Excess Baggage

Experience told me I would need it if my prayers were to be answered.

It wasn’t very expensive; I found it a thrift store. I used something like it in the past, but this one was better. It was a tall stool with padding on the seat. When leading church music, I needed it because my right knee didn’t allow me to stand for long periods of time. And if I was ever going to preach, it would be essential to take the weight off. I tried out with several churches, driving long distances and carrying that stool in the vehicle.

But my prayers were not according to God’s plans. No church would have me; they’d rather do without. The stool had nothing to do with it. They didn’t like where I proposed to lead them. I believe most of them did do without for a long time; they were small and couldn’t pay much. I was willing to take low pay and make the most of the situation. I knew from experience I could make those churches grow. I had done it too many times elsewhere.

But slowly, be degrees over the years, I realized that no church was ever going to hire me. I had no business trying that route. I kept hoping, but it wasn’t going to happen.

So today I finally got rid of that stool. I never gave it much thought, only reflexively hanging onto it. In the last 15 years or so I lugged that thing along on every move, but not any more. You see, even if I now should find myself in the shepherd’s role here in meat space, it’s wholly unlikely to require that stool. Not that I won’t sing or teach, but that ditching the stool symbolizes how very different the context would have to be.

At this point I’m not even willing to entertain a call to pastor a traditional church. I’d be willing to volunteer to work with one that knew up front what comes with the package. But to actually hire me as pastor would see me very quickly leading them away from the traditional pattern of doing things, or they would run me off.

The real excess baggage is all the structure and activities I learned from attending and working in traditional churches. It’s not that it’s inherently wrong to do church that way; it’s wrong for me. Let someone else inherit my stool. I have a different calling for the rest of my life.