Man in the Box
My dad had been in surgery for nearly 5 hours when my grandpa’s pastor, who was from out of town, dropped in for a visit. Introductions were made and I was impressed that he came all this way to show support not just for my dad, whom he hardly knew, but for members of dad’s family. Pastor Dominic sat down in the only open seat left and like in most surgery waiting rooms a nervous silence ensued.
That is, until Pastor Dominic spoke.
“Did you know evolution cannot account for human emotion?”
If the words random, odd or awkward just crossed your mind you are not alone. I think I and several others mumbled something profound like, “Ok.” Most of us in the room had been awake since 4:30AM and as lunch approached none of us really cared about how or where human emotion originated. Pastor Dominic was just getting started.
“In addition, evolution cannot account for the optic nerve, cerebral cortex and the, the, the…one other thing that has to do with the eye.” As he contemplated this third piece of the puzzle that would disprove evolution my eyes rolled to the back of my head.
“Retina!” he shouted with relief. “Optic nerve, cerebral cortex and the retina. Evolution can’t account for them.” And then, turning to my 82 year old grandpa, he said, “Even if the big bang theory is true, where did the gases originate? It’s just intellectual dishonesty to say they were always there.”
I kinda smiled inside when grandpa simply said, “Ok.” My younger brother, who was sitting next to Dominic, gave me a look that said, “Help.”
I wasn’t sure if Pastor Dominic was trying to convince all of us or just himself. One thing I was sure of though – no way was I going to divulge that I was a pastor. My brother was on his own. And then my mother, who I can only presume was delirious, spoke.
“My son Chad is a pastor, too.” I’m sure the look I cut my mother was sharper then the scalpel my dad’s surgeon was using.
“He’s pastoring a church while going to seminary at…”
You know those moments in movies where the action slows way down and words get drawn way out? Like when a person trips and an expensive family heirloom goes tumbling through the sky in slow motion while the falling person screams, “Nooooooooo!” That is the sort of scene I envisioned as my mom mouthed,
“….Duke.” The heirloom shattered. Now, let me say this. Anyone who attends Duke Divinity will tell you that we are quite orthodox. But this fact is less known and very suspect in certain parts of the country. I was in such a part of the country. Pastor Dominic looked at me with the sort of look I reserve for my kids when they’ve misbehaved. And in the same way, the questions came fast and furious.
“What sort of church do you pastor?”
“Methodist.”
“What flavor of Methodist?”
From the previous chatter about evolution and the tone with which the question was asked I could tell that the sort of answer he was fishing for was of the “good” or “bad” variety.
“United,” I said. I think I looked at my younger brother. Help?
“When was the last time you preached on holiness?”
“What’s that?” No, I didn’t say that. But I thought it. Instead I went with the truth. “I’m preaching a series on sanctification all summer.” I probably said this with too much pride.
“What was the text you preached from last week?”
Before I could answer with Baruch 2:4 (I’m not that holy) my blessed phone rang. It was my wife, and I had to take it. Fortunately the surgeon came in to report good news right after I hung up and that was the last exchange Dominic and I had. I was grateful.
This brief interaction has been playing in my head several times since it happened Friday. I think the reason it has stayed with me all weekend is because I saw in Dominic what can so easily be found in myself, and among Christians everywhere. It was an odd feeling to be weighed so quickly on the basis of a few words (Methodist, Duke) and be found wanting in the eyes of this pastor. It was odd to be made to feel as though I needed to justify who I was after being packaged away in a cozy box of someone else’s making.
As I said, we all do this. In fact, I did it the moment this pastor started talking about evolution as I concluded in my own mind the sort of sermons my grandpa must get fed each week – a healthy dose of apologetics to protect a fragile faith from the enemies of science and culture. Without ever having heard this pastor speak I assumed he was less sure that God was really in charge then he was about the Big Bang theory’s holes.
I put people in boxes when I hear someone talk of their support of Arizona’s immigration laws or their dislike of health care reform. I box up those people who look at our multi-racial family and roll their eyes and I package neatly the homogenized church I visit or the one that honors a national flag. I categorize people who have far too many personal pronouns in their public prayers and those who reference Tim LaHaye when talking about our future hope as Christians or those who think Bishop Spong has Jesus nailed.
When the poets Alice in Chains wrote “Man in the Box” I wonder if they thought of themselves as being there by choice. My guess is they felt as though they were put there, buried in what the singer prophetically names as “shit.” Won’t you come and save me, save me?
Jesus exploded boxes. Whether it be the woman at the well, the story of the Samaritan who is good, making contact with the leper, eating with tax collectors, blessing a whore, breaking bread with traitors, looking with love upon a rich young ruler, Jesus chose to relate with those who were outside the traditional boxes rather than pepper them with a barrage of questions solely for the sake of determining whether or not they were an innie or an outie.
For Jesus, there was no question whether or not God was in charge which made it easy for him to look at the world and upon the other with eyes that invited and accepted instead of suspected and divided.
All of us have been the man in the box. The lie I think we fall for most often is that our salvation depends on getting in the right box while we sort everyone else into boxes of their own. This lie only buries us deeper and deeper in our own, well, you know…
Thanks, Pastor Dominic, for reminding me of some of the boxes Jesus liberated me from while convicting me of some of my own box-ing tendencies. John Calvin said the human heart is a factory of idols. Surely the human mind is a U-Haul warehouse.
Thanks be to God, Jesus has a big dolly.
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Chad,
I too have had such experiences, often when on visits to the hospital when there are children of a church member present, and their pastor shows up. I’ve always found it odd that at the moment I am found out to be a pastor, from Duke, a barrage of questions (you really shouldn’t call them questions of interest, this is an interrogation). Usually only to find the one thing that they can jump on top of to ‘discredit’ me, my work, or the work that Christ is doing through me. It almost always is one of the fundamentalist talking points. Sometimes I just want to tell them I’m gay so they’ll leave me alone. Why must two people who work for the same God be so at odds? Why is it other pastors I must be most afraid of engaging with? Why does their intention of tearing me down always grate on me so?
What do you think? Are we pastors just that egotistical?
Glad to hear your dad is ok. God Bless!
Joe,
Good to hear from you and thanks for the prayers for my dad. He’s coming home today (Tuesday).
I understand where you are coming from. In my experience pastors can and do have huge egos. It can be hard, I think, not to develop one (if it wasn’t already there) when he or she is in the spotlight so often. I think it’s probably the easiest sin to succumb to since everyone is so ready and willing to love their pastor (or hate them, which serves the same purpose).
The question I think is how do we guard against this? Obviously, knowing that it is bound to happen we are in a real way making gains and can be more self-aware. I’m not sure how of even if we should insist upon other pastors being more self-aware. What do you think? Perhaps in our system we have a bit more recourse to deal with those issues, but as our recent discussion pointed out, our denomination fails to follow through with policies that are already in place.
Hope you are well too!
Chad, An interesting and poignant read. Thanks!
Chad, Thank you for sharing in a way that helped so many of us reflect. I felt as though I were in the waiting room living through this with you. If roles were reversed, the same boxes would apply. Most enlightening was to have a Methodist brother quote the great John Calvin. Blessings and prayers with you and your family.
I just wonder what possessed the pastor to bring that topic up in the first place? Unless he was trolling for souls and hoping to save someone, beginning with a ‘proof’ for God, I just don’t see the rationale.
It does strike me that I have some pretty religious friends whose theology is different than mine, but they seem hesitant to bring it up around me since I’m on staff at a church. They may be putting me in a box: someone who is going to “win” any discussion, so let’s avoid the discussion.