DOES GOD HAVE A PONYTAIL? [F, 9-20-24]

BEYOND WINTER: The Irrelevant Musings of an Old Man—DOES GOD HAVE A PONYTAIL? [F, 9-20-24]

 

I knew Nic first when he was just a kid in the Conference Youth Fellowship with my daughters. They liked him. So did I. He was funny and pleasant. He stuck green beans up his nose. [2]

He went into the ministry, and we became colleagues. As I was nearing the end of my full-time years, he was on our conference’s Board of Ministry. One of his jobs was to run the orientation for pastors new to the conference, both the newly ordained and those transferring in from other conferences.

He called me. “I want you to be the last presenter,” he said. “For two days they will hear what it’s supposed to be like. I want you to tell them what it’s really like.” He knew my approach. He knew my reputation.

I felt honored. It was a significant responsibility. I was glad to do it. It sounded like fun. But it was tricky…

…because we are hampered both by knowing too much about what it’s supposed to be like, and by knowing too much about what it’s really like. [1]

We need ideals. As in Robert Browning’s line, “A man’s grasp should exceed his reach, or what’s a heaven for?” In my freshman year of college, I wrote that out with an ink pen and propped it on my desk. College freshmen are especially attracted to grasping beyond our reach.

But heaven is not reached on earth. Trying for it will result only in disappointment and disillusion.

I did not want to destroy all that was said before me in that new pastor orientation. On the other hand, I knew those new conference members would have their best ministries if they could hold together what should be and what would be.

So I wore my ponytail cap, a blue baseball cap with a long, blond ponytail attached.

None of the new preachers knew me, of course. Nic just introduced me as a member of the Conference. Didn’t say what I would talk about. I was dressed quite casually under my gray beard, with the cap on top. I began to talk. No one seemed very interested. They were tired after two days of this.

Then I laid the cap on the desk in front of me. Just kept talking. At first there were smiles, then a ripple of chuckles, then full laughter. “I thought you were just some old hippie preacher” one guy chortled.

“And there is the main thing you need to take away from this orientation,” I said. “Stay open. Things may not be what they look like.”

As I approach the end of my life, and consider meeting God face to face, I’m thinking about what kind of cap God might wear…

John Robert McFarland

1] When women clergy in our conference became numerous enough to have their own caucus, I was, by invitation, the only male member. They knew I was an advocate for their inclusion and advancement, and they thought I could tell them about how stuff worked in the conference, stuff that only men knew at that time. I did not know nearly as much as they thought I did, since I was always an outlier to the seats of power, but I wanted to stay in the caucus, so I made stuff up out of my miasmic imagination. It was okay; it all turned out to be true.

2] When Nic was appointed by the bishop to be a District Superintendent [an assistant bishop], I called him to wish him well. “As a DS,” I said, “you can’t stick green beans up your nose.” “Too late,” he replied.