IN MEMORIUM - PASTOR RICH GANTENBEIN - FIVE YEARS LATER

Remembering Rich on the 5th Anniversary of his Death

Has it really been 5 years? How can so much time have passed since we gathered in grief for his Memorial Service?

Rich and I became friends when we both worked on the staff of a church in Los Angeles. Once he moved to Sonoma, our friendship deepened. I was at his installation service at St. Andrew, and he was at mine at New Hope in Castle Rock, CO. I had the honor of officiating at Julie & Russ’ wedding. It was a joy to come to Sonoma to celebrate his 20th Anniversary at St. Andrew …and his 25th. Being part of his Memorial Service and preaching the next day was a bittersweet occasion; I wouldn’t have traded it for the world, though I hated the reason.

Rich and I had an annual tradition of meeting every year to plan sermons together. The second Sunday after Easter would typically kick off a week-long collaboration. The locations varied, but the goal was the same: Plan sermon themes for the coming year that captured our imaginations and met the needs of the day. We would work long hours, eat well, laugh a lot, and return ready for another year. Once home, we would check in weekly to update our thinking. We talked a lot about Life, too; Our congregations, our families, or whatever was feeding our souls. This annual/weekly rhythm was a cherished part of my life, and I was packing to meet again when the call came that he had passed.  It didn’t just leave a hole in my calendar; it left an ache in my heart.

Rich had lots of favorite sayings. “The Main Thing is to Keep the Main Thing the Main Thing,” was a phrase we both liked. For Rich it was more than a phrase; It was a compass point that provided clarity when things got complicated and a rallying cry when times got tough.

The “Main Thing” for Rich was Authenticity. It was his superpower. When people were with Rich, they knew they were dealing with a genuine person, not a persona. He said what he said, and did what he did, because he was who he was. Rich wasn’t afraid to speak his mind, own his truth, ask hard questions, or be vulnerable. People knew they could be real with Rich because he was real with them.

I loved the way Rich approached his role as pastor. He took it seriously, but not himself.  When we were together, Rich would constantly be on the phone, listening to someone’s heartache, talking about an issue, or planning the next project. For all that, he didn’t spend time guarding his own ego.  Rich could keep “the main thing the main thing” because he knew He wasn’t the Main Thing.

Over the years we got to know each other’s congregations, well. Rich and I would jokingly tell people we were co-pastors with different congregations. We were only half-joking. I remember the week he intended to explore the possibility of taking a call somewhere else. That was the weekend the church burned to the ground. There was never a question where Rich belonged after that: It was in Sonoma, at St. Andrew. He flourished there not only as the Pastor of a church, but the unofficial “Chaplain” of the community. He loved them both.

While I first experienced St. Andrew through Rich, I later came to love the congregation for myself. When I would visit, I never felt like a visitor; It always felt like home. The year before he died, I got to spend a week with Rich, Dawn, and Stacey, as they continued and deepened their work in Romania. What a gift!  Another was when my eldest daughter got married; Rich officiated and the wedding was at St. Andrew. The congregation bent over backwards to make us feel like family. We did. I know I am but one in a long line of people who have been blessed by the hospitality and community that St. Andrew embodies.

Beyond our life as Pastors, we got to know each other’s families, too. I have fond memories of Rich and Lorna; the early days in Los Angeles, and the house and life they built in Sonoma. They both had demanding professional lives, but their hearts revolved around Julie. Their pride and love for her were apparent to anyone who knew them. When Russ came on the scene, he was first welcomed because Julie loved him. It wasn’t long though, before he was loved for who he was, and I heard many stories about the adventures of Rich and Russ.  The volume of stories (and pictures!) shifted dramatically when Oliver and Cecily were born. I don’t know of any role Rich savored more than that as a grandfather.

It takes a long time to grow an old friend, and the past five years have made it clear I will never have another friend like Rich. He made me a better pastor, New Hope a better church, and me a better person. I miss him even now. I’ll be grateful to him forever.

I’m also grateful to St. Andrew for commemorating this anniversary and inviting me to participate. It has been the occasion of fresh tears (damn him!), but fresh joys as well. Blessings to you as you celebrate the legacy of your past and continue to keep the main thing the main thing.

Reflections by Bob Conover

About 8 or 9 years ago I was on a ride with Rich and had a flat on my front tire. It was no big deal. We got it fixed quickly and rode on. This is a route that I ride about once a month and every single time I go by that spot I think of Rich. But, when asked to reflect on my memory of Rich, it's not so much about cycling with him or even his shiny fast cars, but it's how he knew himself and how he interacted with others.

You cannot work with any organization without "stuff" happening. The church is about people and it's inevitable that "upheaval" will break out from time to time. Some may choose to ignore it and hope that it will go away. And sometimes it does. But often that just causes things to fester and deepen and makes everything worse. Rich knew better and he did better. I have no idea how many times I saw him step forward and address whatever it was that needed addressing without concern for what political fallout might land on him for doing so. It simply needed to be done and he did it. He really was remarkably vulnerable in that way. Indeed, I think "vulnerable" is one of the most apt terms to describe Rich. Admittedly, sometimes you had to dig a little deep to see it, but it was absolutely there.

Like all of us, sometimes Rich would step in "it" himself. Sometimes he was the "stuff." I was always impressed by the way he would accept responsibility for his own mistakes and how quick he was in trying to remedy the situation. He seemed to embody confession and forgiveness.

When Rich died, I met many of his friends whom I had not known before. It seemed like "everyone" claimed Rich as their best friend. That's a testament as to how Rich related with others. He made them feel like they were the best. One time, a man without money and without a place to live showed up at St. Andrew. Rich drove him to where he was wanting to go. I still remember when I heard the story at how surprised I was to hear how far Rich had driven him. It was way beyond the "second mile." It was way beyond the county. I found out about all of this one day when I was at the church and the man showed up. I asked Rich who he was and he told me the story. It turned out that with some regularity, and over the course of several years, the man would arrive back at the church. Not to get a ride, but to reconnect with the one who had been his best friend.

As I write all of the above, it may sound like I am describing a saint. Well, maybe, but like most saints, Rich had a side that sometimes could drive you a little (or a lot) crazy. Now, I look back on those crazy-making moments and I am aware that a smile begins to form on my face. Those moments have now softened with time and have become part of what made being with him so wildly wonderful.

Rich never did anything half-way. He seemed to always dive in headfirst and with all of his clothes on. I think he can rightly be remembered as an evangelist for living the abundant life.

Reflections Five Years Later

Kathy and I were walking our dog on a beautiful Saturday afternoon when Kathy’s cell phone rang. She answered. It was Amy Cox at St. Andrew. Almost immediately I heard Kathy say “Oh no!” She turned to me. Rich Gantenbein had died of a heart attack earlier that afternoon. It was his 68th birthday. People would be gathering at the church.

People were milling about when I arrived at St. Andrew. I was standing outside of the office when I saw Eric Van Cleave get out of a car in the parking lot almost 100 yards away. He and a couple of others had been to a Giants game. They drove directly to the church upon hearing the news. Eric’s gaze locked on mine, and he walked straight to me. When we hugged, my emotions overflowed. Eric held me by the shoulders, looked me in the eye, and said with a steely resolve “We are going to be okay.” Then we got to work, joined by a couple of others including Chris McNairy and Amy Cox.

Four days later, I was driving to Topaz Lake when Kathy called to tell me Rich’s wife Lorna had called. I called her back. I wondered if she knew about the pact Eric and I had made a few years earlier when Rich had asked both of us to speak at his Memorial Service if something happened to him. She knew about it. I told her I would do it.

But first I had some unfinished business at Topaz Lake. I could not understand why Rich had died. He had received a clean bill of health from his cardiologist only two days earlier. A 40-mile bike ride with Bob Conover the day before. I thought there was more work for Rich to do in my life, the lives of others, and in the community.  He and I were still working on projects together. I didn’t agree with what had happened. I was hurt. I was angry at God. I felt that Rich had been taken from us too soon. So my plan was to take my boat out into the middle of Topaz Lake, where no one else could hear me, and express my feelings directly to God.  I thought that God was big enough, and compassionate enough, to hear what I had to say. So one afternoon I set out to do exactly that. 

But as I stood and began to raise my fist toward the sky to begin my protest, something else happened. I was suddenly overwhelmed by God’s presence. I felt God saying that He did not have to arrange for me to form a strong bond with this man. God told me that He was there during that walk up the Mad River Canyon with my fishing buddy Steve which led me to Rich’s church. He was there as my relationship with Rich grew beyond that of a pastor and congregant, then elder, and ultimately into a close friend. Jesus was there when I led Rich, an avid fisherman in his own right, to the Smith River where he fulfilled his long-held dream to catch his first steelhead. Jesus was there the following day when we fought a steelhead together while leaning on each other to keep from falling into the river as we waded across the mouth of Hardscrabble Creek. Jesus was there the next day as we fished in the snow without getting a bite. Jesus was also there at the end of that fishing trip as I drove us through the redwoods on a winding dirt road back to Crescent City when Rich took an orange, peeled it, and split it into wedges which he then shared with me in silence as if a form of communion.

So instead of voicing my anger to God that afternoon at Topaz Lake, I wept and thanked Him for steering me from the Mad River Canyon years ago up the steps of St. Andrew and into a relationship with Rich Gantenbein that changed my life. 

Now, five years later, I recognize that my conversation with God at Topaz Lake was one of those “thin places” that Rich spoke of in the last sermon he gave on an Easter Sunday just six days before he died. Pastor Nicole has also addressed that topic in several of her sermons.

While the hurt has not totally gone away, I am not angry. I remain grateful to God for bringing Rich into my life. I feel God’s presence daily. When I am fishing, I often feel Jesus’s presence and talk to Him (out loud).  And there are times, particularly when I am fishing a place where Rich and I had been together or one where I had intended to take him, when I sense that Rich is also there, with Jesus, with me.

Norman Maclean ends his book A River Runs Through It by writing “I am haunted by waters.” For me, I am blessed by them.

Keep the Main Thing the Main Thing

How can you reflect on Rich Gantenbein without thinking of that statement? He must’ve said it hundreds of times, but what’s more important is he lived it. That is what made the statement so powerful, his actions were truly more powerful than words. It was so like Rich to sum up complex ideals to something so simple.

Every now and then people come into your lives and have a profound impact. Rich was like that for me and I suspect for many of us.  Many times his sermon style felt tailor-written for me and again, I think many of us thought that. He was a good communicator. So often it seemed like he would write his sermons for his own struggles which were common to many of us. The sharing of his own life experiences was what made them so powerful. He was a man with faults which he would admit, but he was working on them and that gave us all hope. If he could do it so could we.

I miss his wise counsel but am comforted as I believe he is with Jesus in His loving arms now. I suspect that on that meeting Jesus said: “Well done my good and faithful servant”.

Rest in Peace my friend.

Ed Vaughn

Remembering Rich

Hard to believe 5 years. At times it feels like yesterday and at others, 20 years. I remember the day very specifically, your Birthday. To come into this life and leave on the same day, now your sermons on "Living your Dash", seem so poignant. That painful drive to the church the afternoon of April 27, 2019, with unbearable heartbreak and disbelief, and having my Faith in a loving God be put to its biggest test, how…just how? How can my heart be so broken and at the same time trust all of Rich’s words and teachings that have shaped my Faith? He once said to me “If we are true Christians, why do we fear death?”

Rich came into my life through the 12 steps, at a pivotal point in my recovery path. My desire, need, and necessity wrestle with the acceptance of a Power greater than I…God.. How Rich on Sunday mornings would weave the spiritual language of the 12 steps into his sermons and his personal navigation through his life and recovery, changed me! He was a very solid jumping-off place for me. I grew in my recovery, my relationship with God, suffering, and honesty. He was a brother to me, a mentor to my Faith, and at times would hold my uncomfortable growing edge with understanding and support. When I came on staff under his leadership, the first words of advice, “working for a church, protect your Faith”. I do now understand that wisdom.

Rich was the first phone call I would make at times, especially when I needed guidance and direction. He was a steady voice of reason, especially when I didn’t like it. That person you know you need to reach out to, even when it will push your edge of powerlessness, growth, understanding, and Faith. He was it for me.

In 2017 the tragic death of Brandon Barmore in Nicaragua was a devastating blow to our family and the entire Sonoma community. Rich was my first phone call on my way to the airport to pick our daughter up from Nicaragua. I kept asking him Why? Why Rich? Brandon was only 17? The other end of the phone was very quiet, and then he shared  “Stacey you will have many questions, and you will have answers someday, just not now”…. I have held that close to me in times of uncertainty, doubt, and grief. As I sat on the rim of the St Andrew fountain that afternoon 5 years ago, I was clear that I truly had no understanding of why but someday I will know…I trust his words….

Three weeks before Rich’s death we were on a trip to Israel together. It remains one of my most cherished blessings. To have had that time with Rich, watching him with his daughter and grandson I will hold dear, it not only imprinted my heart, that trip was evidence that you should always say Yes to life, I never in my wildest dreams ever thought I’d be looking out over the Sea of Galilee at sunrise, floating in the Dead Sea, walking the cobblestones of Old Jerusalem drinking pomegranate juice…experiencing my Faith coming alive...and 3 weeks later losing you, my Faith being tested through deep heartache and loss. Life on Life’s terms, a day at a time….

Rich’s imprint in my life, I will carry for the rest of my days…knowing him, walking in recovery with him, working for him. The community of Sonoma lost a very special person who demonstrated over and over again, how to clean up your side of the street, seek justice, understanding and reach your hand out. But above all we lost a seeker of his own highest potential, walking a flawed, recovered life with Grace, Honesty, and Humility. I am truly a better person for the days that I was blessed to walk alongside Rich Gantenbein.

Pastor Rich

Summer 2014 - When I walked into my first Sonoma Valley Interfaith meeting, Pastor Rich Gantenbein was there to greet me. He gave me a broad smile and a warm hug and welcomed me into the group. Within a few months, our group began to make plans for the Interfaith Thanksgiving worship service which was to be held that year at St Andrew. Rich said something like, “Let the new guy give the main sermon”. I accepted (not much choice) the challenge and a month later, stepped up to the podium for my first time at St. Andrew on that Thanksgiving morning. What I did not know at the time was that moment was to be an opening for a very long-lasting and loving relationship with Pastor Rich and the St. Andrew community.

Pastor Rich and I bonded on many levels, and through our long walks, our friendship blossomed over the years. And so it has been with the St. Andrew community as well. As many of you know, when Rich was away on church service missions abroad, he would sometimes ask me to come deliver the main sermon for Sunday morning. This turned into coming to lead music with my wife, Yaffa, and also opportunities leading adult education after services. And this continues to this day, for which I am truly blessed.

Five years ago this April, Pastor Rich and I met in Jerusalem in the Old City. We sat at a café, shared some pizza, and talked about our families, our communities, and especially our current tours we were both leading with our respected “flocks”. When we finished, I asked him to follow me around the corner, which he did, no questions asked. And there, at the Jaffa Gate, my group of eighteen were waiting for him, to say “shalom” and to get a group picture.

We met once after our Jerusalem encounter, back in Sonoma, as we were planning a day in which the youth from St. Andrew were coming to Congregation Shir Shalom to celebrate an “Interfaith Youth Passover” which had been long in the planning. The date of the gathering was Saturday, April 27th, 2019. It was during that celebration with the St. Andrew youth that I received the call from the hospital and was told of the passing of my dear, beloved friend and colleague, Pastor Rich Gantenbein, of blessed memory.

Pastor Rich left me with a great gift which is the friendship I hold today with the St. Andrew community. I think of him each time I visit this holy fellowship and miss him dearly.

Photo of Rich and members of my community in Jerusalem at the Jaffa Gate. He's in the second row, slightly obscured, standing next to my wife.

Remembering Rich

How strange it still seems that Rich died so suddenly 5 years ago. Those kinds of events seem more suited to someone sick and physically frail which Rich was decidedly not.

Rich was fierce. I remember being at the beach with my kids and my husband who was very ill at that time. To my surprise I saw Rich and Lorna walking on the beach, near the water, in our direction. Rich had his walking stick and was walking at a fast pace digging his stick forcefully into the sand. It was a windy, chilly day and Rich had on a Scottish highland cap and a warm-looking trench coat. The kids and I were closer to the water, my husband sitting further up. Rich saw us first and then as we were talking saw Gary, my husband. Rich emphatically said "Lorna I must talk to Gary" And before either Lorna or myself could answer, Rich was walking up the beach to my husband. Rich knelt down in the sand and just chatted with my husband. Neither realizing that my husband was watching the ocean for the last time.

Rich was loud. A few years after that beach encounter, the kids and I were getting our picture taken for the church directory. Suddenly in the middle of our session, we could hear Rich through the closed door, yelling hello and talking animatedly to the people waiting outside. The photographer said "That must be the Pastor, they are always so loud". When Rich entered a room, you could feel the energy ramp up. Everyone always wanted to talk to him and pick his brain about life, theology, and politics and he was happy to talk to any and all. If you had a problem with him or someone else in the church he would just walk right up to you and get things settled. Sometimes physically walking you over to the person you had a problem with and demanding that you both work things out. He was forever saying "I know you think I preach too much about .... But I don't care. We are going to talk about it."

Rich was a good friend. The kind that was there when it was not convenient or easy. Rich was one of the few people who traveled to Stanford Hospital to visit Gary. Rich would visit us at our house to talk, counsel us, and even help with gas cards and other things to help us navigate cancer and all its challenges. When Gary died at home late at night, I called Rich who had requested I do so. Rich was at my door not 5 minutes later. His presence that night helped me take my first steps into a new life without my husband.

When I first heard that Rich had died, I felt for a moment off balance but then I realized that all the sermons I heard him preach and the support he had given me would see me through in the coming years. Five years or five hundred years I will still be grateful I knew him and will miss him always.

Remembering Pastor Rich

I could write a book...on Pastor Rich....like many others...but for me personally...Rich represented in many ways "What would Jesus Do"...Some conventional...other times ...let us say it was a never ending story....but Rich had a heart for God and people....

First time my husband Jerry and I attended St. Andrew in Sonoma...in the 90's... as we were looking for a home church...I was surprised...at how relaxed the dress code was...even the Pastor did not wear a robe...(but the choir had theirs...!!!)...

After attending for a while... the one place I have noticed from attending other churches in our moves was to get to work in the kitchen...I call it grand central station...there you find the core of activities around the church and the needs... that was a good start at St. Andrew...

Pastor Rich encouraged us to attend a new members class...even if you do not join you will meet more people and it will help you decide what plans God has for you at St. Andrew... And out of our class...we had enough people to start an adult Sunday School Class...

Pastor Rich would head the women's prayer luncheon at the Round Table each month...keeping the needs of the church up front as well great fellowship...and pizza....

Through Rich we all learned that our church did not have "doors"...The church was a relaxing place to rest and refresh...and our mission was to go out and be an example for Him...leading others to Christ... with love...in our everyday life and around the world... Praise His name....

One of the biggest times for me was when Jerry was having a heart attack...and I left a message at Rich's home that Jerry was going to the hospital...and within a short time here comes Rich through our front door...ready to serve me and my family...but Jerry went home to be with the Lord...but Rich was a Shepard...he gathered the flock of St. Andrew to help me...there was not enough words in my bucket to say thank-you enough...

To top that off...each morning I would turn on my computer and he would have scripture for me to read before the day started...Amen...

I have to say thank-you to Lorna to make sure he always had matching socks and clothes...she had good taste....but we can never forget his Christmas red shoes...even when they were thrown out...Rich found them!!!...but the following year he had new "Red" ones...

Thank-you Rich for setting an example of loving your family...and for his family in a great supporting role of his mission in community and the world...

We all could write a book of memories....

 Remember that He cares...

Odessa Sanden