Questing Parson

Life, Death, and Special People

The parson had known her close to twenty years. Long ago, when she was a single girl, working in the growing IT industry, she moved into a house seven doors from the parson's church. It was then she became a lurker.

She was a lurker but not in the lurk around the blog sense. She lurked around the parson's church. She might have attended a couple of times in the decade the parson served that parish, but, if she did, the parson couldn't remember it. Nevertheless, she was spiritual; she was a seeker; she was what the parson termed a “non-church going Christian.” She wasn't afraid to ask questions, hard questions about God and Jesus, and sometimes she asked unanswerable questions about the organized church.

It took a while for her to discover that right fellow. But he was the right fellow, the very right fellow. The parson married them at a wonderful celebration at a country retreat not far from where the parson would retire.

When the parson did retire, he didn't seem them as much. But there came that day when the call came, “We're pregnant!” There was rejoicing, anticipation, trepidation. And within months they brought their child to the country where the parson supplied the pulpit in his retirement to be baptized. There was lunch following the baptism accompanied with Ms. Parson rocking the baby in a rocker on the front porch of the restaurant, rocking him and rocking him and rocking him, cooing and smiling and, unknown to the parson then, creating a precious memory for him. A memory she too had and which she shared with the parson.

Two years later they were back. The second child was baptized. Lunch was shared again. Ms. Parson was happy to have another child to rock.

It wasn't long after the tragic call came. Her fellow, her knight in shining armor, had cancer. It was a horrible cancer. It was a devastating cancer. There was no cure. The parson and she shared flowing tears. The parson and she talked a lot about bad things happening to good people. But there was no adequate answer. “Why do these things happen?” she asked. The parson told her he didn't know.

There was hope. There was an experimental treatment he could volunteer for. He did. It wasn't the easiest treatment to be borne, but he endured it and he got better. He was better for a few years. And then it happened. Things when from bad to worse. The boys were now five and seven. Their daddy was dying.

The phone call came. The parson answered. She told the parson he was home now. Hospice had been called. The doctors said maybe it would be two weeks. She told the parson she thought it would be two days. The parson told her he'd be there the next day.

It was a beautiful spring day in the inner city of Atlanta. The youngest boy met the parson at the door. He wasn't in kindergarten that day. Her high school friend who was there to help her told the parson she'd let them know he was there. So the parson and the five-year-old played games on the floor. Then the hospice nurse came out. She talked a while. Then the oxygen technician came by. Then the contractor remodeling the basement came up. Then the ….

Finally, she came out. She told the parson they'd just given him some morphine and he was out of it. She and the parson went out on the deck, into the bright spring sun, the budding flowers, and the promise of new life. The dog accompanied them, assuring their conversations would punctuated by periodic tossing of the tennis balls which were quickly retrieved and dropped at their feet.

That conversation bounced from one thing to another, from talks of death, of her acceptance of what was coming, of the fact she'd already been grieving for years. They talked of funny things that had happened back when she lurked around the parson's parish. They talked about the children and the counseling they'd been put into to prepare them for what was coming. They laughed about children, and Christians, and the absurdity of it all, of the wedding when the parson danced a jig with her eighty-year-old grandmother.

Four hours later the parson left. He headed home, knowing he'd retrace his steps soon to return and talk some more, if she wanted; but to be there because he wanted. Navigating through the traffic the parson thought of how she was so typical of the new Christians. Church membership is secondary to faith. She is full of faith; she is well-acquainted with God. The parson remembered how when she and her fellow, having not seen the parson for a year or so, were there when Ms. Parson died, being pastors to their pastor.

She'll lose her fellow soon. The parson is experienced with what that will feel like. She'll go on, probably facing it much better than did the parson. And maybe that's the miracle of it all: even in the shadow of death life goes on.

Krista Tippett Interviews Rosanne Cash

There's a 7 second delay before the audio kicks in.

In the Room with Rosanne Cash (live stream version) from On Being on Vimeo.

Two Minutes of Wisdom With Father James Martin

Enjoy the wisdom, and apologies for the commercial.

 

Krista Tippett With Rabbi David Hartman

Below is the unedited interview Krista Tippett conducted with Rabbi David Hartman, in which he confronts God in the modern world, and the deepest meaning of the Jewish state as a sacred obligation. The interview aired on "On Being" on American Public Media / National Public Radio.

 

In the Room with David Hartman from On Being on Vimeo.

Among the Redeemed

The parson was enjoying himself. Away from his parish, he'd spent the last few days enjoying the performances of some of the country's best dance companies at The American Dance Festival in Durham, North Carolina. Now he stood in a private room of a local bar and restaurant across the plaza from the performing arts center. The dancers of the company were talking about their performances, laughing at a couple of slips the audience had no idea occurred and debating the order of the various pieces. One in particular felt one piece needed to be separated from another because of the physical demands of each.

The parson listened fascinated with this world of which he was but an onlooker. The agility and poise, the polish and presence of these world renowned dancers captivated him. He listened intently to everything they were saying, with only an occasional break to sample the vast assortment of food on the tables.

His captivation was interrupted by a woman in her fifties. “So,” she said, “I'm told you're the father of one of the dance directors and you're a pastor.”

“I am,” said the parson.

He told the woman his name and asked her's. She told him, and then she began her assault.

“Don't you think it a bit weird to be hanging out in a place like this with all the booze flowing and being a pastor?”

“No,” said the parson. “I don't.”

“Why not?”

“I like to be around interesting people.”

“Isn't that amusing,” she said. “You don't find your church people amusing?”

“Not tonight,” said the parson. “They're most likely all in bed. So, you folks are all I have to hang out with.”

“You don't mind hanging out with the unredeemed?”

“Is that what I'm doing?”

She stared at him a minute then replied. “Well, look around you.”

The parson looked around. “What am I suppose to be seeing?”

“You're seeing the sinners; that's what you're seeing. You do notice everyone is drinking?”

“That's your definition of sin? Drinking?”

“Well, you damn well know that all these people aren't going to be in church Sunday.”

“That's your definition of sin? Not going to church?”

“Well, what's your definition?”

“Anything that separates you from your relationship with God.”

“You think I have a relationship with God?”

“I don't know. Do you?”

“We're talking about the people in this room not being religious. We're not talking about my relationship with God.”

“Sure we are.”

“No we're not.”

“Look,” said the parson. “You walked across a room filled with people who are celebrities, who are accomplished in their art. Everyone of them is much more interesting than I. And you brought up sin; you brought up the church. I was just enjoying my drink and the company I'm in. Matter of fact, I confess to you I was enjoying not being around church folks. But, if you want to talk about your relationship with God, we can do that.”

She stared at him in a stern manner. Then, without a word, she turned and walked away.

Can Good Be Evil?

Ring! Ring

“Hello.”

“Hello, Parson, this is Vickie.”

“Hi, Vickie, how in the world are you doing. I haven't heard your voice for a long, long time.”

“I know, Parson. I'm sorry. I told you I'd keep in touch but when we got here and there was a new school and a new church and new friends, and I had to get used to everything … I'm really sorry, Parson. I really did mean to call and keep in touch, but I just didn't. I'm sorry.”

“Oh, Vickie, you don't have to be sorry. I understand more than you know. Tell me, how's the new neighborhood?”

Vickie had attended the parson's church, but her father had been transferred to another city by his company. The parson had transferred their membership within weeks of their arrival in the new community. Vickie's family was not the type to not attend church.

“Oh, it's actually really nice. At first I didn't like it. I missed all my friends, but, just like you told me, I've got new friends here. Hey, Parson, how's Veronica doing?”

“She's doing really good, Vickie. She got an award for academic achievement and I think she place pretty high in the state track championships.”

“That's great. I guess I should call her, too.

“Is she a friend on Facebook?” asked the parson.

“Yeah, she is,” said Vickie.

“Well, why don't you just leave her a message on Facebook. That might be easier.”

“You're right, Parson. I'll do that tonight.”

There was a pregnant pause. Then, Vickie continued.

“Parson, I called you because I needed to ask you about something I said. I need to know if I'm right.”

“What's that?” asked the parson.

“Okay, here's the thing. When the news came on about the tornadoes hitting where you live, I told some of my classmates I used to live there.”

“One kid in the class said that he guessed the people up there really sinned in order for that tornado to kill so many people.”

“I'm sorry to hear that, Vickie,” said the parson.

“Yeah, well, Parson, what I need to know is whether I'm right or not. I told him that God is good and because God is good then God cannot do an evil thing.”

Another pause followed. The parson contributed to it as he remembered Vickie was only thirteen.

“So, Parson, am I right?”

“You're right, Vickie,” said the parson. “You are absolutely right!

Doubt / Believe

Doubting Easter from Igniter Media on Vimeo.

About the Baby's Baptism

“Got a minute, Parson?” called Frank McQuire, an insurance agent in the town who occasionally engaged the parson in theological debates.

The parson stopped at the door of the courthouse and turned to answer Frank. “Sure,” said the parson. “Since you're the big politician it would have been nice if you'd seen me before I paid the taxes.”

“I think if you check the scriptures, Parson, you'll find Jesus did something about death, but he wasn't too successful with overcoming taxes.”

“You have a point, Frank. How's the family?”

“Everyone's doing good, Parson. In fact, Janet wanted me to ask you if you'd baptize the new grandchild.”

“Janet? She's your youngest?”

“She is. The baby was born back in December. They were over at lunch last Saturday. The wife mentioned they should baptize the baby. So Janet said she'd like for you to do it.”

The parson's mind immediately went back to a difference of opinion between him and a church superior. The superior insisted the only reason for baptism was the path to church membership. The parson insisted baptism was a sacrament and nowhere in his denomination's infant baptism parental vows was there a mention of membership. The parson insisted a Sacrament was something God did and it therefore could not be denied anyone. He recognized his conservative stance, but found it satisfying that one a few things he wasn't the liberal everyone insisted he was.

“Where does Janet go to church?” the parson asked.

“Ah, she and Ed don't go to church, Parson. You know as well as I do that Janet is a Christian and as moral as they come, but they don't have an affiliation with any specific church.”

“Which churches does Janet visit?” the parson asked.

“Parson, Janet doesn't go to church.”


“Tell you what,” said the parson. “You have Janet call me and we'll talk about it. But she has to call me and not relay messages through you.”

“Fair enough,” said Frank. “She'll call you.”

The parson headed to the car. He knew he was going to baptize the baby, but he was going to make Janet squirm a bit.

End Time Reward

It was one of those times. The parson had picked the wrong place to sit. The round table was in a corner. The parson somehow had been maneuvered into taking the seat that put his back in the corner. As the table filled with others the chairs to the parson's left and his right prohibited an easy escape.

Escape the parson desired. The table was in the cafeteria of a large urban hospital. The parson had been a participant in a seminar on pastoral care. After the seminar session the parson and two others had taken advantage of the time to share a light meal and some conversation. In a short time three others, who had been participants in the seminar invited themselves to the table.

The parson admired the dedication of the three who'd joined. They worked tirelessly in with their congregations. Each was hard working and served as pastors of growing congregations. The parson did feel himself a bit alienated from their theology.

Five minutes after they settled themselves in their seats the parson's unease rose. “We're all excited about the signs we see all about us,” said Rex Dillard, the obvious leader to the trio. “Everything points to the imminent return of our Lord.”

“Oh, good gracious,” interjected Marvin Peppers, who'd been sitting with the parson when the three arrived. “Don't start with that end time stuff, Rex.”

“Well, the end time is up to Jesus,” said Rex, “but a careful reading of the scripture gives us good evidence that Jesus will be returning in the near future and following that return will be the end.”

“Where in the world do you find this ….”

Marvin was interrupted by Sid Whitney, the other pastor who'd been sitting with the parson. “Don't ask him where he finds it; he's got a Bible with him.”

“Well, it might be of benefit to you if you'd study the Word,” responded Henry Harrision who was with Rex. “If you study it as have Rex and Sam (he pointed to the third of the trio who'd joined the parson's party) and I you wouldn't be so dismissive of the immediate return of Jesus.”

This provoked a response from Marvin who was ready to do battle with Rex. Sid leaned forward in anticipation of needing to assist Marvin. The parson leaned back in his chair until his back was wedged against the two walls that formed the corner that trapped him.

The argument went on for twenty minutes. Occasionally, Marvin had invited the others to tone down the volume as people were looking. The parson continued to lean back, sip his decaf, and watch in fascination. Sid had now become red in the face and Rex was holding his Bible lovingly against his chest.

Rex, sitting directly in front of the parson, finally said, “You haven't joined in on the debate, Parson.”

The parson leaned forward in the chair bringing its front legs back to the floor. He then leaned a bit across the table and looked at Rex. “Tell me, Rex, honestly, do you really believe that Jesus will return before the summer's up?”

“I believe that with all my heart,” said Rex.

“In that case,” said the parson, “can I have your BMW?”

An Honest Doubt

The parson entered the well known chain restaurant with the breakfast buffet bar. There were gathered the clergy of the parson's area and denomination to share stories of their local parishes, some of which were not too exaggerated. The parson on seeing the assembled brothers and sisters at three tables pulled together in the corner noted they'd already begun to eat.

He headed to the buffet bar and began to load his plate with an immpressive assortment of cholesterol laden goodies. But being the nutritional advocate he is, he balanced his selection with a variety of fruits. He headed to the appointed area and greeted his colleagues. They, in turn, greeted him but immediately went back to their conversation.

“The thing is,” said Will Adams, the pastor of a three to four hundred member congregation, “despite all this he's one of the best and hardest working lay person I've ever come across.”

“Nevertheless,” said Sara McChuchenson, the associate pastor at one of the county seat churches, “you must be careful because he could upset the apple cart, so to speak.”

“Maybe you could just sit him down and talke with him,” suggested Ralph Turner, the pastor of a two point circuit.

Will turned to the parson, “Maybe we should get your opinion, Parson. You've got the most experience of anyone at the table.”

“What's the situation?” asked the parson as he forked a slice of country biscuit laden with country gravy into which the “chef” had crumbled some crisp sausage.

“Okay, here's the story,” said Will. “I have this relatively new member in the church. He's a terrific leader. He's organized some effective outreach to our inactive members; he's revitalized the youth group.”

“Run him off immediately,” the parson said. “But be sure and give him directions to our church.”

“Funny, Parson,” Will responded, “but seriously while this fellow's been working like nothing could stop him, he's got doubts. On several occasions in conversations with me or with me and some others he's expressed doubts about his faith and even dxpressed doubts about things like the virgin birth; he's raised issues of Paul's influence in the earlhy church effecting the direction of the church, possibly away from Jesus' core teachings. Just all in all, while he's a good leader he just seems to be filled with doubts.”

The parson was gobbling down the last of his breakfast by the time Will had concluded his litany.

“So, Parson, what's your take.”

The parson took a swig of his decaf. He looked around the table and then at Will. “What I think is you should never doubt doubt.”