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Introductions

“Hello, my name is Jennifer and…” is the practice for beginning a confession/admission at an AA meeting.

“Our guest for today is Pastor Jennifer Henry.  She has served…”is the polite introduction heard at past area or church events.

“This is my sister/friend/colleague, Jen” is the casual acknowledgement that puts a name to the face.

But let me ask you:  how do you engage in a conversation with someone who may not actually care who you are because your paths are more parallel than intersecting?  Thirty years ago, when Jerry and I were teaching in China, one of our units was self-introductions with people in the Western culture (from our perspective), especially in an airplane seat or at an international business conference (all our students were majoring in Foreign Trade).  As Jerry and I walked the talk in lesson prep, we discovered that introductions are more complex than straightforward, more protective than revealing, and oftentimes just plain unscripted!

             “Where’re you from?” is how most conversations begin on this cruise ship, followed by the short or lengthy connections “Which part?” or “My brother lives in ____.” Or the befuddled repeat of the name of our state as synapses search.  Then the reciprocity happens with sometimes similar answers. 

               During this dance, the speakers and spouses are weighing subliminal questions that are entirely contextual.  How long will we be seated together around this dinner table, on this bus, in our swimsuits and snorkel gear, or at this bridge table?  What’s the chance that we might see one another again and I need to remember these names and the details?  How genuinely interested are the listeners or is this a fill-in-the-time murmur of voices? Do I want them to know my former profession? Are they listening to talk or listening to learn?

Recently, we were two of about 30 from our ship who were on a tour together, on a large catamaran.  We had our swimsuits under our outer clothing, carried our own snorkel gear and towels, and claimed our spots for the 3-4 hours according to where we were in the lineup.  Jerry and I tend to be at the end of most lines, so we got spots in the sun rather than the coveted seats under the canopy of the cat.  No worries.  We can move around and find other shade when needed.

                   About 30 minutes into the ride, I struck up a conversation with a man and his wife who were from upstate New York.  We shared how thankful we were to not be scooping snow or suffering the cold at our designated homes.  Then he mentioned that he was in the medical field and grateful to no longer be  on-call at all hours and unable to have a simple drink over supper in case he was called out. When asked, he said he was an orthopedic surgeon.  I shared a similar relief of not being on call, adding that I was one of those pastors who prayed surgeons and patients through those surgeries, was bedside before and after—even in ER and ICU.  He leaned into me and said, “I am SOOOO mad at religion!”  When I didn’t react or respond, he continued, “I am SOOOO mad at God!”  I continued to listen sensing that he was on a roll.  “I was raised Methodist.  I loved praying.”  Then, after a breath, “I miss praying.  I don’t know who I would be praying to.”  And he launched into how the Big Bang has now been proven and that there really aren’t any miracles anyway.  At that point, we were interrupted by the tour.  About an hour later, he and I were together again.  He continued where he left off with other proven theories and his educated classes in philosophy.  Then he paused, tipped his head, and said a bit helplessly, “Pastor, you’re supposed to be helping me, aren’t you?” His connotation was that I was to be preaching at him, admonishing him, or being some sort of judgmental.  I just smiled and replied a bit wistfully but with certainty, “Nooo. I think I’m just supposed to be listening to you.”  Circumstances once again interrupted us, and we didn’t see each other again until we were disembarking the tour.  He smiled at me and said, “See you, Sweets.”  I was okay with the moniker. I believe it’s the beginning of a relationship that may not be based on who we have been.  

             What an unusual introduction. Perhaps it’s my new normal, as similar discussions have presented themselves.  I pray for wisdom and grace.