Questing Parson

Discovering God's Secrets

She was eleven, maybe twelve. The parson was taking part in a seminar of preachers. She was reluctantly a part of the occasion also, as her aunt was a participant in the event. Being young, energetic and captive in a room full of young adults and middle-aged pastors was similar to being old, non-energetic, retired and coerced to attend. And so she and the parson, unknown to each other until this day, became cousins of circumstance and siblings of boredom.

There was a slight chill on the porch of the host church where they sat, but the sun was shining bright. Here aunt, after checking that she was okay and that the parson did not mind her niece's presence, promised to be back in a short while. She disappeared into the church to complete some duty.

The parson took a small Peppermint Pattie from the bag he was holding and offered one to her. She hesitated for a moment and then proclaimed, “Yes, thanks.” Carefully she unwrapped it. She bit down and obviously enjoyed the treat. Finished she looked about for a moment. “Here, you can put it in here,” the parson suggested. She deposited the wrapper in the bag he held out.

“So are you one of the pastors in there?” she asked.

“I am,” the parson acknowledged. “And how long have you been a pastor?”

She jerked her head around to look him directly in the eye. She smiled. “You're teasing me,” she said in a tone that reflected an appreciation for humor. “I'm not a pastor. My aunt is though.”

“Is she Methodist? Baptist?”

“She's a Presbyterian pastor. My older sister is going to be a priest,” she informed me.

“A priest?”

“Yes, an Episcopal priest.”

“Sounds like pastors run in your family.” She smiled but didn't respond. “You're the big holdout, I guess.”

“I guess I am. I'm going to be a scientist. I'm not sure what kind, but I know if I am a scientist I'll be able to learn about all the mysteries of the universe. Have you ever seen pictures of the universe?”

“I have, actually,” he said. “It's pretty impressive.”

“I know. And if I'm a scientist I can learn all about where the universe came from and where it's going. You know the universe is expanding, don't you?”

“I'v heard that,” the parson replied. “Discovering the secrets of the universe will take a lot of study and research.”

“I know.” She paused a few seconds and in a quiet voice that reflected wonder. “But I know it's going to be worth it. Just think. Here we are talking on the porch of this church. We are just little specks on another little speck in a creation that's so, so, so big. It's wonderful.”

“How about God? Do you think in your studies you'll discover God?”

“I don't think so,” she said. “You can't discover God. But there are all kinds of secrets that God has we can discover. I mean, like, the universe is expanding. Scientists discovered that. Who knows what we'll find next.”

Music began playing inside. The parson said. “I guess the program's starting again. I need to go inside.”

Her aunt turned the corner, “Come on, Honey; it's time to go in.”

“Bye,” said the parson, “I hope you discover lots of secrets.”

 

The Mystery of the Place

 The sun lost its struggle to break through the clouds and prepared to dip below the horizon. And yet the effort painted the clouds with a strange orange hue. 

The parson pulled his car into the left hand lane close to the curb as he stopped beside the mailbox. Lowering the window he reached out to retrieve the day’s mail. Charlie Brown, his faithful canine companion, roused himself on the back seat and awaited the next stop. 

Parking the car, the parson stepped out, opened the rear door and headed inside. Quickly he sorted the mail, checked for messages, made a couple of notes on things to do, and then quickly prepared to leave again.

On impulse the parson sat himself down, leaned his head back, closed his eyes, exhaled deeply and expelled his breath as he felt his fatigue. He looked around, taking in the details for the thousandth time. Outside the sun slipped down beneath the horizon and the light began to fail. Where the parson sat fading light enveloped in an aura of peace.

The took in the space again. There was something about it, a quietness, a stillness, and a mystery. The parson breathed deeply as though to inhale the essence of the room. He rose from his seat and moved to the door.

Outside Charlie Brown sat beside the car in anticipation of another ride. The parson opened the read door. Charlie Brown jumped in and with an audible grunt lowered himself to lay upon the seat. The parson moved behind the wheel. He cranked the car and reached for the gear shift.

He stopped and stared at the door from which he’d just exited. He remembered the sermons preached inside, the congregation that surprised him with their accomplishments and frustrated him to distraction with the limits of their faith. He thought of the frustrations the weekly appearance in that room brought him, the sermons needing more than he’d delivered, the people barely listening, the complaints that Aunt Mandy’s favorite hymn had not been sung in months. The room was symbolic of all that confronted a pastor.

The parson marveled at the mystery of sanctuaries and the hold they had always had on his life, from the chapel at the youth camp in his high school years, to the balcony pew of his home church in his teenage years, to the front pews in the years of his discovery, and distinctive mystery of each sanctuary whose walls had absorbed his words. 

The parson had left his fatigue inside. Now he drove away with a lighter demeanor, marveling at the healing power of sanctuaries, especially empty ones.

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