Frank Haight: Accidental pastor to preach his final sermon on Sunday

To preach God’s word or to write sports.

That was the Rev. David T. Lyon’s dilemma following the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., leader of the American civil rights movement.

For years and years, David – as he prefers to be called – resisted God’s call to the ministry.

“I tried to ignore it. I did not want to be a preacher,” says the 20-year pastor of St. Luke’s United Church of Christ, calling his rebellion “a little bit like Jonah trying to hide from God.”

Dr. King’s death on April 4, 1968, had a profound impact on this modern-day Jonah.

“I am thinking, ‘Oh, my gosh. Maybe I ought to rethink my life in journalism.’”

And he did.

With studies in journalism and religion from Syracuse University, David abandoned his journalism pursuits. He  attended seminary at Andover Newton Theological School in Massachusetts. Although ordained in 1972, his unwillingness to pastor a local church still hounded him.

“I was resisting,” he readily admits. “I said, ‘Oh, I want to be a teacher. I want to be a professor. I want to be a chaplain at a university.’ ”

So for nearly 15 years, he served as a campus chaplain in Ontario, Canada, and in Hays, Kan.

His ministerial career – which began 40 years ago – ends Sunday afternoon at a Service of Farewell. At the formal ceremony, St. Luke’s  will release the retiring 65-year-old pastor from his role as teacher and pastor.

“That’s the formal recognition of the end of a ministry,” says David, who came to the historic Independence church at 727 N. Main St. on Aug. 1, 1991.

Participating in the 3 o’clock service – which the public is invited to attend – will be three close ministerial friends: John Dorhauer, A. Gayle Engel and Dale Parsons.

“They will be serious and they will also roast me a little,” David notes, “which is fine with me.”

David preaches his farewell sermon Sunday at the 10:45 a.m. worship service. What he shares with his congregation is anyone’s guess.

“I don’t know,” he says, sitting in his disheveled office amid mostly empty bookshelves. “I will pray about that and think about that. I don’t want to get too emotional.”

In the early years of his campus ministry at Fort Hays State University, David felt God’s tug to pastor a local church. But unable to see himself in that role, he ignored God’s nudge.

“I can’t be a local pastor,” he tells himself, offering these flimsy excuses: “I don’t know how to do a funeral ... I’ll drop the baby at the baptismal ... I don’t know what I am doing.”

During these troubling times, David’s close friend, Gayle Engel, told him about a “really nice church” in Wichita, Kan., that he should take a close look at. And he did.

“I went to Pilgrim Church in Wichita and just loved it,” he says. “It turned out that baptizing babies and doing funerals were my favorite things to do. I enjoyed it because it was really helpful for folks. You can step into their lives at a very critical time and be helpful. And that’s a wonderful, wonderful gift.”

As Christ’s representative, David is “profoundly honored” when he’s invited into people’s lives in intimate ways – at times of birth, illness and death. “It’s profoundly wonderful,” he says, adding: “It never ceases to amaze me how people want me to be there (at these times).”

David is also amazed that he has inadvertently touched people’s lives unknowingly – unaware of something he had said or had done.

“I am honored and touched by that.”

As the longest serving pastor of St. Luke’s since its founding in 1878, David credits his wife, Paula – who deeply loves this part of the country – for his record-breaking tenure.

Some 10 years ago, Terry heard about a Texas church that was searching for a pastor, so he went to Austin to check it out. The trip proved fruitful, and with almost everything in place for a move, he returned home elated and excitedly announced, “Paula, I want to go to Austin. It’s a beautiful city.”

And in firm but gentle voice, she replied: “Well, if you really want to.”

With a hearty laugh, David says: “It was the kiss of death,” recalling it was Paula who insisted on coming to Independence two decades ago.

By the tone of her unexcited voice, David knew immediately that if the move to Texas was made and things didn’t go well, he would always hear these spewing words ringing in his ears: “I knew we shouldn’t have come here. We should have stayed in Independence.”

David will tell you today the decision to remain at St. Luke’s was the right one. He stayed and served as pastor at the church he’s so proud of for another 10 years.

Another right decision, he says, was the timing of his retirement.

Up until a year ago, retirement was at least two or three years away, he told himself. But that was before a combination of health issues “knocked him for a loop.”

Says David: “Each of these (illnesses) are manageable in and of themselves, but together (they’re) a pain in the neck.”

A bright future awaits the Lyons in their maintenance-free home off Lee’s Summit Road, where they will enjoy Bentley, a West Highland white terrier, and do some traveling, among other things.

But that’s not all. David, who once aspired to play professional baseball, will enjoy almost around-the-clock Major League Baseball games on his 46-inch Sony.

Allowing him to see “pretty much every game of every team,” he says, is a Major League Baseball Extra Innings package – a yearly birthday present from the love of his life.

Excited about the upcoming baseball season? He can hardly wait.

Says this diehard Cleveland Indians fan: “On opening day I will start watching baseball about 11 o’clock in the morning and finish up about 1 o’clock in the morning.”

And what about his major league aspirations? It didn’t materialize, he says, because the talent wasn’t there.

“By the time I was 18 years old, it was very clear that (baseball) wasn’t going to be a good career choice.”

David, who also has a degree in archaeology, is an excellent cook and does all the cooking at home, he says, explaining Paula – a former Irish Catholic girl – grew up as a tomboy and hated cooking and doing household chores.

Because Paula has a business head and David doesn’t, the Lyons made a deal when they came to Independence.

“I would purchase the food, prepare the food and serve the food. She would clean the house and pay the bills. In the first week, she got pay-by-phone and a cleaning lady,” he laughingly says, then adds: “I think I have been had.”

But not really.

Even though Paula keeps her husband busy at home, David enjoys cooking French food, which he and Paul fell in love with when they toured France on their 25th wedding anniversary.

Says David: “So I enjoy preparing French foods (for her). It’s a lot of work, but it’s a labor of love. She’s worth it,” then adds with a chuckle: “A cheeseburger at Ernie’s is worth it, too. You can just feel your arteries clogging up. But it’s wonderful.”