Trickster

What kind of person climbs a tree during synod assembly and then teases one of the elders by saying his name from the top of the tree so he keeps looking around? 

Synod assemblies (big church meetings for the whole state) make me a little crazy. I don't sit well, but that's only part of it. 

-Crowds of people overwhelm me so I tend to make myself invisible by hiding somewhere and playing games. 

-I scream profanities when I feel like I'm being talked to like I'm an idiot. There is no question that clergy and lay folks are ignorant of many things, but that doesn't make us stupid. There's something about sing-song voices and rhetorical questions that make me want to scream, "Stop talking to me like I'm *&^% stupid!" 

Something delightful happens in the community when we dig into Tillich or Kierkegaard or scripture knowing we won't understand or grasp it all, but our minds wake up for adventures. This is why I stay in the balcony playing cribbage and Bananagrams. I'm not trying to disconnect, but I do enjoy my vocation and would like to keep it so I have to do what I can to keep my mouth shut at times.

-There is also the annoying habit at church meetings to love the church that doesn't exist. The disappointment and frustration of all our relationships where folks aren't quite who we imagined gets multiplied. The church is always a disappointment, but she is also one of the greatest delight and glimpse we have of what God is doing. Maybe when we stop dreaming of the beautiful bride we hope to be and live as the doxy (I learned this word playing Bananagrams), then we might learn something about love and forgiveness.

But none of these synod assembly challenges justify climbing a tree and tricking an old man. 

Except that's who I am as a person and pastor. When I think of metaphors for pastor, there are the nurturing ones of midwife and mothering hen, and that is not me most days. If I were to claim a metaphor for my ministry it would be the trickster, jester, or fool. 

The role of the trickster or jester is to approach the truth from the side. It traditionally has been using the absurd to distort one's vision of reality a bit so we discover hard truths ourselves. The jester was relied upon to confront the king with hard truths, but the king had to see the truth for himself. If the jester blurted it out, then he wouldn't leave with his head. Nathan and David are a good biblical example. 

I won't get too puffed up. Most days I'm just a goofy dork, but every now and then I play around enough that someone sees themselves, the world, or God in a whole new way.

Naturally I told sweet Vincent that I was messing with him later. I have enough native friends that I suspected he would laugh. A smile cracked open his face and he erupted in laughter. 

Those serendipitous moments of joy seem like empty tomb moments. In the midst of boredom, tedium, and death, a little foolishness lets new life seep out. 

I refrained from jumping out of the tree and yelling, "SURPRISE!" I should at least get points for that.