Sunday has become such a different day. As Mary and I drove around mid-morning looking for one of our favorite restaurants without a queue I uttered a question that was often asked when I was in the ministry, “Why aren’t all these people in church?” Obviously the context of the question had changed significantly.
There was an e-mail passing around work the other day that solicited personal information about the receiver (e.g. what are your favorite television shows? what jobs did you have before this one? etc). One of the recipients of my forward later expressed surprise that I had been a minister, to which I replied that I understand ordination to be a forever kind of thing even if the church doesn’t see it that way.
In an odd sort of way I am more perplexed by what it means to be a “man of God” now than when I was in the active pastorate. Apparently I don’t give off that aura to my coworkers, which makes me wonder if it was only an outward appearance that people saw when I was in the church setting. How authentic is my discipleship? I am increasingly convinced that the answer to such a question is not to be found by adopting the stereotypical trappings of a religious person, just as I find a true answer to be increasingly elusive.
Or you could buy a giant cross necklace and harass gay people at the office. That would show that you were a minister for sure... I understand the struggle because I wake up every Sunday morning wondering why I'm not at church. It's a part of my identity I can't easily seem to drop, but every time I try to go back I feel out of place. I'm not "one of them", but I don't like how that makes me feel like I'm less than them.
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