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Dear Loved ones of Forster,

This dear man came to me in a dream recently and it prompted me to reach out. We last saw each other 10 years ago when we met at the lovely Chinese Garden to catch up. 

This gentle soul was a mentor and friend to me during my years of seminary and early ministry. He and Julia were always so welcoming and kind. 

It was so lovely to see him again in a dream! He was his usual beautiful self.

I pray his family is well and thriving!

Sincerely yours,

Joy Haertig

Forster was my spiritual director in Concord and after that, a lifetime friend and spiritual friend, in Concord and later in Portland, but really throughout my life wherever we both lived. He introduced my husband and me, and we were privileged to visit him and Julia in Portland. He is so missed. Fortunately his loving and godly spirit persists through all whom he touched. It is good to remember Forster on what would have been his 94th birthday. He will especially be in my prayers tonight.
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Raised by 3 people
Foster was our favorite pastor over our 50 years in Concord MA. Such a insightful and friendly person. Good to remember him on his birthday.
He was so non judgmental and honestly exuded the Unconditional Love of Jesus Christ. He would give healing sessions in our church in Janesville. Quite a number of members would be there, on a week night. I was one of them this particular evening, having a very troubled moment as a teenager. Forster said this pray. He said, “ Let God come in and mold you as he sees fit”
At that moment my head was pulled back by a higher force, an intense flow of energy came into me from the top of my head and flooded my entire body.
I was wondering if this was real, so I pulled my head down, but no, my head was pulled back up facing the strong light of gentle energy. I was receiving pure light of God and Jesus Christ.
I know this because when Rev. Forster need his Pray
I looked at him on the Pulpit and there was a cross of pure White Light floating over his right shoulder!
As he was still talking he walked around a bit, and the Cross went with him.
I also instantly comprehended during this transference of his Pray, the Unconditional Love is Jesus Christ. It was very profound and I continued to receive the healing that I needed for months to come!
It was Forster’s knowing of the power of these sessions he gave that were of total Mystic experience and a pure egoless act on Forster’s part. Tears came to my eyes.
In response to "What act of kindness did you witness from Rev. Forster?"
Shared a heart Red heart
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Today would have been Forster's 93rd birthday, and I just saw that he joined his beloved Julia and other Saints in Light last November. I'm sorry I missed the news earlier, but I still wanted your family to know what a blessing he was in our lives. My husband, Matt & I considered Forster & Julia dear friends and wise mentors, and had lost touch. He performed our wedding (1986!), and we spent many wonderful times at their home when we were at PSR, and my husband, Matt Schneider-Adams, was doing Field Ed at FCCB. I still remember the fun of preparing for Forster's surprise 60th birthday party with Julia (I have pictures somewhere), and I have Julia's recipe for her mouthwatering Scottish shortbread!
Prayers for your family, and blessings to all who loved him.
Thanks be to God for his new Life in Christ.
Susan & Matt Schneider-Adams
schnadams@gmail.com
Clarence IA
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Welcome everyone - Eulogy

Thank you all for traveling far and wide to join together, with Forster’s spirit, to remember and celebrate his remarkable life journey. After going through Dad’s meticulous records including some of his favorite passages and recollections, I’m here to say that Forster was a dear father and a trail blazer who charted his course with the light of Christ, choosing his destinations based on an inner call and a promise to make a just and better world. His passion was to be a spiritual companion for people along the way so that they could embrace their life challenges with more love and acceptance. He described this journey on the road home as – “Becoming Who You Already Are”.

As you will see in the reception slideshow following this service, Foss was a bright, red-headed boy who had the good fortune to be raised with his sister Gwen in a family that cultivated an appreciation for music, the Swedenborgian Church and social justice. His mother was a gifted church organist who came from a long line of ministers and his father was a Swedenborgian and second generation lawyer, whose profession enabled the family to spend their summers at a cottage on a farm in Franklin Lakes, N.J
Stricken with rheumatic fever at a young age, Dad lived with a heart murmur that restricted him from playing sports and enlisting in the armed forces during World War 2. He became an avid trumpet player and went on to play in Princeton University’s marching band, completing his accelerated 3-year study program with an early college graduation.

Fate would have it that he married our mother Julia Parker who had the wisdom to suggest that rather than pursuing his graduate study in economics, might he consider the ministry? That was a Eureka moment that resulted in a graduate degree from Union Theological Seminary, the founding of a church in New Jersey at the age 23 and the start of a family in 1950.

Fast forward five years to Edinburgh, Scotland where Mom and Dad were living their dream with their wee laddies Peter and I, just downhill from New College, an historic divinity school in Edinburgh Castle. It was a happy time that Dad described in a letter upon their return from a London vacation. “Soon after we crossed the border into Scotland, Julie decided that she’d better pick up some provisions to last us over the weekend. When we came into town in Tranent, therefore, we inquired of a man on the street if there were a green grocer nearby who would be open.
He replied with the real thing, that rapturous burry language of the true Scot that we hadn’t heard in almost two weeks. It sounded so good that we almost cried. Then back to our welcome looking-flat, all in jolly good spirits. We all felt much in love with each other, (even Leigh and Peter were offering their toys to each other with kisses) and with our Lord, who has been so passing kind.”
Wow, so much gratitude, love of the world, and thanks giving to God for the blessings in life – that was Dad’s gift and the source of his spiritual ministry that inspired so many people over his lifetime.

A year later we returned to upstate New York, where Dad started Pebble Hill Presbyterian Church on an estate property with a rambling old house for a make-shift church and a Praire design-style guest house that we called home. This was a formative time for all of us, with the exciting arrival of sisters Elizabeth and Anne and the eventual building of a large, contemporary church in 1963. Looking back, some of our fondest memories of Dad were doing projects with him. I think these are especially memorable both for the practical skills that he taught us and for the one-on-one time that we had with him that was so precious. As minister’s kids, our challenge was having a father who worked on Sunday and often the rest of the weekend and a few weekday evenings to boot. That said, Dad was attentive to making time for us. When he occasionally returned from a late evening appointment, I warmly remember him poking his head thru our bedroom doorway and gently telling Peter and I how much he loved us.

Elizabeth recalls doing her Saturday morning chores and appreciating Dad’s teaching her the same skills as us boys, such as building ski racks and repairing lamps that to this day, serve her well. Anne recalls Dad letting her help him build a birdhouse out of a coffee can and paint it green, then hang it in a tree. Peter has a fond memory of getting a pet rabbit without a place to keep him. Dad stepped up and helped him build a great rabbit hutch that was very pleasing and easy to periodically move; leaving fresh green rectangles on the lawn that no one seemed to mind.

Every Sunday after the final church service, we would celebrate the end of Dad’s workday by gathering around the dining room table to enjoy a fine meal that Mom had prepared while being serenaded by Dad’s music choice of Handel’s Water music, a Chopin waltz, or the Glen Miller jazz band. The table conversations were upbeat, when a lonely parishioner or newly arrived immigrant would oftentimes join us at our table. On those occasions, we gave thanks to God with prayerful song, engaged in conversations with strangers and learned about their life stories. Dad’s faith and outreach to others naturally made him a strong advocate for social justice. On one occasion he traveled to Selma, Alabama in 1965 to join Martin Luther King’s protest march in support of voting rights.

I didn’t realize how deeply touched I was by Dad’s ministry to the sick and disheartened until he died and I heard the song – “At My Table”. When I listened to the song lyrics - “If you’re broken, you are welcome. If you’re outside looking in, If you have no place of your own. My door is open, it’s always open.” – I remembered that was our table - and was overcome with a deep appreciation for Mom and Dad’s gracious hospitality and loving care of others.

One of their favorite art pieces was a sculpture of the Prodigal son and his father, who was bending over his wayward son with joy and thanksgiving - celebrating his son’s return. Looking back, I marvel at our good fortune to have grown up in a household that embraced Christ’s message: - the love of God is always with us and that God will turn even our failures into perfect love.

Other warm memories of Dad, were traveling across the country with him on family vacations and going to Pike, our beloved family cabin in Milford, Pennsylvania. One of the perks of being a pastor was you could arrange a one month exchange with another pastor’s family that led to our visiting a country parsonage in Nova Scotia one summer and a beachside parsonage on Lake Superior, Wisconsin another summer. Best of all was Pike, where a rushing mountain stream not far from the cabin, tumbled over a waterfall into a natural pool of trout filled waters. What fun we had jumping off the waterfall into cold, amber-colored water; hastily pulling ourselves out to join in a picinic conversation or relax on a towel beside the melodious stream.

We all remember Dad teaching us how to trout fish with grasshoppers. The ritual started with chasing down and eventual bottling these flying critters into a glass jar, then hooking them under their collar and launching them into the water. Dad was in another league - equipped with bamboo fishing rods, waders, and hand-tied flies - he preferred to fly cast in Scottish tradition. Curiously enough, we noticed he ended up catching fewer trout than we did which never seemed to matter. We all cherished going to Pike and meeting up with our family relatives there, which is why Dad’s ashes will be returned to the quiet woods behind the cabin, where our mother lies.

The summer of 1964 we piled into the station wagon and traveled all the way to California and back. Tent camping along the way, we relied on AAA Trip Tiks that guided us to a number of incredible national parks and campsites. When we were back on the road the following day with Mom at the wheel, Dad would get out his guitar and introduce us to folk songs like Woodie Guthrie’s “This land is your land, this land is my land, from California to the New York Island”. What a pleasure it was to have Dad strum along while we figured out how to rehearse and eventually sing the four part harmony song “Rock-a My Soul in the Bosom of Abraham”. It was such a rock’in favorite that Anne recently told me she sang it with Dad a few months ago while they were strolling down a Mary’s Woods hallway, headed for lunch.

It turned out that summer was a pivotal time for Dad and our family. Dad spoke about it four years later in a May 1968 sermon entitled “Call and Promise” when he announced to the church congregation of 13 years that he was called to become a co-director of a healing arts center in Santa Cruz, California called Well-Springs. He took care to explain to the congregation how he and our mother had come to this decision, by both reasoning it out carefully and by inward sensing. He shared the miraculous healing of his lifelong heart murmur during his stay at Well-Springs, when he said he had a “break-through of the healing love of God where, the experience was so powerful that it resulted in the healing of a physical ailment that I’d had since childhood”. He then went on to share the direction of his life’s work saying “As I understand it, the churches are meant to have 2 principle emphasises. One emphasis is the journey inward in which we discover who God is and who we are and then let Him come invade us, guide us, and give us power to do what is his plan. The other part is to get into action in a relevant way in this world’s society.”

While the move to Well-Springs was short lived, with our family’s return to the East coast a year later, it was a bold move that was challenging for the family and eventually led to other rewarding ministry positions with new communities and friends.

Thank you Dad for taking us to California – it was amazing to be living in a redwood forest on a mountain overlooking the pacific coastline during the exciting time of California’s counter-culture movement. It exposed us to a dynamic 1960’s coming of age experience that affirmed “there is a season turn, turn, turn and a time to every purpose under heaven.”

Thank you for your courageous example to follow God’s calling, trusting in a bigger plan that would build on that which you knew today.

Thank you for your loving companionship as a father and a friend that has been recounted in so many grateful stories about your invaluable counsel, spiritual direction and steadfast support. We will miss your hearty laughter and your eagerness to catch up on the latest family news.

It is with gladness of heart that we know you are continuing life in another world, where according to Emmanuel Swedenborg, that other “world is invisible to the eyes of our earthly bodies but visible there in a light that surpasses by a thousand fold the light of noonday on earth.”

Until we meet again, may you be blessed and singing -
From strength to strength, from cross to glory, Lead us, Lord of Light, Till Journey’s end we come rejoicing To the banquet of life.
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Robina Brown
2013, Trinity Episcopal Cathedral, Portland
My spouse and I were thinking of moving to Mary's Woods, Oregon, from London, UK. We went to the Sunday service at the Cathedral with friends, who introduced us to Forster. The following day when we went to visit Mary's Woods Retirement Community for the first time, Forster was asked to show us around, and he was a good publicity agent! We promptly signed up for one of the new villas and moved in the summer of 2015. I regularly played volleyball in the pool with Forster. I'm glad that I could attend his Memorial Service at the place where I first met him.
To all of my Freeman cousins, please know that Dan and I had planned to join you for Uncle Foss's celebration. His sister has kept us very busy the last couple weeks and we are still needed here.
Know that we will be celebrating with you from here instead.
Love to you all,
Gwyneth and Dan
I was privileged to know Forster when I worked at Mary's Woods years ago. He was a founding member of the Ecumenical (now Interfaith) Celebrations Committee and when I left, Forster and his wonderful friend, Philip Martin, organized and hosted my farewell celebration.

I remember:
His deep and resonant voice that proclaimed scripture
Inspiring sermons
The heartiness of his laughter
In his eyes, a merriment and a knowing
His delight in welcoming people
The loyalty of his friendship
Receiving passages significant to him from the Swedenborgian Church
A wonderful friend and minister with loving capacity and compassion to hold concerns entrusted to him for wise consideration and prayer.

Reflecting on this emerging new year he remains a model of integrity, justice, joyous living and loving giving.
Bless Forster on his way. He and Julia were long term friends and we had much gratitude for what they meant to our lives. As some of you might remember we were in Concord in the other UCC church. Tuck was minister there and I was on the staff. When the Freemans arrived in town the place they were going to live wasn’t ready so they came to live with us for a short time in our parsonage in West Concord. This quickly cemented a friendship that lasted over the years. Several times I attended workshops with Forster that nurtured my spiritual life. We shared with each other the ups and downs of church life and found ways for our two churches to do things together. I especially remember Anne and Elizabeth who were part of the Concord time and kept up on their lives through Julia and Forster. I send my caring to all the family at your loss . Tuck died a year and a half ago, but I know how he treasured his friendship with Forster. So I celebrate Forster’s life and bless him on his way. Bobbie Gilbert
In 1983 my father died, leaving his house in Lincoln, Mass. to be sold. I lived and worked in Maine then, so I needed someone to live there while it was for sale. That year, a couple named Forster and Julia Freeman were looking for a place to live while Forster was the interim minister of the local Congregational church and working on his doctorate in spiritual direction at the Harvard-Weston program. I had never met religious professionals before, and the people I'd met
who went to church didn't inspire an interest in that way of life, but I figured this couple would be adequate house-sitters for the 2-3 months it would take for the house to sell, so I invited them to move in, explaining that it would likely be only for a brief time. They asked if their son, Leigh, could move in for a bit while he was in transition, and I said fine.
A month or so later, I decided to leave Maine and move back to my hometown of Cambridge, Mass., and I asked F&J if I could move briefly into the servants' quarters in the basement while looking for my own place, and they said yes. We were complete strangers in so many ways -here were people who said grace before meals, went to church, were really nice, thoughtful people who genuinely liked others and made themselves available in all kinds of new and unexpected situations. Most exotic of all, they invited me to share their morning prayer and communion service daily. Body and blood? To a non-religious person, this seemed barbaric, and I refused their offer, even though they were so nice and this seemed so important to them.
For no discernible reason, the house didn't sell for a year, when Forster would be finishing both his post at the church and the work for his degree. So there I was, living with these strange people who invited me to meals, to the parties they gave - and to church. Initially, I was reluctant, as religion held no attraction for me - plus, being a nurse, I had the perfect excuse of needing to work weekends.
But, gradually, the experience of living with these remarkable people began to sink into my being and to affect me deeply - not only was I able to go to parties full of people I didn't know for the first time in my life, but I found myself changing even more profoundly. I listened to their experience of God and their love of Jesus with none of my former skepticism or cynicism, and I began to understand love in an entirely new way. Although I had loved -and been loved -throughout my life, in relationships with family, friends and lovers, my inner being, my heart, had never known the experience of feeling loved. I did with them, and it completely changed my life. They were instruments of a great healing, one that freed me from my interior prison of self-hate and allowed me to become fully alive. I regard that year as the beginning of my life, even though I was 35 years old.
By the time Forster and Julia left for Berkeley, I was eagerly going to church (though never quite comfortable in the first row!), and I continued to do so after they left, looking for a quality of preaching similar to Forster's, the kind that weekly picks you up gently and places you back on the path of the life you're meant be living. I was able to stay in touch with them after they moved, and they kindly invited me to stay with them on my yearly visits to my brother and his family, who also lived in Berkeley. Each visit, I grew in knowledge and in faith - and of course I joined them for morning prayer and communion every day. In 1989 I was baptized, and Forster and Julia became my Godparents, a no-brainer, as they had introduced me to God and to his Son. In 1993, I received a call to religious life, which shocked me to my depths; with Forster and Julia's guidance, and that of the SSJE Brothers at the monastery in Cambridge, I entered an Episcopal convent in Boston. Though I later transferred to an Order in England, I've been able to continue annual visits with my beloved God-parents, seeing Julia shortly before her death in 2009, and Forster last year. I will miss his earthly presence terribly - yet, even deeper, and stronger, is the life-giving joy of having known Forster and experiencing the Love that God manifested through him and implanted in so many of us who knew such a wonder-full instrument of holy grace.
In gratefulness and blessing, Sr. Helen Banks SLG
During Helen Banks visit
Mary’s Woods at Marylhurst, Holy Names Drive, Lake Oswego, OR, USA
During Helen Banks visit
I met Forster at Trinity Cathedral Portland in the mid to late ‘90s. Forster was a real inspiration in my journey. A memorable time was a traditional English Christmas dinner party that his long time friend Elaine Hooker and I did together. It was easy to love Julia and Forster. They were awesome people.
Forster was a pivotal figure in my life. He was my supervisor when I was an intern at FCCB and he displayed the gracious and peaceful love of Christ to me. Then, he helped suggest I take his previous parish in West Concord MA and I loved it there. I remain deeply thankful for the way he helped mentor me into ministry.

Rest in peace, my friend,

Jim Keck
So very sorry for your loss. Forster was an incredible man/minister who had a profound effect on my life. When I came back to church, he and Julia took me under their wings and nurtured and guided my spiritual life. They were powerfully connected to the Holy Spirit and to my great surprise I found myself in Seminary. A story Forster told was about a time when he was a young minister and learned a parishioner had lost a child. He went over to her house and sat beside her for a long time. He said he never said a word, just sat there. I learned about the importance of presence. Another story, from my ordination. He gave me my charge to ministry and the one charge I remembered and used the most was “to murder your darlings.” It kept sermons and writings to the point. His humor, amazing presence and deep love of God, Jesus and Holy Spirit and faith stay with me. Julie Stokstad, Berkeley, CA
We are so sorry for your loss. He was a wonderful, exceptional man. We miss him too...so many memories, and so much appreciation for the loving gifts that he shared with our family over recent years.
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First service in new Pebble H…
1963, DeWitt, NY, USA
First service in new Pebble Hill Presbyterian Church, Rev Forster Freeman preaching
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Groundbreaking for new Pebble…
1961, DeWitt, NY, USA
Groundbreaking for new Pebble Hill Presbyterian Church
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Foss was instrumental in guiding me through difficult times as a teenager when I was a member of the Pebble Hill Presbyterian Church in DeWitt, NY. His steady light was always with me.
From Nan Nelson -

Today at Mary's Woods we held a Ritual of Remembrance gathering for our residents who died in the month of November.

We remembered Forster.

Comments: greatly loved by many; his pastoral visits to those who were ill; changing the name from ecumenical to Interfaith on a committee; being a minister and serving communion at our 4PM Ecumenical Sunday service; being an enthusiastic volley ball player.
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From Karen Hilliard -
I send my deepest condolences to you and the entire Freeman family. I know that even though you all have a million reasons to salute this beautiful man with grateful and happy hearts, you will mourn his passing from this realm to the next. They are never far from us (as you well know) and they can reach us and we can reach them. Prayer and Meditation makes it possible. I can only imagine how complete his soul must be now that he is in his “new home” and One with God in this new realm. I will pray for his soul.
My thoughts and prayers are with Leigh, Peter, Elizabeth, and Anne. Missing your Dad as a special Pastor, friend, and neighbor. Special memories of Foss as my first spiritual guide in a life long journey!

Deedee Elleman
Pebble Hill Presbyterian Church
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