There’s not a day goes by, I'm not asked by somebody what it’s like to be a Preacher.
“How do you do it, Preacher? The sermons, the puppet shows, the Pot Luck Dinner/ 3-Bean Salad organizing?”
You may not realize it, but people are simply fascinated by the life of Preachers.
But explaining what it’s like to be a Preacher is like explaining what it’s like to be James Bond. Most people just aren’t gonna get it. How do you explain the cool gadgets, the concordance collection, the constant outmaneuvering of evil enemies who want to take over the world, and the feeling you get when dropping out of an airplane from 3000 feet while in a shoot out with a Grumpy Elder?
Somethin’ like that. I think I mixed up my James Bond stuff with my Preacher stuff. The shoot out I had was from 4,000 feet; and it was 2 Grumpy Elders and a VERY snippy Deacon. Anyhow. You get it.
Now that I think if it, Preaching is more like being James Bond than many people might think. For example:
We both have cool letters in our names that we use for short: Brother Preacher (BP), James Bond (JB). James Bond also goes by a number (007). I pretty much just go by “Brother” - I’m kinda “low church” that way. If I HAD to go by a number I’d go by 003 -- for the Trinity, of course.
James Bond drives a Aston Martin DBS V-12, I drive a Ford Focus. Both have wheels and a fairly decent cup holder. One is equipped with a machine gun and an ejector seat for protection, while the other has a stack of religious tracts that can leave a pretty nasty paper cut.
One has a bunch of cool spy gadgets he gets from a guy named “Q”; I get all my cool preaching gadgets from Gidget. (By the way, check out her new website coming soon: Gadgets By Gidget - “for the Preacher in your life”. She makes some great baptismal waders that double as protective door knocking gear.)
James Bond saves the world in the just nick of time, usually by getting his tie stuck in something mechanical; I pretty much do the same thing by stickin’ my tie in a Bible to mark the best “get saved verses”.
JB comes home after a hard day to a bevy of bikini-clad beauties; I come home to Gidget.
Eat your heart out, JB.
As together we stand and sing.