The Misadventures of Pastor Pete

The Misadventures of Pastor Pete

People sometimes ask why I call myself a "youth director" and not "youth pastor." Despite the seeming arbitrariness of the things I choose to do, that is actually an intentional decision.


Let me tell you a story.


Anyone who is familiar with my love life knows that I don't have much of one. But, in the rare instance of an encounter with the opposite gender, it almost always ends memorably for me.


One of these instances happened recently when I met a pretty girl I'd never seen before. She didn't seem to notice me in the crowd of people we were in, so like the smooth criminal that I am I casually strolled over to her and muttered, "hey, uhhh... cool shoes."


You would think a girl would melt under the weight of such charm, but this one was a tough customer. She was head over heels, I guess, but only in the most technical sense of the phrase.


"Thanks," she said.


We then observed a mutual moment of silence to commemorate all the awkward, boy-meets-girl introductions throughout history. The wallpaper around us became surprisingly interesting as we quietly inspected it for what seemed like the next three or four hours.


Now, a stall like this so early in the conversation would have disheartened the average, self-respecting man. But not I. I have no self-respect.


Whether she wanted to continue or not, I forced the conversation forward. I asked her all the conventional college questions, like, "What's your major?" and "Where are you from?" and "How do you like the name Bartholomew if it's a boy? But we could call him Bart, if you want."

 

Although infinitely better than the soul-crushing silence we had just experienced, the stiff, awkward dialogue played out more like a job interview than the whimsical romantic comedy I was shooting for.


Then it happened. She asked me the right question.


"So, do you work somewhere?"


My swag level instantly cranked to eleven. I slowly raised my hand against the alternating yellow and brown striped wallpaper and stuck the other in my pocket, leaving my thumb out like all those cool poster models in JC Penny. "Actually," I said, looking into the distance and squinting like Dirty Harry, "I do."


"I'm a youth pastor."


The words tasted sweet as sugar as they rolled out of my mouth. If that didn't impress her, I thought, then nothing will.


As I said before, I usually tell people I'm a youth director. But not this girl. No, to this girl I was a youth pastor. I didn't really plan on using the term, it just happened. It was a game time decision I made in the heat of the moment.


Because "pastor" just sounds so much more spiritual than "director," doesn't it? It makes me sound like I'm one of the spiritual elite. Like I'm some sort of holy man. Like I should be throwing water on stuff and casting out demons. Like I'm the spiritual Clint Eastwood.


If any of you know me, though, you can confirm that this notion of "Pastor Pete" is laughable. I feel like the least adequate person in the world to be herding a group of teens toward the Almighty.


What aggravates me now is that I think it really did impress that girl. For those few minutes, I was cooler than I actually was. More specifically, I was more "spiritual" than I actually was.


But that girl didn't know that. And some of you who don't know me may not either. All you know is my title. All you know is that I'm a "youth pastor."


To be fair, though, the girl wasn't that impressed because I haven't seen her since. Maybe she was just intimidated by the gravity of my personality. Yeah, let's go with that.


But the experience still haunts me. Not only has her blank stare visited me in my nightmares recently, but I used the word "pastor" to make someone think more highly of me than they ought. And even worse, I then acted as if I really was the person she thought. 


I was cool guy Pastor Pete, the young stud who is leading the youth of America out of spiritual depravity, the guy who probably cares a lot about social justice and wears cheap JC Penny clothes because of his incredible humility. 


But in reality, I was just the guy who likes to play pretend.


Maybe some people are mature enough to be called a pastor. But for me, let's just stick with youth director.

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