and rather than hiding the bongs in his office until they could be marshaled
inconspicuously off the premises, he lined them up on the front pew. Fortunately they were discovered before
Sunday, but not before choir members saw them during their rehearsal on
Wednesday. It did seem curious that some
of them knew what they were.
One
of the members of Valley Chapel, upon learning of Bill’s dying, sent an e-mail
expressing his appreciation:
“Sorry to hear of Bill’s passing although I was aware
of how bad his health had become. I had
some great conversations with him and recall once asking him to talk to a young
man who had told me he thought he was gay.
I told this fellow I haven’t a clue about this, but suggested he see
Bill. So a few days later I asked Bill
and told him I would absorb the cost for this man, and he saw him once. The man came to see me a day later and
announced he was not gay but really rather normal as he had been told. I didn’t say anything to Bill, but a few days
later he told me my friend was not gay but confused, and he did not charge for
the visit.
“In addition to the good sermons he delivered, I will
always remember his getting out of his little VW and starting up the sidewalk
only to return and get something else and perhaps do this twice more, and still
had the baseball cap on sideways and the look of a man who had much on his
mind. Still he’d stop to say hello and
visit prior to going to his office in the church.
“One day he had enough cat hair on his wool coat to
make a new cat, which he observed that I noticed as we talked, and he said I
seem to have forgotten to brush that off.
My kind of man. When I think of
him I will smile, and that is the way I want to be remembered.”
Another
grateful member at Valley Chapel, in recognition of the help she had received
from Bill, commissioned and had installed a stain-glass window in Bill’s
office. Of all the stained-glass windows
in the church, that one is the only one that represents the resurrection. What a perfect place for a resurrection
window, for it was in that small space that many persons found the real meaning
of resurrection, new hope and new life.
Some of you are aware
of Bill’s love of boating, especially sailing.
This pastime began for him as a child visiting with his grandparents who
lived near the shore. Largely ignored
during his most productive years, sailing reappeared as the love it once was,
and several years before retiring, Bill was back on the water in his own
sailboat. He was in utter ecstasy on the
water! Sometimes, however, wind and
waves surge suddenly, even on a lake. That
happened to Bill one time, and he quickly headed back to the pier, but before
he could dock the boat, it swamped and rolled over with him under it. A conscientious and careful sailor, he did
have his life jacket on and quickly emerged on the starboard side of the
boat. Rescue operations were successful
and Bill’s picture was plastered on the front page of the local newspaper.
Jesus
is said to have walked on water. Bill
couldn’t do that. Oh, well, maybe in a
way he could and did do that for as long as possible facing the tempest of
overwhelming illness. But more
importantly, he used his unique gifts of strength, wisdom, skill and care to
lead so many others in staying afloat “when the storms of life were
raging.” We are all the shipmates of a
good Captain who has shown us the way to sail on.
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