Eugene Sutton
I’ve known Mark Bush for 41 years, when he and Miriam came to Muskegon Heights to join me as co-pastors of Covenant Community Church. Their calling was a bit of a surprise; they were not the obvious choice.
The obvious choice for Covenant at that time was an experienced pastor to lead the church since I had only been ordained less than three years. We had an excellent candidate who really wanted to come to Covenant: personable, a good family man, an excellent reputation in the denomination, and a great preacher. The other candidates were Mark and Mimi: very young, still in seminary, not yet ordained, showed a lot of promise, but didn’t have the experience in parish ministry that we all thought was needed. But one thing they had in spades: enthusiasm! They yearned to be at an urban church that was committed to spiritual renewal, racial reconciliation, and community action. They knew Covenant Church to be that kind of parish.
I remember well that evening meeting of the Consistory – the church governing board – to make a decision for which of the ministers to call. Everyone knew what the outcome would be: the experienced pastor. I had a vote, too, and even though I liked the obvious candidate very well, there was something about that young couple that I couldn’t get out of my head, nor my heart. I decided on my way to the church that I was going to vote for Miriam and Mark because I just felt that that we needed them for some reason, and that they needed us as well. I fully expected that mine would be the lone vote for them.
At the meeting, the great patriarch of the church in so many ways, Herman Kruizenga, said that before we would begin with discussion about the relative merits of each candidate – and before taking any votes – we should just start with a straw poll of the members, with each one writing down confidentially on a slip of paper which candidate(s) they thought would be at the top of their list.
The slips of paper were collected in a basket. Herman then reached into the basket to unfold each paper individually and read out the name. To everyone’s complete surprise, 100% of the papers said that Mark and Miriam Bush would be their first choice to co-pastor Covenant Community Church with me. The room became very silent; our jaws could have dropped to the floor. No one expected the results of that poll. Everyone thought that theirs would be the lone vote for the Bushes – a vote from their heart. After what seemed like five minutes of everyone just looking at each other in silence out of sheer amazement, finally Mr. Kruizenga said something like, “It seems that the Holy Spirit has spoken. There’s no need to vote now. Our work is done; let’s go home.”
Miriam was the wise steady one in our ministry team; Mark and I were just a few years away from being college knuckleheads. We became fast friends, though. There was so much I admired about Mark, but none more than his integrity. What you saw in him was what you got; no hidden agendas that you had to figure out. I could always get the straight scoop from him: no frills, no fudging, no “beating around the bush” (ok, he wouldn’t mind a pun or two at his funeral). In short, he would never make a bishop in any church I know. He had too much self-respect than to sink that low in the ecclesiastical totem pole.
No, he was content to stay at Covenant Church, through thick and thin, the good times and the bad times, the challenges as well as the joys. And there were so many joys! He had a true pastor’s heart, and that’s saying something these days.
Mark became a long distance friend for me ever since those early days in the mid-1980’s, even though we only connected sporadically. There’s a kind of bond that forms with people you get into the trenches with when doing ministry together, even when you’re not in constant contact with each other. I’ll never forget his coming along on one of the spiritual pilgrimages abroad that I lead occasionally when I served at the National Cathedral, this particular time to France. I can’t tell you how much I loved that trip, in no small part because Mark was there with me…while on sabbatical, I believe. We spent half the time in France eating their damn good food, drinking their damn good wine, all while admiring their damn beautiful cities. Oh, and we prayed too.
Being the good Frenchies we had become by that point, we went out and bought berets to put on our heads, fooling nobody, of course, but feeling that these two guys who had worked together and been shaped by the wonderful ministry this church was doing in Muskegon Heights, Michigan, were in fact the “real deal” over there in Paris. (Oh, and our tour guide’s name was “Guy” - pronounced “Ghee” with a hard G, for no apparent reason except…they’re French, for crying out loud. Ah, the joie de vivre! I had never felt closer to my old colleague and buddy than when we were there in France pretending to be refined men, trying to be like Guy - who in our minds was a real guy.
Well, Mark Bush really WAS a real guy, in my mind. He was the real deal: husband, father, pastor, colleague, and a honest-to-goodness friend of Jesus Christ. Mark knew Jesus, and Jesus knew him. Our faith teaches us that their friendship is growing more and more into eternity, even as we speak; two guys knit together by the wide mercy and love of God that recognizes no boundary between earth and heaven, time and space, nor in life or in death.
I miss you, Mark; we all do. Rest in peace, dear guy, and rise in Christ’s glory forever and ever, amen.
The Rt. Rev. Eugene Taylor Sutton
Senior Pastor, Chautauqua Institution
October 24, 2025
