Yesterday, as I was finishing up on the treadmill at my health club, I became a momentary interloper in a discussion with the professional trainer on duty and two other men. The topic was a popular television show, and as I offered my two cents, the trainer, feigning disapproval, exclaimed, “Oh, thanks a lot, Reverend!” It has been my experience that as soon as someone learns that I am a clergy person, the frivolity usually stops.
A short time later, I was in the steam room when the same two men entered and began to chat. Finally, one of my fellow club members said to me, “Are you really a pastor or was he (the trainer) just kidding?” I confessed that I was indeed a pastor, and the discussion quickly turned to questions about my congregation and how we were doing. I mentioned that the economy had been rough on us as a community, and they seemed to understand. One of them acknowledged how difficult it seems for religious communities to attract and keep young families. No secret there.
At last, one of the men said something about the bad rap that organized religion was getting these days–he did not use those words–and he mentioned some of the recent scandals involving television evangelists. Maybe we are living in the end times, he suggested, and then quickly retreated by observing that he knew there was “a difference of opinion on that.”
There we were, wrapped in our towels, surrounded by a steamy environment, as the discussion turned to weightier matters, like the tendency for some believers to be judgmental and non-inclusive. I was encouraged by that and then seized the opportunity to sum up my own faith as a parting comment. I always regard such encounters as a chance to preach a 30-second sermon. I reminded the two, as I got up to hit the shower, that the religion of Jesus is about living with an awareness of the Kingdom of God more than being about sin and salvation. I thought that would be the end of the discussion. It wasn’t.
A few minutes later, I overheard the same two men talking in the whirlpool. I could not make out exactly what they were saying, but I clearly heard a reference to “the Holy Spirit.” I stopped at the glass partition and remarked about what a serious discussion was going on in there. They gave me the thumbs up and I went on my way.
I got to thinking as I gathered myself to leave the club that we are all theologians on some level. Some of us have had the benefit of a good graduate theological education, but all the rest know what they believe, their own systems being the product of many influences, some of which may be so much wishful thinking. All of us tend to fashion a personal systematic theology with which we are comfortable, without much regard for orthodoxy. It is good when the fruit of the Reformation breaks forth in theological discourse that is not professional.
I think it was Luther who observed that we become theologians by living and dying. He was probably referring to those who teach and preach. A steam room might be an unlikely place for theology, but I don’t think so. One never knows when and where the Kingdom might break forth.
Raising Basileia 