It was again in the days of my professional Christianity where I got paid for trying to live like God would like while I asked that everyone else do it for free. Working for Baptist Corporate Headquarters we had to take a lot of tests, specially the Myers-Briggs Personality Indicator. We were told that we would learn how we perceive the world and how we make decisions. What they were really trying to do was weed out gays, pacifists, liberals and increasingly women.
I was on another forced retreat in some park in Kentucky and we all had to take the Myers-Briggs test and write a paper about something we were passionate about. Then while we all took break a Christian psychologist reviewed our things and was going to report back to us during the evening session. I used the break as an opportunity to run to the liquor store (and actually ran into several of my fellow retreat mates there).
Later the Christian psychologist told each of us about ourselves. When she got to me she just stopped and put her hands on her hips with my profile page in one hand. “And then there is you,” she began.
“You are the first person whom I’ve ever encountered who scored dead center of the Myers-Briggs test. I suppose you can swing in any direction. You can be an introvert or an extrovert. You can both think and feel. Sense and intuit.”
I sat up a little straighter in my chair feeling quite proud of myself. I sensed all my other professional Christian retreat mates were in awe. I started to think that it was time to ask for a raise.
“Then I read what you wrote about you. You certainly have a lot of passion!”
Oh yeah, I’m thinking. Big raise!
“In the end, you are Robin Hood. You prefer the fringes but are quite comfortable sitting in the seats of power. You don’t mind hiding out in the woods with your friends or strolling down the aisle of the Cathedral in the middle of a service because you have something to say. You do not like to be pigeon holed. You do not take orders well. Everybody loves you anyway. You really don’t have the right personality of a minister.”
Shit! I thought. There goes the raise!
All of my fellow professional Christians were looking at the floor or the ceiling; at anything other than me! I think that I remember one took a drink.
So began the ending of my days as a professional Christian.
I was maybe 26 or 27 when that happened but I remember it vividly. The Christian psychologist wore a red dress when she nailed me. Isn’t that funny?
Ever since then I’ve been a big fan of Robin Hood. I watched the latest version on the plane to St. Martin a few weeks ago; the version with Russell Crowe. And I cried as I did. He was helping my people! The hurt, the lonely, the addict…the widow, the orphan and the sojourner.
A few weeks ago I was talking to a former Board member at Union Mission. Of course anytime you leave somewhere you are the blame for anything that ever went wrong until they reach a point where they can’t possibly blame you anymore because you weren’t around when it happened!
After a bit of listening to things that I didn’t do especially well I snipped, “Well you know when you’re Robin Hood it’s kind of hard to play by the rules!”
There were long moments of silence before he finally said, “I have nothing to say to that. I completely understand.”
So I’ve been hanging out in the woods of Sherwood Forrest for several months, healing from the wounds of my battles and contemplating the next attacks. Though I must admit that I really keep wishing Maid Marian would drop by at night. I am proud of the things that I have done and wouldn’t change any of them.
Other people would change them but that is not my problem.
So this morning at the Breakfast Club a dear friend of mine had tears in her eyes. She gave me a big hug and because we were in front of others I just hugged her back and didn’t say anything. I would never embarrass her. So when I left, she walked out with me. She burst into tears and told me everything and I just hugged her told her that everything would be alright. That is what I’ve always done.
And I sit here now staring at Fran’s thousand shades of green, thinking to myself.
It’s time to leave this friggin forest!
