Being John

A preacher? Really?

One of my UPS co-workers got a little curious the other day, curious about where I’d come from and what I used to do before loading dusty brown vans in the wee small hours of the morning. I like curious people, so I told him yes, years ago now I was a pastor (he used the word preacher) and that probably to some degree and in some fashion I still am, but I’m not in the formal role any longer.

Wow. Well what happened to make you not be one?

I would not have phrased that question the way he did, but he did, and it had a grammatical innocence to it that I found refreshing. His tone though relayed concern, worry that maybe something happened, and in fact something did happen, a number of things actually, but that was not the time or place to peel that onion. I tried to steady him, I told him I started editing books and helping other people write their books and writing a few of my own books, that the course of my life just shifted—“like a river that don’t know where it’s flowing/I took a wrong turn and I just kept going.” No, I didn’t quote that Springsteen bit out loud to him, but I did in my head. And no, I don’t believe that shift was a wrong turn. In fact, I think it was very much the right turn. But I sure had no idea where it would lead me, still don’t. Like a river, I just kept flowing. As Levertov says, “intently haphazard…every step an arrival.”

The conversational windows are startlingly brief at work, usually a minute or two max when the volume eases a bit, or during our mandatory break (some of the folks smoke, I eat my banana and almonds). There’s a lot of context he doesn’t have and that’s okay. I tried to answer his curiosity appropriate to the brevity of our time. But now he knows and you can bet your overnight air mail my other co-workers now know I used to be a preacher. It’s not something that I hide, I’m not ashamed or embarrassed or anything like that. But I don’t lead with it either. It’s possible you might wonder why, that you might even slightly chastise me for hiding my light under a bushel or some such versey talk. Thanks, I’m good, probably best to keep your eyes on your own paper (smiley emoji). If someone decides to be curious about me, I’ll show my hand, no hesitation, for as Kent Meyers says in his masterful novel Twisted Tree: “once a priest, always a priest.”

Another of my co-workers in another snippet of conversation told me he was going back to church after a lengthy hiatus. He said, “I haven’t been in forever.” I don’t know if he’d heard I used to be a preacher before telling me that or if he simply offered up that information all on his own. He also told me he was trying to get back close to God. In my head I said, “Well, be careful.” I don’t know what getting back close to God means for him, but I’m glad he feels free to verbalize such a desire. It might rock his casbah to know how close God is to him, and has been since forever.

I’m mainly striving to be safe and accurate in the work. Safe, because I’m a bit older than my co-workers (I’ve discovered by about thirty years, dear God). And accurate because if I mis-load your Ralph Lauren chore jacket on the wrong truck then you won’t be happy for you’ll have nothing to wear for all those chores, plus that mis-load could get traced back to me and too many mis-loads and I’d lose my job and I wouldn’t be happy either.

I’m not intentionally trying to be some light there, I’m simply trying to be John. If there’s a little glow from time to time, as through a man darkly, let’s just chalk that up to the Grace that keeps this world. My hungry heart just keeps flowing.