Dazzled

One sunny morning in the autumn of 1999 I arrived at my office at the First United Methodist Church of Kissimmee expecting an uneventful day.  As happens so often in ministry, I was dead wrong.  I no sooner opened my door than the intercom buzzed, and our secretary Katie told me that The Pastor Who Shall Not Be Named wanted to see me.  I headed downstairs trying to think what this visit could be about and assuming it would not be good.  This time I was correct. 

Some of the students I spent "too much time" with- 1999

I was barely seated in his office when he began to share some thoughts on our student ministry.  He had heard from "reliable sources" that some of the youth had been talking about him in a disrespectful manner.  This was true.  His "pretend tears" that seemed to come most every week in worship had turned him into somewhat of a laughing stock among the teenagers (and some of the adults, I might add).  I did not tell him this, but did say I would speak with the youth about being more supportive.  He continued on to say that he was concerned about the number of youth attending church.  I reminded him that at our lunch a month prior to that morning I had expressed concern that the youth were very disappointed at the changes he had made to worship.  He told me it was my job to make them attend.  And finally- and most unbelievably- he informed me that our summer ministries had paid far too much attention to building relationships and attracting new youth.  He wanted me to spend less time with students and more time in my office.  I was speechless.  He also informed me that we were spending too much money on students whose parents were not members of FUMC-K.  This had to stop, I was told.  I half expected him to require membership cards (like the Show Me Cards from the alternate world on FRINGE) for admission to the youth room.  When I left the office of The Pastor Who Shall Not Be Named that morning, I had a variety of names for him- none of which I can print here.  I was not asking "WWJD?"- I was thinking more along the lines of "What would Chuck Norris do?" I knew that my days in Kissimmee were numbered.

I went back up to my office and checked my e-mail, finding that several more churches had responded to my online resume.  Among those responses was one from an Episcopal church in New Orleans.  The head of their search committee had left a phone number and asked me to call him- so I did.  He told me that his committee had reviewed a number of resumes and placed mine at the top of their "wanted" list.  This was a very large church, with a huge budget for youth ministry.  He told me that the salary range was more than twice what I was currently making- at the low end.  They wanted me to fly my family in for an interview and to see the facilities (which sounded amazing) as soon as possible.  I agreed.  I was so frustrated with The Pastor Who Shall Not Be Named and so dazzled by this church that I didn't even think about it.  I just said yes.  I was to talk to Marilyn and get back to them with a date. 

And then I started thinking.  What did I know about the Episcopal church?  Very little, except the history of how it came to be.  And that was enough to remind me that this Quaker had enough problems with the hierarchy and structure of the UMC- I would never survive as an Episcopal. This was not their problem- it was my own personal preferences.  I was just beginning to truly explore contemporary worship, and this church sounded even more liturgical and traditional than FUMC-K.   I knew very little about New Orleans as well.  Realizing I had jumped the gun, I called him back and said I needed some time to pray about it.  Two days later I cancelled the trip altogether.  My search would continue.  And it would not be the last time I would be dazzled by the "things of this world" as I tried to find a place to serve God.  Tomorrow, I take my first trip for an interview- in Kentucky.  And it was a doozy...

Because of Jesus,