The South is full of nice pastors and nice churches. It surprised me when I first came here. There was a nice church that I went to my first Sunday in college. The ladies there offered to give me a ride from campus every week if I wanted it, then passed my name over to a church where they thought I would fit better. I wore a head-covering and they were kind of over that at their church. The new church called, sent someone to pick me up, doted on me during the service and treated me to lunch at a members home that afternoon. The nice old ladies also told me to be safe when I went home for Christmas because I wouldn't want any of the Arab terrorists getting me. It was my last Sunday there.
Then there was a nice church that I went to for over a year. There were nice young couples who were leading the small group--until the pastors found out their marriage was in serious trouble. Then one of the pastors took over the small group with his wife in their nice and very big house. I was pretty happy with the church until the day that one pastor mentioned in passing that many women consider themselves abused when they really haven't been and it shouldn't be a cause of divorce among Christians. He said it nicely. He was also nice enough to sit down with me and talk about my concerns with his statement afterwards. He explained that it was verbal abuse he had been referring to. Physical abuse would be cause for separation. I never quite trusted him afterward. Yet surprisingly it was the same pastor who gave me the measure by which I have evaluated others since. "Never follow a man's teaching until you can see into his life." He was talking about the danger of idolizing television preachers and such not.
I turned it around on him instead. I couldn't see into his life at all. It was, as many leaders lives are, opaque. You have to take the man at his image and his word. You receive charisma. You are persuaded. His wife is perfect. His kids are good. They are always dressed for the cameras. And you never get to know them at all. Pastors often perfect a combination of hospitality and isolation. Everyone comes over and no one sees them as they are. Our family managed it. I know the job from the inside. It's why I can spot it every time.
The next time I picked a church, I picked the one I am in now. It leaders are....not perfect. One of them would be more at home as the head of a construction crew. It's what he did for years and he acts like it. He's brusque, not nice. If you go to him crying, he'll probably tell an awkward joke with a little hopeful half laugh and grin. Like salt, very salty. But he'll help you out with anything you need too: a pick up truck, a couch to sleep on for the night, a visit to the hospital. You can count on him, just don't count on him for soft words. Another pastor when I started attending was the head of an outdoor leadership program. If there is ever a pastor I have butted heads with, it was him. But he was a pastor I could have a fair fight with. There aren't many of those. He moved on to Kentucky and it made me sad. We had another pastor who was an avid Rolling Stones fan and would quote some piece of classic rock, something from 80s TV and some quircky piece of pop psychotherapy in every sermon. Not to criticize it--no, he believed in it. He really believed in old rock, 80s pop, and Freudian psychotherapy, and the Bible and Luther. Though we are an Anglican church. A church in Texas snagged him up, and we are the poorer and he the richer for it.
The biggest question mark for me though was our head pastor, or as we say in the Anglican tradition, our priest and rector. He was a great preacher, of quiet and short sermons (compared to the great expositional works of my father that is). But I couldn't figure out who his wife was for the first few Sundays. I was so used to wives being on display--the great pastor props. It kind of surprised me when I figured out that he had a wife and many children, all of whom were at the church. None of whom were poster kids. He would actually pay the kids a dollar if he used their lives as examples without their permission. They had privacy.
But what was behind the privacy? It turned out he was just a plain man. His wife is a beautiful and stylish woman who has things to do besides being a second, unpaid staff member. She runs one prayer meeting a month. As far as I know-that's it. His kids go to public school and have gymnastic competitions. Two of them are adopted. All of them are loved. His oldest daughter hates sitting alone during the sermon. His wife doesn't cross herself when she prays. One of his sons has now grown up and is somewhat involved with the youth group. All of them are allowed to be themselves. And our priest is himself too. Plain and simple and incredibly nerdy. He has encyclopedias on prayer books. He consulted them when I came to the office with a pastoral question. Then he told me he wasn't sure, but his best guess would be... And that he made a C in Pastoral Counseling and it was an accurate reflection of how good he was at it. Which is true, by the way. But he is a good pastor. He is the best pastor I have had yet because he doesn't try to be any bigger than, or any different than what he is. He doesn't veneer his family either. It's the first time I have trusted a pastor as a person. Also, he has two bishops he has to answer to. I don't have to be the one who would have to correct him. It's incredibly freeing. It's why, with all the faults of my church, I haven't left. I feel that it would be hard to find that kind of leader again. I am learning a lot from watching him. And I do watch.
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