Jason’s heart rate picks up as he looks for his seat on the plane. Sitting next to a stranger means the inevitable question will be asked.
What do you do?
Will he use his rehearsed response? The one where he describes things he does as a pastor that are analogous to many professions? Or will he cut straight to it, knowing it will likely kill the conversation?
Maybe It Is My Age
Like Jason, I often sought to gauge how quickly the turn-off might be if I responded with,
I’m a pastor.
Some may construe this as an embarrassment. Instead, consider it a dilemma. According to Gallup, what Forbes pointed out in 2019 is still true: Clergy ranks as the 9th most trusted and ethical profession among respondents. One might think a profession rooted in the life and teachings of Jesus might show up in the top five most trusted and ethical professions.
Today I do not worry about any turnoff my profession may create. Maybe it is age. Or, maybe it is that rather than letting the stories that draw media attention, such attention suggests clergy should not be trusted or considered ethical. People might think differently if they actually know a member of the clergy. We are human. We like lots of the same things. And we do not carry around tar and feathers.
These things mashed up recently as I re-discovered a sport I played some twenty years ago.
An Old Pattern
Steve came to our church in the mid-1990s. We forged a quick friendship, even if an unlikely one. Me, the straight-laced choir boy of a preacher, and Steve, the tatted-up ex-con, weight-lifting upholsterer. Stan and Ollie for you old timers. We agreed to spend time together on two conditions: 1) I would be his workout partner, and 2) he would read a selection from the Bible for us to discuss.
Steve was proud to make a weightlifter out of me. I was glad the message of the Good News of Jesus struck him deeply. Steve introduced a few of us to his favorite sport, disc golf. I had played a time or two in high school with a large Wham-O frisbee. But I had not played with what Steve called new technology. His stand-in for new discs.
We installed an object course on the five acres we had at the church. Steve organized a Summer Tour that took us to OKC, Tulsa, and Norman courses. Pro Master Steve was his preferred title. And, when playing with Steve, he followed the Mosaic Law, with no grace for a bad shot.
Steve quickly told us that most of the disc golfers he remembered had contract jobs like upholsterers, drywallers, painters, etc. He would get a job done and then spend a few days playing rounds while waiting to start the next job. He added that disc golfers, because it was relatively inexpensive to start and free to play, may not have been as professional in their habits as ball golfers.
I don’t recall what stalled out our regular rounds. But eventually, we stopped playing. Or, I stopped.
New Avenues
Then in May 2020, our youngest daughter suggested we play disc golf. She and I had been steady workout partners for a few years when the pandemic left us wondering what we might do. Getting out of the house early in the morning was our pattern, so we exchanged that workout regimen for nine holes of disc golf as the sun rose. (She still has a video floating around of me slipping off a tee pad in something of a drop-and-roll maneuver.)
After we began playing, I learned other friends had just taken up the sport a month or two earlier. We began getting together regularly after work and on some Saturdays. We got the bug.
My youngest brother quickly picked up the sport, and then my middle brother and nephew. We have played in quite a few tournaments, meeting many people along the way.
Affinity
This past May marked two years since getting back into playing disc golf. Steve and I actually played a round together with another friend, Bob, who still slings discs at almost 70. Playing with old friends is fun. Meeting new people is also an added benefit.
As a few more friends from church and the community began playing more regularly, someone suggested we set a day and time to meet up weekly. I began talking to the State of Oklahoma Professional Disc Golf Association Representative about what might be the best way to organize. He suggested doing a six-week league. After the obligatory Facebook polling, we set the day and time for a six-week league to begin in June. We hoped we might have 30-40 players.
Over the course of that first six-week league, we had more than 100 different players. People from about eight different communities representing very different skill levels came out to play in our little league. We ran a second league that ended in September. We were excited and inspired.
During the planning, I remembered a conversation with a missionary in Barcelona. Caleb had come to us and helped us see that connecting with people to give the Good News did not need to be frightening or freighted with a memorized script. Find something you enjoy, get involved in an existing group or create one, and make friends. Friends eventually share conversations about almost anything.
Office in the Park
Our league played on Thursdays. Most players came after work. I would take some work with me to the Park for those two league sessions. Setting up under the Pavillion on a picnic table, I would make ready to check in players and make sure that those who came had a group with whom they could play.
On a couple of occasions, I posted on social media that the pastor was in the park if anyone needed someone with whom they could talk. Most know I have little trouble talking.
Sitting there one week, I recalled a line from a fellow I met while in Seminary. On my way home, I saw him at his church one day. I remarked that I had trouble connecting with him. He quipped, “You don’t grow the church sitting behind a desk.” Then I thought he was smug and a smart aleck. Today, I think of Jesus’ analogy for those who work in the fields.
No one having put his hand to the plow . . .
Times Have Changed, Not the Work
One of the habits I learned from my mentor all those years ago. The world is your office. That is, wherever you find yourself, you will have the opportunity to fill up what clergy means to someone. Coach. Councilperson. Announcer. Advocate. Board Member. Chamber President. Confidant. Trash Hauler. Water Tower Climber. Disc Golf Tournament Director. And more.
You may surprise some with your earthiness. Others may wonder about the friends you make and keep. For clergy, it will not be the poor who are always with you; your critics will be. That is not meant as sour grapes. Nor is it a subtext for this post. It is a reality that we won’t always fill up whatever expectations someone has for us in their view of the clergy.
But that, my friend, is a law you are not obligated to keep. Once you have put your hand on the plow, God’s one-way love, grace, will keep you pressing ahead, rebuffing the law as you go.