Just Another Jim's

Alaska Journal

Ch. 4: The Whales of Sitka

Posted July 21, 2006 by James E. Nelson

And this raises a question in many peoples minds: Why in the world did we move to Alaska in the first place? In spite of its frequency, I have found this to be an odd question. Why did the Nelsons and Millers (my ancestors) settle in Iowa and the Nortons and Rosignals (Brenda’s ancestors) settle in Montana? And what about pastors? Why did Robert Bohl, past moderator of General Assembly, move from First Presbyterian Church in Fort Worth, Texas to the Village Church in Prairie Village, Kansas? We seriously considered various churches: a rural congregation not far north of Omaha, an Associate Pastor position in Iowa, a church on the shores of Lake Huron. Delta Junction was (1) one of many open congregations that we liked, but (2) the one that said yes in a timely manner.

Implied in that question, “Why did we move to Alaska?” is the converse statement, “I would certainly never move to Alaska!” There are many places we simply would not consider going. Florida, or anywhere in the deep South, New York City, New Jersey, Boston, the Iron Belt of Ohio. Why would we not consider those places? It all comes down to prejudices and lifestyle issues. Florida has bugs and no seasons. (At least that’s what I’ve been told; I’ve never been there.) The Iron Belt is economically depressed and getting worse, it’s a psychological battle to be a minister there. (At least that’s what I’ve been told; I’ve never been there.) Boston and the northeast is closed to outsiders; if you’re not a local, you’ll never fit in. (At least that’s what I’ve been told; I’ve never been there.) Alaska is cold, isolated, and lonely. The cost of living is high and the surviving is difficult. (At least that’s what I’ve been told; I’ve never been there.) Every person has their prejudices, some of which may be rooted in experience, many which are not. Growing up in Montana, having previously spent a summer in the Anchorage area, my prejudices did not exclude me from considering a church in Alaska.

There are, in fact, a whole host of values, experiences, and challenges that are part of such a decision. I had been serving an upper class congregation in Lincoln, Nebraska, a university town and state capitol. I discovered that a couple of country club weddings can be interesting. After that the pretentiousness of such affairs (my perception) becomes stifling. At first it’s fun to rub shoulders with governors, retired senators, university elite and corporate heads, but after a while the cutthroat politics (again, my perception) of such an environment becomes overwhelming. Some ministers respond well to the high intensity environment of a congregation like that. I found it deadening.

Coming from Lincoln, I was looking for a change. But I was also looking for a challenge. Delta was obviously a change. The challenges afforded themselves in completely different areas of life. Delta offered a challenge in basic living skills. Could I learn to do pastoral ministry that has more to do with the basic physical needs of a community than the internal politics of a congregation? Could I learn to become effective in pastoral work in a recreational, work-a-day world setting rather than within the confines of a fancy office insulated from the public by two layers of secretaries? Could I redefine how I carry out pastoral ministry to the extent that I could replace committee meetings with meat cutting as crucial pastoral skills? Delta offered both change and challenge.

Then there were the whales. A few years prior to our move we had vacationed on Cape Cod. We did all the Cape Cod touristy things—ate lobster, swam in the ocean, watched the fishing boats come and go—but it was the ocean and the whales that caught our imagination. Brenda, in particular, fell in love with the great whales plying the endless ocean, the birds, the mist. . . .

One night in Lincoln we were watching a documentary on the Pacific Ocean whales and their regular journeys to the plankton rich waters near Sitka, Alaska. She mentioned in passing that she thought she would love to live in Sitka because of the whales. It so happened that the Presbyterian Church in Sitka was looking for a pastor at the time, as well as the Delta Junction church. Of course at this time I had never heard of Delta Junction, but since two churches in Alaska were accepting resumés, I put two resumés in the mail. Sitka said “no” but Delta said “yes,” and even though Delta Junction was 264 miles from the ocean (and much, much farther from the whales) we said yes to this adventure.

I suppose it is the whales of life that truly forge our comings and goings. We ministers speak of the high ideals of ministry, its calling, we pontificate on the challenges and changes of ministry, but it’s the seeming insignificant events, such as a program about the Sitka whales on cable television, that ultimately shape our decisions. Brenda never made it to Sitka. I touched down in Sitka some ten years prior, but never saw the whales. And yet the divine call we heard to come to Alaska was as simple as a whale song.