I've been in ministry
long enough to know that people take for granted that no pastor has any
mechanical aptitude. They forget that before we were called to the ministry,
pastors had secular jobs; we are not utterly inept.
Just a few days ago, for example, as I attempted to start my car, the check engine light came on. Did I ignore
the light, as the mechanically inept
pastor would do? No, I immediately popped
the hood and got out and checked. It was
a false alarm; the engine was still there. By the way, this has been the case
every time my check engine light has
come on. Clearly this light was another promising idea that didn't pan
out---like the idea to store our used plastics in the ocean, or have a hurricane season.
"Or the idea that a pastor could be humorous?"
Thank you, Pretty Boy. When I want your input, I'll ask a cop to tase me.
But suppose it had not been a false
alarm. Suppose this time the engine was in
fact missing. Perhaps you imagine that like the typical clueless pastor, I would have hopped back into the car and
attempted to drive to the nearest auto mechanic. But I wasn't born last Tuesday.
I know enough to never drive a car
when 1) it's out of oil, or 2) it's out of coolant, or 3) its engine is
missing.
"Well," you're thinking, "maybe this pastor has learned a few things about
cars over the years, but that doesn't disprove the presumption that he's
mechanically witless. What sort of tools does he have in his garage? That'll
tell the story."
I'm proud to say that I have a toolbox (well technically it's an old fishing
box) complete with not just a hammer,
a pair of pliers and a wrench, but multiple screwdrivers, both flat
and Phillips-head. And for your
information, I've known about the Phillips-head screwdriver for decades. I
learned about it from an old Lassie episode.
For the benefit of any reader under sixty-five, Lassie was a collie from the Scottish Highlands who was forced to come to America and live with June
Lockhart and a boy named Timmy on a studio set that was painstakingly created,
down to the last detail, to look exactly like a fake farm. Everybody who was
alive in the fifties remembers Lassie
because we only had 3 TV channels and if one of them was broadcasting Lawrence Welk and another Queen for a Day, we were all funneled to
Lassie.
