Sharing the Joys of Ministry

“Ring, ring!”

“Hello.”

“That wasn't funny, Parson.”

“I'm sorry,” said the parson, “who is this?” The parson was smiling to himself. He knew who it was.

“That is Bart,” the voice intoned. “And you know good and well who it is.”

“Oh, Bart,” the parson said with a welcoming tone in his voice. “I didn't recognize your voice. Good to hear from you. What's up?”

“What's up? What's up? I suppose you wouldn't know anything about a woman named Florence trying to borrow money from me?”

“Florence? Florence? Wait a second. Is she about fifty, a little on the heavy side, drives a old blue Ford F-150, wearing some clothes that look like they may have last been laundered sometime around 1998? That Florence?”

“Funny, funny. Yeah, that Florence?”

“Yes, I know Florence.”

“And would you want to confess that you sent her down here to my church to ask me for twenty dollars?”

Florence had been at Ms. Parson's Soup Kitchen the night before. She needed forty dollars, she told the parson, to get the brakes fixed on her pickup truck. What Florence didn't know was that the parson knew Henry Snyder, a member of the church had given her twenty dollars toward that end about twenty minutes earlier. The parson, then, had agreed to give her twenty. Despite her protestations the parson refused to give her any additional money. Florence also didn't know that the parson knew her SSI check would arrive in two days.

“No, Bart, I will not confess that I sent her down to your church to ask for twenty dollars. But I did mention to her that I'd seen her truck down your way on several occasions. I asked her if she visited any other churches in that area to accumulate money for fixing her brakes, paying her rent, getting her pet cat fixed, or any other reoccurring events that require financial assistance. And she told me she went to a lot of churches. I asked her, since she lives a little piece form your church, if she ever visited you. She said she didn't. She said she didn't visit you because you were only there on Sunday.”

“Funny, funny, Parson,” said Bart. “According to her you said she should tell me to park my ass in the church office at 8:00 a.m. Every day.”

There was a long pause.

“Are you there, Parson?”

“I am, Bart.”

“Do you have anything to say?”

“Well, it appears your original accusation was incorrect. I didn't tell her to ask you for twenty dollars.”

“But you did make the remark about parking my ass in my office at 8:00 a.m.?”

“Well, to be honest, I may have said something like that.”

“And why is it so important to you what my office hours are.”

“It's important to me, Bart, because we're a connectional church, and, as such, you should be sharing in this ministry to Florence.”

“Good-bye, Parson.”

“Good-bye, Bart. By the way, are you calling from your office?”

Click.

Comments

[David]

So I have to ask, particularly as one who does a lot of work not from the office, whether the intent was to "sting" your colleague, produce a change in behavior (to what end?), chastise, or create some other effect.
I will own my own frustrations with a congregation that expects I sit in my office to be available, which congregation is yet unwilling to accept that I am available by phone, email, text and office, with a little notice.

[Questing Parson]

David, I don't usually respond to comments, but in this case let me say: Don't make too much of this. I wouldn't mess with "Bart" if he were not an effective pastor.