The Important Church

The parson was making a few phone calls to encourage local pastors to support a missionary from the area. Near the end of his calling, he made contact with James Varnell, the pastor of a small but extremely active and slowly growing congregation.

“I hope you can get your folks to consider letting one of us come and talk about supporting this mission, James,” the parson concluded.

“I'll talk to them. That's a promise,” said James.

“I'm grateful, James. Really grateful.”

Parson,” interjected James, “I'm glad you called. I've been meaning to talk with you anyway.”

“You've got me now, James,” said the parson. “Go ahead.”

“Have you heard anything about open appointments this coming conference?” asked James.

“I haven't, James,” said the parson. “The days of my paying attention to those kind of things are over. Why do you ask?”

“Well, Parson, I can't help but want to move beyond where I am. I mean, this is a nice congregation, but I think my talents could be better used at a larger church.”

“Define 'larger',” said the parson.

“Well, I guess I'm talking about a church of, well, maybe, two thousand to twenty-five hundred members.”

The parson thought a moment. Then he asked, “How many churches that size do you think there are in this episcopal area?” the parson asked.

“I don't know, a couple dozed, I would imagine.”

“You know, James,” the parson said, “there are a thousand churches in our conference and there are fifteen hundred clergy. Now, you should think about the fact that of those fifteen hundred clergy fourteen hundred and ninety-two think they, too, should be in that mega church you want to serve. So, your odds are a bit narrow.”

“Nevertheless, Parson,” James began, but the parson interrupted.

“James, do you mind if I tell you a quick story?”

“I guess not,” said James.

“Way back in the last century,” the parson began. “I was a young upstart pastor. I wasn't familiar with all the protocols of the church. I certainly wasn't on speaking terms with bishops. So, we were having this special effort at our little church. Now, note I said 'little',” the parson emphasized. “I wrote the bishop and invited him to speak at the church's event.”

The parson continued. “Now, you'd think the worst thing that bishop could have said to me was 'no.' But it wasn't. He wrote me back and said, 'I give one Sunday a year to each district in the conference. On that Sunday I go to the most important church.' Well, like I said, James, I was young and not particular tactful back then. I wrote that bishop back. I wrote him back and said, 'Dear Bishop, wherever you appoint me is the most important church in your episcopal area. We look forward to having you visit us.'”

“Did he come?” asked James.

“The parson smiled at the memory. “Actually, he did, James. He did, and I think he enjoyed himself. But that's not the point of the story, James.”

“The point is?”

“I hope you'll come to see the church where you now serve as that important.”

Comments

[Wy Dave]

Reminded of the Bill Mauldin WWII cartoon of a soldier in an Italian foxhole reading about the Normandy invasion and observing to his buddy that: "The hell this ain't the most important hole in the world. I'm in it."