I first met Seth Dickinson when he was 10 years old. His family moved to the area from New Mexico and began to attend our church. Seth was the son of Paul and Susanne Dickinson and came from a rather large and loving family.
Seth was special in more ways than one. Born a normal and healthy child, just before he turned 3, he began to experience seizures that eventually caused permanent brain damage. Although Seth had a permanent disability, he was highly functional, extremely friendly, and incredibly outgoing.
As the family settled in to life in Georgia and to life in our church, Seth became an acolyte. There were a number of acolyte roles that he filled and he was always dependable. In fact, he would, most of the time, be the first person vested for the service. If he thought we were about to start the service late, he would sound off, “It’s time to pray!” That, he knew, was the last thing the clergy and altar party did prior to the start of the service.
In 2007, our bishop suffered a stroke from which he would not recover. Almost every time that we had prayer during our services, Seth would pray for Bishop John Holloway. When, after several years, Bishop Holloway died, Seth continued to pray, out loud, for Bishop Holloway. Once, after the service, I got him alone and asked if he knew that Bishop Holloway was with Jesus.
He said, “I know that.” Then he added, “Is there any reason we can’t still pray for him?” I thought a moment and replied, “No reason at all.” And so he continued.
I was selected to become the successor to Bishop Holloway. Somewhere along the way, I came to know that the bishop could have a special cross that preceded him in the processional on Sundays. The Bishop’s Cross, especially if it is a crucifix, faces not the front, as would be expected. It faces the bishop, who is the last in line in the processional. It is a reminder that everything is about Christ and nothing is about the bishop. It is a visible reminder to walk in humility.
The bearer of this cross is known as “The Bishop’s Crucifer.” I asked Seth to fill that role. He did so seriously, willingly, and consistently. In fact, he is the only Bishop’s Crucifer I have ever had. Sometimes, someone would say, “He’s carrying the cross backwards.” No, Seth understood. He had it right every time.
As time went on, Seth grew up. By the time he celebrated his 16th birthday he was as large, if not larger, than most of the men in the church. With rare exception, he was always smiling, always friendly to all, and always greeted people at church by name, if he knew their name. If he didn’t know their name he might give them a name anyway! As for me, every Sunday, he stuck out his hand, flashed that winning smile, and exclaimed, “Good morning, Bishop Epps!”
About a year ago, Seth began to have serious seizures and was hospitalized. While he was away, no one was the Bishop’s Crucifer. That was his job and it was waiting for him when he returned.
Last Monday, Seth had a serious, unexpected, and prolonged seizure. The first responders came to the house and Seth was transported by ambulance to Piedmont Newnan Hospital’s emergency room. A team of doctors, nurses, EMTs, paramedics, and others worked hard. I received the call and rushed to the hospital. I was there when the doctors stopped the treatment. Seth was gone.
Our church has joined the family in a collective cry of grief this week. There are no words, no platitudes, no explanations that help. Seth was a member of our family and, without warning, he is gone. It’s unprofessional for ministers to cry. I don’t care. I am among those who loved Seth and love his family. Along with the family, whose loss is unbearable, I, too, have cried. Others, many others, have cried this week as well. Our youth held a vigil on Monday evening in the sanctuary. We trust God but the pain is there still.
On Saturday, Oct. 22, there will be a memorial service for Seth Emmanuel Dickinson. Family members will arrive from across the country, friends from the home school organization will join with church members and friends from the community, and we will celebrate the life of a special and precious young man. Songs will be sung, prayers will be offered, scriptures will be read, and stories will be shared.
But, for one of the very few times in several years, there will not be a bishop’s cross in the processional. That was Seth’s job. He was The Bishop’s Cruficer.
[David Epps is the pastor of the Cathedral of Christ the King, Sharpsburg, GA (www.ctkcec.org). He is the bishop of the Mid-South Diocese which consists of Georgia and Tennessee (www.midsouthdiocese.org) and the Associate Endorser for the Department of the Armed Forces, U. S. Military Chaplains, ICCEC. He may contacted at frepps@ctkcec.org.]
