The Relief of Coming in Second

About two decades ago, I was trying to figure out what was next. I had graduated from seminary and completed every grueling step for ordination in the Presbyterian Church. But I had yet to "receive a call," and honestly, I wasn’t sure I wanted one.

I interviewed with lovely people in Atlanta, Chicago, and Los Angeles. But after each of those weekends, as a finalist for the position of pastor, I found myself secretly hoping the committee would pick the other person. Each time the phone rang and I heard I had come in second, I didn't feel rejection.

I felt relief.

During that season of wandering, I was driving south down the Pacific Coast Highway at sunset. I began to interrogate myself about my "calling."

"What is it you actually feel called to do?" I asked.

The answer was immediate: "To share." Put me down anywhere in the world and I will share my experience. Through photography, through writing, through an email list—this was before "building a list" was a marketing term; it was just what I did. I felt called to share the beauty of how the Good is at work in the world. To share the connection, the common humanity, and the "good word."

I asked myself: "What do you call someone who is called to share the beauty of how God is at work in the world?"

And then, literally out of my mouth, came:

"F*, I’m an evangelist!"**

Not the kind with a megaphone and a sandwich board warning of hellfire. But the other kind. I realized that if Apple could have "evangelists," the church could surely reclaim a word that had earned its bad rap. I wanted to be an evangelist for the good.

A few months later, I was ordained in the Presbyterian Church as a ‘Tentmaking Evangelist’ (the tent making part just meant that I would not be paid, but would earn my own living through my work, like the Apostle Paul who was a literal tent maker). As a historical note, Fred Rogers—of the sweater fame—was also ordained as an evangelist in the Presbyterian Church. Like him, I wasn't called to manage a building; I was called to be a presence.

I’m thinking about that drive at sunset today as I am reflecting on my life as a tent making evangelist two decades later. 

For years, without realizing it, even though I had this uncommon calling, there was a part of me "making my rounds" in the frumpy clothes of what I thought a "responsible" adult life looked like. Responsible. Dutiful. Giving 110% until I often felt hollow and depleted from all the ‘responsibility.’ 

The other day I found myself driving to an event in San Diego on a Wednesday evening. I don’t really ever just ‘go to San Diego for an evening event’ - even though it is just a bit over an hour. 

The day was warm, the sun was getting lower in the sky, I followed my GPS to get off the freeway in a part of the city I had never been in before. The walls were covered with murals. People were strolling along the sidewalks, peering into the shops and the restaurants that lined the street. A favorite song came on my playlist. All of a sudden a wave of feeling washed over me - freedom. Joy. Delight. The Good. 

There it was -  the same "Good" I had identified on that drive down PCH two decades ago. But somewhere in the intervening years of 110% effort and "making the rounds," I had forgotten that I was allowed to be the receiver of that beauty, too.

In that moment, among the murals and the evening sun, I realized that being an ‘evangelist’ isn't only about sharing the experience for others - it is also about delighting in it myself.