Imagine you’re resting comfortably on a CRJ 900 as it cruises somewhere way up in the clouds over western Nebraska and the flight attendant comes on the intercom and asks if anyone knows how to fly a plane.
Well, here’s a similar and equally serious question (though one that, admittedly, does not entail the deeply upsetting possibility of dying in a place as God-forsaken as western Nebraska): does anyone know how to fly a bulletin?
That’s right, long-suffering parishioners of the Church of Saint Mark! After a turbulent few years, there’s light at the end of the tunnel: I, Nick Check, being of sound mind, willfully and voluntarily declare my resignation as Director of Communications.
That’s it. I’m done. I wash my hands of it. I also wash my feet of it. I’m out of the game, and am headed into the very secret witness protection program that all former bulletin editors enter.
Now, just to be clear, this is a happy departure—my very best efforts notwithstanding. Longtime readers of the bulletin will know that I really should have been fired years ago, so it’s a small miracle that I’m able to leave on such an amicable note. I’m just making a lil’ career move (leaving civilization to live free, among the tapirs, kind of like that guy who went to live with grizzly bears) and I won’t have the time to dedicate to running communications here. (It bears reflection that, in a wild twist that no one could have seen coming, the guy who went to live among the grizzly bears was eaten by grizzly bears--an unbearable, truly grisly demise. So, ya know, sometimes don't follow your dreams?)
Really, I have so much gratitude. I love St. Mark’s a great deal, and the opportunity to serve it in this capacity has been an honor. I owe a lot to Father Humberto for bringing me on, for serving as a source of incredible spiritual counsel, and for doing such a bad job at reading the bulletin so that I could get away with so much silliness. I owe a lot to the rest of the parish staff, past and present, all of whom are living examples of joy and charity. And I owe you good people an apology for taking what was a perfectly normal communications operation and making a big pig’s breakfast out of it just because I get bored easily.
I will not apologize nor retract anything I printed about Nathan Cicero.
A quick order of business: we’ll need someone else to run things. The good news, there, is that I’ve worked at lowering the bar with such diligence that it’s practically clear through to China at this point. Basically, if you like writing, know your way around Adobe’s Creative Suite, and want to serve a one of a kind Parish Family on fire for Christ, reach out, won’t ya? A full job description is on our website.
Know of my prayers, friends, and maybe say a quick Hail Mary or something that the new guy or gal who takes over will find the same happiness and love and spiritual growth I’ve found in the role.