Eating Pizza (II)

After discussing his ministry history, Brother Jones abruptly brought up the reason for our lunch. “What do you want from me?” he said.

I didn’t expect that question, but tried to recover quickly. “I would like you and your family to come back to the church and let us have a time together to celebrate the ministry that God has done through you over the last eight years at Susan Song.”

“Well, the truth is I don’t really need that.” he responded. “I mean, that church is a good church and although I was there for eight years I don’t need any kind of special ceremony.”

I thought for a moment.

“Brother Jones,” I said carefully “I don’t want you to take this the wrong way. But I do want you to understand that my interest is not primarily in what you do or do not need. I am a lot more concerned about the church. And they need closure. Whether you need this or not is irrelevent.”

I wondered how he would take this.

“The problem was. I didn’t know how to leave. So when I reached my decision, I just left.” he said quietly. “I mean, what point is there in staying at a church any longer after you decide to go? ” I wasn’t sure if this question was rhetorical or not, so I nodded and took another bite of pepperoni pizza.

“So what exactly do I need to do?” he asked, with some resignation.

I replied “All I want you to do is to come back for a service. Preach the message, and let us have a meal with you and your family afterwards. It will be a time of celebration as you let the church love on you and your family a little bit.”

He chewed this over in his mind as he chewed the cheese pizza in his hand.

I tried another tactic. “Do you realize that Mrs. Bernice and David and Sharon weren’t even there the Wednesday night you resigned? The feel that they really didn’t get to say good-bye because they missed that one Wednesday night.”

Pause.

“Plus you just told me that as a young man you swore to God that if anyone ever asked you to preach that you would do so.”

After I said this last line, great gusts of laughter same rumbling out of his throat. “Brother Taran, right after I told you that, I thought I’d regret it. And I sure do!” he laughed.

“I’ll tell you what. I’ll come and preach to the church. We can stay around and eat afterwards. That’s something we really love to do anyways” he said as he patted his belly.

But then he turned serious. His eyes moistened as he carefully said “But the truth is, this church walked with us during some difficult days when my mother died. They held me up while my wife was sick for those seven months. They encouraged me and loved on me more than you can imagine. Brother Taran, the truth is they ministered to me, far more than I ever ministered to them. The have loved me and my family for years and have kept me going through some very, very difficult times.”

I paused for a moment, realizing that we were on holy ground as we sat in the non-smoking section.

I said simply “They really need to hear you say that.”

And he nodded.