Captivating award winning author and nationally acclaimed speaker who is managing to remain a beach bum at heart.
Sunday, August 19, 2012
Church ... and then ME
After I left my job as a "Professional Christian", when I got paid to follow the Ten Commandments and love everybody, I really didn't want to be in charge of a Church anymore. My stint as Pastor (and I use the term loosely) had been tremendously fun and rewarding but I no longer needed or wanted to be the center of the universe for twenty minutes every Sunday morning.
Besides, I was beginning to doubt that I should be doing all of this speaking on God's behalf anyway. She created the world for God's sake and is perfectly capable of uttering Holy words from on high whenever She feels like it.
Plus the Baptists and I were having major conflicts. They would regularly fly me to Corporate Headquarters in Nashville or Atlanta so they could yell at me. It seems I had a pattern of doing things Baptists don't like ... like hiring a woman to be Associate Pastor or closing the church once each year to take everybody on a retreat (this didn't piss them off so much as did the fact that I'd hung a "Gone Fishing" sign in the front door which I thought was wickedly funny. Baptist Corporate Headquarters did not agree).
So I'd sit there and get yelled at, prayed over, admonished and then sent back on mission trip to the inner city of Louisville, mostly nobody else wanted the job. If I was in Nashville I'd leave and head straight to Printer's Alley for good live music and strip clubs. If it was Atlanta, I'd go to a Braves game and drink beer.
So it was quite miraculous when I got a phone call from Dr. Glenn Hinson telling me that the Oakhurst Baptist Church in Atlanta had lost their collective minds and was interest in calling me as their pastor. Oakhurst is by far Atlanta's best Baptist Church (though they have little competition) ... they're liberal, had lots of cool members I already knew and didn't have Sunday night services so you could stay home and watch 60 Minutes.
And it was Dr. Hinson! Everyone who ever took his classes in Seminary loves Dr. Hinson. He personifies cool which is hard to do if you are a theologian. I would skip classes I was taking to go listen to Dr. Hinson lecture in classes I wasn't taking. He's that good!
So when he called back to yell at me for not responding to the call from Oakhurst Baptist Church to be their minister, I felt bad. The Church would be better off without me but I hated disappointing Dr. Hinson. (He told me to call him Glenn but I just can't. He drips dignity.)
Then after hanging up that call, I get one from Metro Baptist Church in New York City. It's right off 42nd Street and is the epicenter of cool. I'd been several times with Bill Berry ... not the former drummer for R.E.M. but the other one who went to Seminary with me and introduced me to the world ...and loved it. A lot of Soap Oprah stars go there and there is a dorm to house students. They wanted to know if I was interested in being their pastor.
It would be awesome to live in New York. If I started to fall asleep during one my sermons, I could sneak out and catch a Broadway show. The congregation would never notice because there's always something to do in the City.
But I'd moved to Tybee Island. Let's see ... New York or Tybee? ... Tybee or New York? ... God told me to tell them no. Then I went to the beach.
But I sit here thinking of the things that might have been. Life could be so different had I said yes to either Atlanta or New York.
But I said "No" to Dr. Hinson, Oakhurst, Metro and God.
I said "Yes" to the beach.
These days when I go to Church its in a Bar. Sarah and I going this morning and playing guitar, probably praying out loud and she's singing. It's in the Bulletin so it must be true.
We'll be surrounded by tanned sinners who will either sleep off last night on the beach or head to work bar-tending or waitressing for the after-church-Sunday-crowd. Breakfast will be served as this is the only meal half the congregation will get today (Alcohol is another matter). The Hymns are set to the rhythms of a Bar Band Beat. There is an acceptance here that I don't see in other churches ... "Hey. I'm fucked up. You are too. Thanks for allowing me to be me. You're welcome as I allow you to be you."
I'll take this over what could have been.
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