A Case of Unknown Identity
A good place to restart my efforts to write regularly
In my new role as an assistant pastor in a new place, I am still getting to know the people and connect names to faces. One of the members of our new congregation had volunteered to make the announcements before the service. She has a strong connection to a local mercy ministry and therefore had special interest in that Sunday’s announcements which included one about a donations for a clothing drive. My wife (Marianna) and I both noticed how passionate that Ginny was about this local ministry, how clearly she seemed to understand the vision, and how she concisely and convincingly communicated its impact. After several weeks, Ginny was up to make announcements again. She was singing with the worship team and so was already up front. Then, with a measured thoughtfulness, she made all of the announcements, again making us feel what she felt about them and clearly, confidently communicating how people could participate. After the service I thanked her for being willing to be up front. She responded with a warm smile and a laugh and some form of, “I am sure people think I am crazy up there, I don’t know if I like doing that.”
Being new, my radar is tuned for signals to “jump in” with some of my highly refined shepherding skills. Maybe I should encourage this willing parishioner, maybe she is unsure of her giftedness.
“Listen,” I said, “you are really good at that. My wife and I both noticed a few weeks ago when you made the announcements. You have a gift of communicating with passion that is not distracting. We could both tell that you really cared about what you were saying, without over doing it. We really appreciated it.”
Ginny thanked me, and we went on with our day. Later that week as we reviewed the prior Sunday’s service, I asked someone what Ginny did for a living. It was then that I realized that I had (reaching for all the discernment and compassion that I had been carrying around in my pastoral backpack) told a best selling novelist to “Be encouraged, you have a real gift for communication.”
What a hilarious and humbling moment for me. I had tried so hard not to sound patronizing as I warmly encouraged someone in her communication skills. I mean, I would know, I am a “professional communicator”. Maybe our encouragement was just what she needed that day. Unaware that within the previous 10 days or so that The New York Times had sent her that same message.
In appreciation of Ginny, I will say there was never a hint of do-you-even-know-who-i-am in her words or demeanor. It comes through in her writing too. She was gracious and sincere in her response and even more so the next Sunday, when I confessed my ignorance. “Writing and talking in front of people are two different things,” she said. That may be true, but we both appreciated the irony1 of the moment.
I have since read her book. It is wonderful, and in reading it I was reminded how much Truth I have learned about myself, about community, about theology, and about life through reading “fiction” over the last 10 years especially.
Needless to say, I have a hunch about this kid, with her talent and my encouragement, who knows what heights she might reach?
Is that the right use of “irony”? I have tried to avoid using it ever since like 25 years ago in college, I heard so many people say things like, “No, that is ‘coincidence’, ‘irony’ is _________.” I simply started saying “coincidentally” a lot and just never saying “ironic”.