I’m writing over at Amber Salhus‘ place today! Amber wrote a hilarious post over here, too, and I’ve also had her on the podcast. I’ll start the post here, but make sure to go over to her site to get the rest of it. And while you’re there, read some of her stuff. She really is one of my favorite bloggers these days! Enjoy.
Confessions of an Honest Pastor: Why it’s the Best, Worst Job Ever
Being a pastor is the best, worst job ever.
First of all, you have the dubious honor of attempting to speak for God on Sundays, and most of the rest of the week, too. When it comes to a layup like John 3:16, we come out smelling pretty good. God loves everyone, everywhere! I love that one, and I try to sneak it into just about every sermon I can.
But what about when it comes to the one where God piles one family in a large boat, along with all the animals, except the unicorns (who apparently were having coffee or frolicking in the hills or didn’t print their boarding passes on time) while the rest of the world drowns? I’m not sure where the hope is in that one. And why is it that this story is the one that gets painted on the walls of every kids ministry room in every church in the northern hemisphere?
Which brings me to the babies. Whenever I get to dedicate or baptize one of them, I cry great big pastor-tears. Whether they gurgle and coo when I hold them or let out a blood-curdling scream of anguish, I love them all. I baptized one of them recently who was wearing a little baby-sized fedora and bowtie. For reals. Babies are cute, but babies with fedoras? You had me at hello.