The District Task Force on Reducing the Number of Required
Meetings was meeting. The parson having
attended a smidgen over 7,000 meetings in the course of his career was
participating with a degree of amusement. As such he didn’t say much. But he listened.
In the course of the listening the parson was drawn to a new
pastor. He remembered her being ordained two years previous. He had been struck
by the enormity of the event for her, evidenced by her almost uncontrollable
sobbing when the bishop laid his hands on her head.
Erin Swanson, was in her early thirties. All her life she
had wanted to become an ordained minister. Every course she took in college was
seen as a pathway to ordination. Seminary became a rite of passage for her. And
on the day she heard her name called out to serve her first appointment, all of
her struggles had come to fruition.
The parson watched her during the course of the meeting.
Every time a date was suggested where the committee could gather for some
purpose, she quickly consulted her iPhone calendar and then reported on her availability.
Working out a schedule with the Energizer Bunny in the room became a challenge
for the other participants. The entire meeting, for the parson, became a
variety show staring Erin and her calendar. And during the lunch break the
parson had overheard her conversation with another female pastor about the lack
of a social life.
When the meeting had adjourned, with the promise that the
Task Force on Reducing the Number of
Retired Meetings would meet again, the parson found an opportunity to speak to
Erin outside the church.
“So how are things with you these days, Erin?” he asked.
“Wonderful, Parson,” she responded with a smile.
“When’s the last time you had a date?” the parson asked.
“Excuse me?”
“I’m an old man, Erin, with more years in this church than
you have yet to live. So, indulge me. When’s the last time you had a date?”
She looked up toward the sky and replied in a soft voice, “I
guess it was the last year of seminary.”
“Nobody has asked you out on a date in two years?”
“Well, Parson, it’s not that. It’s just that there is so
much to do at the church. I really don’t have time for a romantic relationship
right now.”
“Sure you do.”
“I don’t, Parson,” said Erin, looking toward the ground. “When
I gave my life to Christ and answered the call to ministry, I had no idea how
demanding the job is.”
“How demanding is it?”
“What? Parson, are you kidding me?”
“No, Erin, I’m not. Actually, I’m making fun of you.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Tell you what, Erin. My son has this friend who’s single.
He’s a Christian businessman whose very successful. And I doubt very seriously
he is intimidated by a female pastor, because his mother’s one. How about I set
you up on a blind date; just to let you get away from the parish for one
evening?”
Erin looked at the parson intently for a moment, “I don’t
know, Parson. I don’t know if I have an evening I could spare for a date.”
“Okay, Erin,” replied the parson. “I won’t hound you about
it. But if you change your mind just let me know.”
“I’ll do that,” she smiled. They both turned to walk to
their respective cars.
Halfway to his car the parson turned and yelled out, “Erin,
when was that church of yours founded?”
“1842,” she called back. “But it was a tabernacle then.”
“1842,” the parson echoed. “OMG,” he continued in a mocking
tone while seeming to count on his fingers, “can you believe that church
existed for a 166 years without you fretting over every detail of its life?”
Erin stopped in her tracks and stared at the parson. She
seemed to be weighing things. She smiled and called out, “I’ll think about it,
Parson. I’ll think about it. But you should tell him I’m an expensive date.”
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