Go Wild!
Just don't eat the people
High on my list of “Things I Didn’t Learn In Seminary [Pastor School] About Being A Pastor” is the way a potential new relationship becomes distorted right in front of my eyes when I give the answer to the inevitable question, “What do you do?” [implication: “What is your job?” “What is your employ?” “How do you spend the greater number of hours in the work week?”]
I hate this question. I know it’s a thing that new people ask of one another. It’s a get to you know sort of question. It’s the kind of question you ask when you're first meeting a person and you expect either some sort of boring answer that enables the conversation to progress into more interesting territory, or an exciting sort of answer that allows you to settle in and hear some good stories. Even when it’s the accurate answer, ‘pastor’ is usually the wrong answer to that question.
I say ‘pastor’ and immediately the conversation shifts. There is a mood change. The use of certain words and engagement with certain topics suddenly disappears. A defense barrier arises around my new potential friend. More than once, my job title has cured vocal slurring. People begin to behave like I am Santa's elf in charge of the naughty list or worse, they assume that I am innocence incarnate.
My Lift driver, on the way from the Tampa airport to St. Pete’s Beach, upon realizing that I was pastor, asked if I really wanted to go to St. Pete’s.
I told him, “Yeah, that’s where I have a hotel reservation. Why?”
He replied, “Well, I don’t judge, but people over in St.Pete’s are kind of wild.”
After a beat, where I tried to parse the vagueness and non-judgy-ness of calling people 'wild,' I kept a straight face and pressed in a tone that indicated that I was ready for the insider scoop of truth, “You mean like cannibalism?”
“No!” His eyes flashed into the rearview mirror, “Like, parties and drinking and stuff.”
“Oh, good.” I replied with relief, “I think I can handle that.”
The rest of the drive was shockingly quiet.
In Wordy Wordiness,
Walter