I think it is now safe to tell this story. Many of the major players in the story are now dead, most of the others don't read my blog!
After graduating from seminary, I served as pastor of a small, rural church in L.A. (Lower Alabama, for those who don't know). The church was your typical small church, with 4 or 5 families that made up the church's membership. I lived next door to the church, in what we called a pastorium. The pastorium matched the church in appearance--white cinder block, with a matching black roof. If the house had only had a steeple...
My neighbor across the street was a member of the church and a member of the largest family group in our church.
And, he liked to know my business. He liked knowing what I did, when I did it, where I went, who I visited, what time I ate lunch, etc. I would often see him sitting on his front porch, almost 24 hours a day, just watching the goings-on at the preacher's house and at the church.
Let me tell you a little about my neighbor. Everyone in the church called him "Doc." Well, he didn't really seem like the "Doc" type, so one day, I asked him about the name. You will love the explanation about his name as much as I did!
It seems that when Doc was born, his family didn't really have much money to pay the doctor for his delivery. So, his parents asked the doctor if they could provide him with some vegatables or chickens or something like that. The doctor was gracious and said that was not necessary.
However, the family kept insisting that they do something for the doctor. Finally, the doctor relented and said, "Well, I've never had a family name a new baby after me. That would be a great payment!"
The family loved the idea and decided to name their new son after the doctor, using the doctor's first name for their son. The doctor's first name? Well, I don't know for sure and neither did Doc's family. For the family, the only first name they knew for the doctor was "Doctor." So, they named their son "Doctor" Gaston Smith. For the rest of his life, Gaston Smith was simply known by his first name, the name of his doctor, "Doc."
I guess it could have been worse. The person who delivered him could have been a preacher, a nurse, a fireman, or even a judge.
Oh, just so you know, I did find a way to keep Doc from knowing all of my goings and comings. Many mornings, even though my house was next door to the church, I would drive my car over to the church and park it so Doc could see it. Then, if I had to run home for something, I would use the back door of the church and go into my house's back door. The angle of the church and my house prevented him from seeing my trips home. Once home, I could take our other vehicle and go do what needed to be done.
I've often wondered what Doc thought I was doing for those many hours at the church!
If I had been him, I would have worried far less about what the preacher was up to and would have spent my time thinking: "What in the world were my parents thinking when they named me Doc!"
Can you imagine if he had been an anesthesiologist? Or can you hear the gossip if he had been a milkman?
ReplyDeleteDon't you just love those little churches in those little towns where everyone knows your business or at least likes to tell you what your business should be? Oh, how come you didn't name your son "Sneaky?"
"Sneaky"? Nah...but we did give him the middle name of "William"...Might should have reconsidered that name! Is it too late to change it, I wonder?
ReplyDeleteI am honored that you named your son after me. Even before you knew me...Although when called William I always interject "Bill." I always know when someone who knows me is calling or whether it is some infernal telemarketer. My friends call me Bill.
ReplyDeleteI also further commented to Karma and to you on the Pringles post.
ReplyDeleteDo not deny me! I still think I won!
Three ways for me to tell if the person calling is a telemarketer:
ReplyDelete1) They call my house phone--no one calls that number!
2) They call me by my first name, which I don't go by.
3) They mispronounce my last name. It's not that tough to pronounce--you say it the say it looks...Heart...sill (just like a window sill!)...telemarketers never get it right!
Oh, and if I wanted to add a fourth one:
4) They always call during dinner! No matter what time we are eating!
Just yesterday I got rid of my land line. Hopefully no more calls. I was even on a do not call list. Lot of good that did for political calls.
ReplyDeleteWhen we moved to our neighborhood, the only high speed internet was through the phone company. A week after we signed up, guess what? The cable company called and said, "We're now in your neighborhood!" Great! A week too late. So, we have a land-line, for now. Who needs it?
ReplyDeleteI'm on the same do-not-call lists, but it seems there are dozens of exceptions to the rules about who can and can't call! I have, a couple of times, written to the FCC about companies that continue to call even after being asked to be removed from their calling list...that got their attention!
My mom has aneighbor like that. They have lived in the same neighborhood for over 40 years, and this lady has always made it a point to know everyone's business. She can sit on her front porch and see up to mom's house, and as soon as any of us pull in to visit, the phone will ring. She will let it ring as many as 40 times before she hangs up.
ReplyDeleteIF mom answers, she will be on the phone for 20 minutes or so, just listening.
Oh! There's the story... And worth reading too I might add. Makes me wonder if the people involved in building the pastorium took guys like you into consideration.. or perhaps doc!
ReplyDeleteAm curious though? Why would you have to wait for individuals involved in that story to be dead? Hmmmmmm
Well Camey...pastors aren't supposed to tell such stories on their members, I suppose that's my reason for waiting. People generally don't like pastors telling about their gossiping sins! :)
ReplyDeleteYeah Camey. They know where Steve lives! He would have to be nice to us if we did also. :)
ReplyDeletehey Karma! Did you see my response to you ice cream comment in the Pringles blog?
Funny you mention that... In class one day at seminary we had that very discussion. Talk about a can of worms!
ReplyDeletebill(cycleguy),
ReplyDeleteUt oh! ;)
Camey...I've learned the hard way, I suppose. Just keep the secrets to yourself...don't tell what you know...and what people do.
ReplyDeleteSometimes, the pastor appears to be the dumbest person in the church--nobody thinks he really knows what is going on, when in truth, he usually knows EVERYTHING going on...just can't tell.
Pastorium... I like that.
ReplyDeleteI live there now.
Pastorium sounds an awful lot like insanitorium. :)
ReplyDeleteKarma,
ReplyDeleteThere's more truth to that than you might expect....
And here I thought Pastorium was a common name across the country...I guess many people refer to it as parsonage...but, considering the house I lived in, parsonage was much too nice a name for it!
ReplyDeleteAnd Rick...as you are finding out...the truth is the truth!
I'll have to tell all of you about the time that the Jehovah's Witnesses came witnessing at my pastorium door! Wouldn't you think you could tell who lived there!!!
Remember that football player named "Mister" It was so he would get respect.
ReplyDeleteKevin, I had forgotten about him...
ReplyDeleteI'm not sure the name helped him any, if I am remembering correctly.
Steve,
ReplyDeleteLove you bud! LOVE YOUR BLOG!
Thanks Phil!
ReplyDeleteI'd awarded you a prize for the kindest comment of the day, but if I did, Bill would feel like he deserved it instead. :)
So, I'll just say thank you very much!
And say, you know, you blog is good too...I'm still learning a lot about you and your work! I would definitely encourage my readers to go over and see it (BTW...tomorrow, I base a post on you and Bill...you'll like it, I hope!).
Okay, this is too funny. I decided to link from my main blog. Hope all the preachers come and read it. It so worth their time. selahV
ReplyDeleteThank you Mrs. V.!
ReplyDeleteYou are too kind!