Retiring minister taking break before next challenge

By Mary Kaye Ritz
Advertiser Religion & Ethics Writer

The Rev. Dr. Edward "Ted" Robinson Eugene Tanner • The Honolulu Advertiser Age: 64 Family: Married to Barbara Robinson, a teacher at Sacred Hearts Academy; two children and two grandchildren. Background: Born and raised in Westwood, Mass. Earned bachelor's, master's and doctorate ministry degrees. Ordained in 1964 by the Metropolitan Boston Association of the United Church of Christ. Retirement: After 19 years, he gives his last sermons tomorrow as senior minister at Central Union, at 8:30 a.m. and 10 a.m. worship, as well as delivering the sermon for the Punchbowl sunrise service. Community service: Served on boards for the Honolulu Boy Choir, the Hawaii Council of the Girl Scouts of America, Hawaii Habitat for Humanity, the Honolulu County Medical Ethics Board, the Salvation Army and the YMCA.

Oh, the Rev. Dr. Edward "Ted" Robinson might not be up at the pulpit as the senior minister of Central Union Church after tomorrow, but you can bet he'll be staying near to his dear Hawai'i.

"We love the place, and they can scatter my ashes under the palm trees when that time comes," Robinson said.

Tomorrow will be a big day for the longtime United Church of Christ minister: Robinson will wake before dawn, do the honors for the annual Punchbowl sunrise service, then go back to Central Union for two more worship services.

He intends to hole up on the premises for a while, too, doing some writing. He doesn't plan to vacate until May.

"There's an awful lot of the unknown out there ... Is there something else important for me to do?" he said.

First things first: He'll have more time for his grandchildren. And the family will spend July and August in Lake Tahoe.

"Then I'll come back, and see what's out there," said Robinson, who has been a minister for 40 years. "It's funny, people have already got my future all planned. I've never been retired before. I've been one of those 24/7 people. The greatest challenge will be to redirect my life, not feel guilty about putting up my feet on a footstool and reading a book all morning."

In a far-ranging interview on Thursday at his office, Robinson looked back on what brought him to Hawai'i (he happened to call the interim minister during the search to check references for someone else and was told he should throw his name in the hat), what challenges he has faced and the legacy he hopes to leave.

"People keep asking me, 'What are you going to do?' ... When you come out of seminary, you think about preaching, praying, maybe visiting the sick," Robinson said. "You discover, you're also concerned about wheth-

er the front lawn is staying green, whether the plumbing is working, personnel issues. I think being a minister today has become much more complex."

Stewardship issues, social justice issues, building projects, keeping the historic church in good working order — all have been on his docket. Robinson's genius may have been his longevity.

"Harry Truman said, 'If you stay close enough to the donkey, it can't kick you,' " he said.

As for Robinson's legacy, he brings up the grandfather clock in his living room, and the pendulum swings. He may not be at the helm when churches tackle some of the difficult social justice issues of tomorrow, but he has overseen divisive issues, such as the apology given to the Hawaiian people by his denomination in the 1990s for the overthrow of the Hawaiian monarchy.

Robinson calls himself a centrist who has been able to "watch that pendulum go back and forth."

His way was to call in the wise counsel of lay people and work toward a consensus. That, Robinson said, is how the apology got written.

"It's hard for me to feel guilty for what happened 100 years ago," he said, "but I can feel the responsibility to do what I can."

One position he is proud to have reinstituted was that of a city missionary — an inspiration that came after reading the diary of one early helper. In the early 1900s, Central Union's city missionary went from home to home, asking people if they had any needs.

"The church has always had a keen interest in reaching out in the community, but I thought we needed to do more, so I decided to use the same term," he said.

Today, the city missionary tackles homeless issues as well as women/families in transition and the disenfranchised.

The church also touts its successful adult daycare center and its preschool is at capacity, too.

Robinson is also proud of All Saints Bakery and Catering, a social enterprise of the church that sold baked goods and taught skills to people in need. The pilot project launched last fall was financed as a faith-based initiative.

"We want a door into our church," he said. "We're not strictly a tall spire church. We want to be welcoming to the wealthiest or those who have no place to lay their heads at night."

When he thinks about the way he wants to be remembered, Robinson grew quiet. It was apparent his mind went to his flock.

"Ten, 20 years from now, I hope they'll remember the good things and the tender moments. ... If a person came up and said, 'Your ministry touched my life, it gave me faith,' that, truly for me, is all I need. I don't need a monument."