During my first day in the physical office of the Presbyterian Outlook in Richmond, Virginia, George Whipple assured me of his support. He told me he was at the ready to do whatever was needed to help me succeed in my new role and he was true to that promise. He had shepherded several others into the editor’s seat, and he did so without ego or agenda. He knew the contents of the many filing cabinets, the passwords to all the accounts and the challenge of being in a role that would inevitably engender controversy from time to time. George never waivered in his encouragement, patience and kindness — not with me, not with customers, not with board members, not with other members of the staff. And while it is true that George managed the office, sold ads, provided customer service, signed checks and did countless other tasks that kept the publication running, I often thought of him as the Presbyterian Outlook chaplain. George’s pastoral instincts are so embedded in his person that every interaction one has with him is imbued with compassion and gentleness. Everything George did and does reflects his love of God and neighbor.
When a letter to the editor would arrive at the office with a harsh assessment of an article or issue, he would hand it to me with the words, “Remember, you can’t please everyone.” When a subscriber would call and lament the size of the print or the price of the magazine, George would say, “Well, I understand…” and then go on to explain the price or the font or the delay in the mail, never with guile, always with patience. When any one of us on staff got to the end our rope in the midst of endless deadlines, George would reassure us that we were doing our best and that was all we could do, and it was enough.
My daughter volunteered one year at General Assembly and got flustered after a tense exchange at the Outlook booth (someone came up to voice their unhappiness with our reporter’s take on a committee meeting). She told me later and with embarrassment, “I cried to George.” I said, “Honey, don’t think twice about it, we’ve all cried to George.” George has that effect on people. He has the remarkable ability to welcome others’ vulnerability because there is no fear of being judged as a result of it and every confidence of being comforted and reassured. I don’t imagine we could count how many Presbyterians George has consoled on the other end of the phone while sitting behind his desk in downtown Richmond.
Frankly, it is hard to imagine the Presbyterian Outlook without George Whipple. His steadfast loyalty to the mission and people of the Outlook, and to the Presbyterian Church it serves, is unparalleled. I occasionally teased him about his inability to throw away a paper clip or rubber band, but I think those jars of carefully kept office supplies are symbolic of his commitment, of his conscientious stewardship of all the gifts God has entrusted to him, of his faithfulness in little that represents his faithfulness in much. The Outlook has been richly blessed by George’s dutiful, loving, steadfast care for the past 30 years — and all of us lucky enough to have come to know him as a result are richly blessed, too. I am deeply grateful to have worked with George, thankful beyond measure to call him my friend.
I wish nothing but the best for George in this next season of life. I pray he has many hours to spend enjoying his family, especially his grandson, Jack.
Thank you, George, for being a servant leader, a skilled colleague, a gifted pastor and a loyal friend. Well done good and faithful servant!
Jill Duffield is senior pastor of First Presbyterian Church in Greensboro, North Carolina, and previous editor of the Presbyterian Outlook.
