Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: EMBARRASS(ED) (11/03/16)
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TITLE: A Suggestion | Previous Challenge Entry
By Terry Bovinet
11/10/16 -
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In my mid-20s and with a seminary degree in hand, I moved to Paulding County and started pastoring two small, rural churches. One day I rode with a parishioner, an insightful leader in one of the churches, on some errands he ran for his farming operation.
My parishioner approached a stop sign and, without hesitation, treated it like a yield sign. He slowed, but only a bit, looked left and right, and then sped past the red octagon.
“We drive a little differently in the country,” he laughed.
I laughed with him and registered this information.
Given his older age and experience in the County, I quickly adopted his method of stop sign management. Slow, look, and proceed.
One morning, I worked at one of the churches I served. White. Cemetery behind it. Winding creek meandering a few hundred yards away. My name and newly earned academic credentials – Master of Divinity - posted with metal letters in the lighted sign out front.
I left that church to visit parishioners from the second church who lived about five minutes away. I treated the one-word red sign at the road a mile north of the first church as a suggestion and barreled through the intersection. Another mile north – passed by the second church - turned east, and I arrived at my destination.
For the last part of that short journey, I apparently did not look in my rear view mirror. After parking in their driveway, I saw the red and blue glare of flashing lights attached to the top of a deputy sheriff’s car had pulled up directly behind me.
“You ran that stop sign a mile back.”
“Yes, Deputy, no excuses.”
“Driver’s license and registration, please.”
As I retrieved the documents, he asked. “What are you doing here?”
“I serve as their minister and stopped for a pastoral visit,” I answered awkwardly and with more than a little embarrassment.
With my driving credentials in his hands, he looked them over with some irritation in his expression. I had not yet transferred my license from my home state of Indiana.
At this point, the couple stepped outside to observe the proceedings. Stalwarts in the second church I served, their encouragement made the transition from student to pastor much easier. Two of their three adult children and their families still attended the church with them. Another son pastored a congregation near where they lived. In their 70s, their loving support and spiritual leadership helped guide their “little church by the side of the road” – a part of almost every prayer he offered in worship services or Bible studies.
For whatever reason, the deputy did not cite me. No ticket. Not even a warning. Maybe a “pastoral discount”? Or maybe he believed I would receive my judgment in the next few minutes.
“In Ohio, we stop at those red signs.” With that, he returned to his patrol car, finally shut off those extremely annoying flashing lights, and took off.
Then I needed to explain to this curious couple that despite the lofty title of my seminary degree, I had not actually mastered divinity.
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