Mismatched and Blessed

This past Sunday my church held it's annual Picnic at a nearby park.  It was a gorgeous day with temperatures in the low 80s and just a slight breeze to keep us comfortable.  We had great food - hamburgers and hot dogs grilled to perfection and a grand smorgasbord of side dishes and deserts contributed by all that attended.  Kids played, adults sat around and talked.  Everyone had a great time.

Part of the fun for more than a few was the opportunity to make fun of me, the pastor.  You see, I made the mistake of showing up at the picnic wearing plaid shorts and a striped shirt.  Hardly could I imagine that a picnic would be a place where fashion was a concern, but apparently there are some clothing faux pauxs that are unacceptable anywhere.  To my credit, I kind of ended up in this situation by mistake.  I had picked out a light colored shirt because I knew we would be outside and, even with the weather as nice as it was, dark colors in the AZ sun are trouble.  I went to the shorts drawer in my room and found that the pair of shorts that were on top, while a solid color and, as such, appropriate to match my striped shirt, happened to be the pair that I knew were too big (yes, I have a pair of shorts that are actually too big for my somewhat rounded belly, but that's for a different blog post).  I didn't want to wear the shorts that were too big, so I started to dig. The next next pair - also a solid color - were too small (a much more familiar problem for me).  I came to the fated plaid pair, put them on, they fit fine, so I went with it.  Admittedly, I realized the ill advised matching of the shirt and shorts, but at that point I didn't care.  And like I said...I was going to a picnic for crying out loud, not a fancy dinner!

So I ended up at the picnic with a goofy outfit on.  The jokes began almost before I had a chance to put my contribution to the feast on the serving table.  "Who dressed you, Pastor Scott?"  "Did you look in the mirror before you left the house?"  Even my wife joined in the fun by tossing into the mix, "I noticed, but I didn't say anything to him.  I figured he's a big boy and can make his own mistakes." Translation - "He looked ridiculous, but I didn't say anything because anybody who's that dumb deserves the scorn that he brings on himself."

Actually, it was all in fun, and I really don't mind the kind of playful scorn and banter that comes as the result of silly things I do.  I don't mind being the subject of the laughter and finger pointing, particularly if it comes from a group of people who I trust and appreciate.  These are the people of my church community who are like family to me.  (I suppose a psychologist would accuse me of drawing unnecessary attention to myself in a subconscious bid for unmet needs of approval, but we'll leave that for another blog post, too!)

In the end, it really didn't matter what I was wearing or that I looked ridiculous, because (as I had already surmised) we were there for a fun gathering of friends - to eat, and chat, and to play and enjoy each other's company.  This we did, and did well!

But something extra special happened, too.

There were some people there who were family members of an older lady who has been attending our church off and on for the last few months - a mom and dad, a teenage daughter and a little one.  I'll cut right to the chase and tell you that these newcomers did not fit our usual mold...they looked different.  Without going into details, their differentness included tattoos, piercings, graphic clothing, and large jewelry.  I'm in no way passing judgement, rather pointing out that they looked different from our normal "mid-west transplant" Lutheran family.  Perhaps it's the case that they, in fact, looked more normal in today's world than the rest of us.  In any event, they were there, and I was happy to see them.  Several of our "regulars" took the opportunity to converse with them, for which I was also pleased.

As I was gathering up my stuff to go, and as Jana was still chatting with her friends, the dad - who's name I learned was Aaron, came up to me and said, "I just wanted to let you know that I think it's really cool that a pastor has a tattoo." (I have a small tattoo of a lizard on my ankle.)  I replied, "Oh, thanks...I also wear an earring most of the time but don't have it in my ear today!"  This interaction began a nice conversation between Aaron and me wherein he shared with me that he really liked our church (his family had visited one Sunday a couple months ago when I had been out of town), that he found our congregation to be welcoming and accepting, and that he wondered if I would be willing to not only do a wedding for him and the mother of his child, but also would I baptize the little one.  Aaron's father had been a Mennonite pastor, so he knew the  general culture of church in America, but many things in life had conspired to set Aaron and his family on a, shall we say, difficult adventure.  Long story short, he wants to give his family the stability of a loving church community, and he wants to be a part of our family.

All of this made me think about my odd pairing of plaid shorts and a striped shirt and the ribbing I received for making such a foolish fashion mistake.  True, I looked ridiculous.  But not all pairings of things that look different are a bad thing.  I am glad that my congregation is a place where someone like Aaron and his family would feel welcome.  I'm glad that Aaron and his family feel comfortable being who they are in the midst of a group of people who are plain old stuffy Lutherans.  Truth be told we are all different in our own ways.  Each of us has our unique way of dressing, living, loving and sharing.  In a world where things "different" are scorned, I'm glad that God puts them together and creates a perfectly matched ensemble out of all of us.

I wonder if I have anything with polka-dots that I could wear to next year's picnic???...