During this summer I served as a ministerial intern at an amazing church. One Wednesday evening, I facilitated a Bible study with a portion of the seven-hundred member congregation. After the benediction Lacey* and Lisa*, two members with whom I had become acquainted decided to go to a local seafood restaurant to have some late night vittles. They told me about a Wednesday night’s special: a spicy shrimp dish. As we arrived at the restaurant, we ran into one of Lisa’s girlfriends. Brenda*, was a local art gallery owner. Lisa introduced me as the intern at the church. Then Brenda looked at me and said, “So, you’re a minister? So what do you think…..?” Then the fun began!
Brenda went on to tell me how she was raised in the black Baptist tradition, then later renounced Christian faith but remained a theist. She raised her kids without any religion. She asked me what I thought about portions of Christian worship which seemed to exclude non-Christians. She also wanted to know what I thought about her Christian friends calling her saying that they’ll pray for her atheist college-aged son who now apparently is exploring an Eastern religion. Within five minutes, I was a bit annoyed and hungry. As this woman pouring her heart out and seeking my informed opinion, my mind was on that spicy shrimp dish!
“So you’re minister, right?” “So you attend divinity school, right?” “So, what do you think about….?” Some say ministry doesn’t stop when you remove the collar, take off the robe, step down from the pulpit, and walk out of the sanctuary. But sometimes, well, many times I think, “Damn, ordained and licensed clergy have to live their lives too!” I want to be normal some times. Don’t get me wrong! I’m called to representative ministry. What I mean is that I would like to enjoy a good movie without thinking of its theological implications. I want to go out to eat and have a good time without someone starting a statement: “So, you’re a minister, right? What do you think about….?” Whenever people learn of my vocation, they begin to ask me questions or act different around me, unless their seminarians and ministers too then we can all have beers in bliss! Perhaps some people are genuinely sincere about what I think regarding issues concerning faith and life. Otherwise, I assume people want to create an interesting conversation or start some unnecessary s*@t.
Often when I come home from a long day of study or class at Duke, I get calls from my brother late evenings asking me deep theological questions. ”My God, can a brother get some sleep?!!” I’ve become his theological go-to guy. I can count it a privilege, but I often consider it annoying. ”Hasn’t he heard of Wikipedia or Crosswalk? Amazon and Christian Book Distribution have specials on books regarding that subject?” I want to tell him, ”Get off the phone and call me at a more godly hour!”
I am a minister. Every day I am learning more of what this means. The call to proclaim the Gospel through word and sacrament is humbling. To witness the passing of some one’s grandfather, to visit the sick and shut-in, to serve Communion to the forgiven, and to preach the Gospel is nothing short of incredible. However, I often experience joy going to my favorite bookstore, chillin’ out at my favorite coffee shop, or lingering at my favorite kitchen appliance store without “outing” myself as clergy.
Some way or another, the Spirit brings in my life those who may never step foot in a church building to hear what I have to say or want me to have a listening ear and practice the ministry of presence. “So, you’re a minister, right?” “Yes, I am.” “Can I ask you about…?” Here it goes again. God be praised!
*pseudonyms to protect anonymity
I’ve found the same thing as a Student Pastor. It’s VERY rewarding, but also very lonely. We have an image to uphold as Christ’s representatives, but yet we’re human and sometimes just want to wear a t-shirt and sweat pants and go out to the store without shaving. To a degree, I try to be as “human” as possible in public while still representing Christ in a faithful way, but often, I fail at one or the other – either I’m “too human,” or I’m not true to my “humanness.” Thank God for Grace and Forgiveness!