The parson was sequestered at a table in the back corner of his favorite diner. Before him was a delight of cholesterol laden delight, two eggs sunny side up, three
slices of bacon cooked to a crispness the parson liked, a generous helping of grits over which butter was slowly melting, two sausage patties, a portion of apple sauce, two pieces of toast and a cinnamon bun. The snack was complimented by a porcelain mug filled with steaming decaf, the parson's reverence to his cardiologist's wishes.
Halfway through the gastronomic endeavor he was interrupted by Phil Peiffer, who approached his table. “Morning, Parson, looks like you're hungry.”
“Not so much now, Phil,” said the parson. “Pull up a seat.”
Phil did so whereupon the parson asked, “So how's Carolyn? I have seen her or your kids in, gracious, in have been a year.”
“So, so,” said Phil.
“So, so?” asked the parson. “How am I to translate that?”
“Well, we're at a bump in the marriage, I guess, Parson. She thinks I'm neglecting her and the children because I spend too much time at the church. It's not that I'm neglecting her, but, you know, Parson, the church is demanding of our time and we can't always control the way we have to use the time. But, frankly, Carolyn seems to be punishing me by always maintaining a stand off mood.”
“I'm suppose to know how demanding your church is?” the parson asked.
“You know what I mean, Parson.”
“So, tell me, what's demanding so much time at the church?
“Well, we've got a new building program going; we're expanding our youth program; and we're looking into starting a ministry to the homeless.”
“Why does that demand so much of your time, Phil?”
“Parson, you know why.”
“Your laity aren't helping?”
“Well, yes they help, but they want to do it on their own schedule.”
The parson didn't say anything. By now he was working on the past few bites of sausage and was looking forward to sopping the plate with the half piece of toast he'd saved for the occasion. The server had discretely refilled his mug while Phil was talking.
“The do it on their own schedule?”
“Okay, here's an example. I called one of my lay people last night. I needed to him to bring me up-to-date on the building plans. He told me he needed to talk to me today because right then he was talking with his wife about what each of them had done that day and were making plans for the next day.”
“You find that a problem?” asked the parson as he devoured the last sopping and then reached for what was left in the mug.
“Of course, I do. I can't talk to him about the plans while he's at work. He needs to talk to me when he's home.”
The parson wiped his lips with his napkin. He smiled and nodded to the server to let him know he was finished. She brought his check and he handed her a bill and told her to keep the change.
“Phil,” said the parson as he rose from his seat, “I've got to go visit someone at the hospital. But I want you to think about something.”
“What's that, Parson.”
“I want you to think about what that layperson told you was the reason he couldn't talk to you last night. And then I want you to think about the fact that when he and his wife went to bed she probably wasn't in a stand off mood. That layperson, Phil, has his priorities in order.”
This is something I definitely need reminding of....often. Thanks!
Posted by: Daphne Reiley | May 24, 2011 at 01:11 AM