The parson was sitting in a visitors area on an upper floor of a big city hospital. He sat reading his Kindle as he waited for a chaplain friend to come from a meeting with some doctors. He and his friend had agreed to have lunch after the parson came to visit with a church member’s relative having surgery.
A man came into the area and sat on a small sofa opposite the chair where the parson sat reading. The parson studied the man. He was dressed in an expensive pair of slacks, a polo shirt, and loafers without socks. The parson smiled quietly as he studied the man.
“I take it you’re feeling better,” said the parson.
“I beg your pardon?” the man said.
“I take it you’re feeling better. When I saw you a half hour ago you were in a hospital gown and looking really impatient laying in the bed. Room 417, isn’t it?”
“Okay, okay,” said the man. “I’m caught. Look, I just wanted to get out of that room for a while. I’m feeling okay, but I’m having to hang around here until they come to some conclusions about the tests I’ve been given. I may end up having surgery, but I’m not in any immediate danger.”
“You are going back to the room?”
“Oh, yes, I just wanted to get by the nurses’ station without any hassle.” He held up a book. “I’m going to read a few chapters sitting here in some clothes without having to worry about by butt being visible to the whole world.”
“I guess your secret’s safe with me,” the parson said.
“Thanks,” was the reply. And then he opened his book to begin reading. Before he did he asked, “You on the staff here?”
“Oh, no,” said the parson. “I’m a pastor. Actually, I was visiting someone across the hall from your room. That’s how I recognized you. I’m waiting to meet the chaplain for lunch.”
He asked the parson about what church he was part of. The parson told him and was engaged in a questioning time about the parson’s church position on certain issues, its history and beliefs. The conversation led to the parson asking, “What church do you attend?”
“Oh, I don’t, sir. I’m an atheist.”
“Well, you seem to know a lot about the church for an atheist.”
“I have to attend from time to time,” he said. “I didn’t inherit my beliefs from my mother. Ever so often I take Mom to church. Actually, the pastor there is a decent sort. He’s a bit too religious right over the edge, I think, but he seems nice enough.”
The conversation continued for a good twenty minutes or more. It was one of those times when two people from opposite ends of the spectrum talked without incriminations. Each seemed interested in the other’s views. Toward the end the talk turned to the tests that were being run, his ailment, and finally his fears.
The parson saw a group coming out of a conference room down the hall. One of the group was the chaplain.
The parson leaned forward. “Jeff, my friend’s coming. I’ll have to go. Would you let me say a prayer for you.”
“But I don’t believe in that stuff, pastor.”
“That’s okay, Jeff. I do.”
Jeff reached out his hand to take the parson’s and bowed his head as he did.
Amen.
Posted by: Wayne | April 23, 2009 at 09:22 AM
Thank you!
Posted by: April | April 27, 2009 at 10:43 AM