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11 de Septiembre 2008
come pick me up
martin keeps playing that song over and over again. he pulls the car over to the side of the street, leans over and not only unlocks the door,
but pushes it hard so it swings open
like the door is an extension of his arms flung open to welcome me in one wild gesture
he picks me up from church history class (which is messing with my heart and my head in the way that sexual disorders messes with the counseling students--they should just call the class church disorders, but ATS won't go for that) and "I wish you would" is playing in the background like cathedral bells marking the noon hour. the bells beg me to look backward, look forward. faith, hope, ding, dong, faith, hope, past, future, dong, dong, dong, and then do it again.
when they ask me what i'm taking this, my third year at seminary i should say Church Disorders, How Not to Hate and Integrating Responsible Parties... Theology One hasn't begun yet so i'm not sure what to call that (mhgs calls it "Theological Mosaic" but somehow i'm already wondering if it should have another name based on the syllabus alone) this year begins with lessons about hate, integrated pastoral personalities, and sharing responsibilities. i think i can explain:
the new vicar asked if i have days off. i said i think of the day off as a day when its ok to accidentally swear (insert canned laughter from other staff members present) or show a bra strap, or wear my painting pants.
she asked about book club. i said that is technically off because i tend to swear there.
it has come to my attention, though, that some (most?) pastors--especially children's ministers--have two personalities. and i don't think i could handle that.
here is how it works: we start out thinking that we should behave a certain way. then one day we don't like it anymore so we address some close friends, who may be parishioners. we ask them to stop thinking of us as pastors in certain context. so they attempt to do so.
here is where it gets interesting:
sometimes, as a pastor, I think that this system breaks down because these parishioners who are also good friends, are incapable of seeing beyond the clerics and it is their fault. as if the parishioners are two dimensional people who simply can't imagine their pastor as other than preacher, communicant, marrier, burrier (barrier--hmmm), baptizer. but what if its the pastor, what if we can't stop acting like their idea of pastor? it is just as much about how the pastor acts as how they perceive her.
if you trick your parishioners into thinking you simply gave up swearing, drinking, smoking, brutal honesty, arguing, overeating, burning the toast or any other vice the day you were ordained then of course they will either see through you and mistrust you. or they will think you betrayed them when they come over and see that case of pbr in the fridge.
let's be honest: i took this job because there was swearing in the narthex on my second visit, and i wasn't the one doing it!
so then i started thinking about perfectionism, especially because i received marks that would make any olympian proud
in old testament and philosophy but practically failed my exegesis paper.
there is this person i stopped hating, no, it isn't mccain (i still hate him). it is this person, let's call him rico, even my husband has a man crush on--martin reads Details now because it is delivered to the seminary free (chalk one up for the gay infiltrators). and i thought maybe it was the bucket of Sessions or the end of the week of intensive classes with dr. craig barnes, a man who could accidentally turn anyone into a nicer person. but i'm thinking maybe all this time i hated rico because he was always trying so hard to be perfect, to be all things to all people, and that afternoon i stopped hating him so much because he seemed a little less interested, if even for a moment, in being mr. right. maybe it was the way he was leaning, or the words he said or the way he said them... i don't know.
i thought, at first that i was becoming nicer (as unlikely as that is). now i think it was just as much about his behavior as mine.
maybe this next part should be another entry entirely but i just don't have that kind of compartmentalization going just yet so it is here:
at text study we read matt 9.9-13. nevermind all the normal exegesis--the lead pastor remarked that the part he can't get over is that matthew just takes off after Jesus. in response i waited for a lull in the conversation and then i spouted off my own theory which was mostly like this:
"what if (it may be poor exegetical method but, honestly, i always start that way)
jesus was walking by matt's office one day, and frustrated by a lack of sleep or whatever, he walks into the office and tells matt something like, hey, come outside with me, i have to show you something, and then once they get outside jesus says follow me, and matt's interest is piqued because jesus takes off in the direction of matt's own house. so matt starts thinking one of his kids is suddenly ill, or the house is on fire. when they arrive at matt's house jesus says something like, hey do you have anything to eat? and matt looks at his watch and realizes he isn't going to make it back to the office today, or maybe ever. so they sit down and have a few beers and chat. and come on, even matthew would probably be disinterested in collecting taxes after a few beers with jesus, right?"
so by this time all the pastors sitting around are howling with laughter and one shrieks about what they must be teaching me at that crazy mars hill. and i admit to just barely passing my first exegesis, class and avoiding theology classes like the plague. but then the laughter dies down a bit and the lead pastor, who is one of my favorite people in the whole world--through no fault of his own-- says "well, that is probably more accurate than the way i imagined it."
don't get me wrong, he is a complex man. hopefully, by now you know that i tend to represent people in my stories as boobs at times, even if they aren't.
but, all i really mean to say is that that felt pretty damn good.
yes, it felt pretty damn good.
screw all my friends, they're all full of shit.
i wish you would...
i wish i could.
so i'm that much closer to the commencement,
i have big plans to
cower in fear
in my favorite sweater
all the old love letters fresh in my mind.
with the windows clear
you know you could
i wish you would.
help yourself , just in case | By crymytinyflood | 10:18 AM
