Forty years ago, just after I was ordained
to Christian ministry, I stopped by my seminary one last time. By coincidence I encountered a theology
professor who happened to be my faculty advisor.
“Well,” I said in my facetious way, “I’ve
been ordained, and now I’m ready to head out and convert the heathen!”
Without missing a beat, he replied, “Or be
converted.”
Yikes!
True enough, over the years there was
pressure at times to acknowledge and affirm ideas and convictions that were
less than honorable or relevant to the faith.
There also were numerous incidents when
people said things to me that I found to be utterly ridiculous. For instance, one man, an elder (elected by
the others as a “spiritual leader”) in one of my congregations remarked in an
adult study group, “God invented war so man could resolve his conflicts.”
Someone else in that same church explained
to me that she “and the Man Upstairs have an understanding. Things will be alright between us as long as
I have a roof over my head and two meals a day.” How very understanding of her to require only
two meals instead of three. I wondered what she would do to God if that contract
was breached – stop attending worship??
Twice over the years there were offers,
once by a man walking in off the street and once by a church member, to let the
church sell their poems, either on wooden plaques or in brochures, as a way to
raise money for the budget. The
stranger, who obviously expected a cut of the profits, said, “Who knows? Maybe God wants me to be rich.”
At times folks made prayer requests that
were so detailed and specific, covering multiple eventualities, that I hoped
God was standing by to jot down the assigned “to-do” list.
One time, after a Christmas Eve worship
service a man said to me, “You didn’t mention the mid-wife.” The only response I could come up with was,
“Huh?”
“You didn’t say anything about the
mid-wife who assisted in the birth of Jesus.”
“Mid-wife? What mid-wife? There isn’t anything in the Bible about a
mid-wife when Jesus was born.”
As the man looked at me his wife tugged
his arm and spoke up, “Dear, you’re thinking of that show we watched on
TV.” I wasn’t sure he was convinced it
was a dramatization rather than Biblical.
I heard a lot during my career, some of it
sincere wrestling with the faith, some of it just plain absurd.
There was a particular case when I really
was caught off-guard.
One Saturday the elders group of the
church in Washington gathered for their regular meeting. After it was adjourned, and I was having all
the little post-meeting conversations with various people, one man lingered.
When all the others were gone, he seemed
almost troubled. I stood and looked at
him trying to discern his level of concern.
He moved a little closer to me, and in low tones said, “I’m going to
tell you something very few people know about me, including everyone who was
here today.”
I braced myself for a gut-wrenching
confession.
This man, probably in his late 50’s, whom
I perceived to be a serious person of sincere Christian faith, and who was
always dignified in his appearance and demeanor, took another step closer to
me as I feared the worst.
In a quiet voice that sounded somewhere
between conspiritorial and almost ashamed, this elder in the flagship church of
our denomination said to me, “I’m a clown.”
As he looked deeply into my eyes for my
reaction, I said, “A…clown?”
He told me his clown name and went on to
explain that he took on the clown personna to visit children in hospitals, did
face-painting at festivals and special events, and even wrote a regular column
in a face-painting magazine.
As I released the tension over expecting
to hear some terrible, dark truth about him, he asked me to promise not to reveal
his secret.
I’m not sure why he felt the need to hide his alter ego, or to tell me about it, but I honored his request. One day, though, we had a neighborhood gathering in the church parking lot, and there he was, all clowned up, painting the faces of giggling children. I wondered if any of the other church folks in attendance realized it was him. I certainly didn’t tell.
