
I never mind these trips. The hospital is run by the Seventh Day Adventist Church, and I try to maintain a good friendship with the Chaplain. He doesn’t play golf. That means when I want to go out of town, there’s a pastor down the street who has nothing to do on Sunday.
Pulling into the hospital parking lot I headed for the first spot available, which just happened to be one of those “Reserved for Clergy” spaces. “Oh, they’ve got a new sign,” I noted to myself halfway into the space. Then I noticed the new signs were different. It no longer said “Reserved for Clergy.” Now it read: “Reserved for Clergy with Proper Permit.”
I thought, when I retired to this country town things would be different. They’re not. The traffic followed me here. The prices are not lower. The churches have the same basic problems. And now the rural little hospital has big city signs of “Reserved for Clergy with Proper Permit.” God help us all.
I stopped by the Chaplain’s office and knocked on the door. I needed to invite him to participate in a community event. He opened the door and greeted me with his usual infectious smile. He had someone with him. I told him I’d drop back later. “Wait,” he said, “let me give you one of the new parking permits.” He reached into a box. “Let me give you two in case you’re ever driving the wife’s car.”
We talked a minute. I slipped the permits into my coat pocket. Then, I was off to the ICU Unit.
Leaving the hospital I walked to my car. I paused before getting in and looked around. Curious, I walked back to the hospital entrance counting my paces as I did. From the hospital entrance I walked to the “Reserved for Clergy with Proper Permit” spaces. It’s was around two dozen paces more to my car where it was parked than to the “reserved” spaces.
Okay, let’s think this through. On my last visit to the facility there were the simple, “Reserved for Clergy” signs in four or five spots. For the hospital to change the signs to “Reserved for Clergy with Proper Permit,” means someone had to complain that another was in the space and wasn’t a real bona fide “pastor.”
I need to quiz my friend the Chaplain. Who decided another was not properly credentialed to park in a “Reserved for Clergy” space? Let me be less than politically correct. Who decided he was a real pastor and another was not? And, if some non-credentialed person parked there, what’s the big deal. I’ve been here now three years. That parking lot has never been full.
A couple of questions, and then I’ll quit before this turns into a rant. Why do pastors want reserved parking spaces anyway? Is there not supposed to be some hint of servanthood attached to this calling?
Do these signs not, in reality, say “Reserved for really, really, special people.”
Do you suppose the Pharisees had a reserved hitching post for their asses right outside the temple?
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