the Interview
the Interview
The tall, lean man leaned back in his chair and eyed the interviewee expectantly. It was awkwardly silent in the room. The interviewee was used to the interviewer at least making a pretense of cordiality, a way of breaking the ice and easing tension. This man was giving him none of that. Then he said (as he flipped over to the second page of his binded resume),
“Ok, walk me through this, now. You say you were a pastor before? Can you expand on that, what does ‘pastor’ mean?”
The interviewee squirmed nervously in his chair, clearing a dry lump in his throat (for he hadn’t so much as been offered a glass of water) he began,
“Uh… yessir I’ve been a pastor onto the sheepfold, as it were. I mean, that is, I’ve been pastoring the Lord’s flock. Like a shepherd.”
“Uh-huh. Please expand on that.”
“Why, yessir, of course, sir. You see God has lost little lambs, that is his people. And I have been pastoring them, leading them from sinful death to a life of plentitude and righteousness.”
“Very well said,” replied the interviewer. His demeanor was still somber and grave, “you have a handy way with words, son. Were you also the preacher of your congregation?”
“Why, yessir, I is - I mean, I was. That’s what I meant in saying ‘I am the pastor.’”
The interviewer’s face dried up even more, and taking a deep breath, looking away from the interviewee, he set the resume down on his desk. Then said,
“Now see son, that’s where you’re wrong. A pastor doesn’t talk at his sheep. That would be crazy. A pastor walks before them, clearing the way. Then he stands still and counts them as they march on ahead of him onto safe pasture. He needs to make sure not a one has gone astray. When he is done counting, he feeds them. Once they are fed he corrals them into the sheepfold, so that they are snug, warm, comfortable and safely kept over night. Then he stays up and guards them until about dawn. Just before dawn he takes a restorative nap, but not more than two or three hours, lest he is caught sleeping on the job and his entrusted treasure is jeopardized while he slumbers.
You see, a shepherd never truly rests until the sheep are back in their own fields, in the safety of their pen. But the last thing a pastor will ever do, is talk at his sheep. That’s just crazy. Now that this is clear, let me ask you again: were you a pastor or were you a preacher?”
The interviewee was very nervous, now. Extremely nervous and uncomfortable. Great drops of sweat streamed down his face and into his high-buttoned collar. He replied, with a broken voice,
“With all due respect, sir. That’s where you’re wrong. Pastors do talk to their sheep, they give them hope and edify them with choice words.”
The interviewer did not acknowledge the comment. Picking up the resume once more and turning to the third page he said,
“Moving on, here. I see you were at the helm of a very large church building, perhaps the largest in the world, during a catastrophic time of hurricane flooding, destruction and doom. It says thousands upon thousands in your city, Christian and non-Christian alike, were wiped away by this flood and that you literally held the keys to the largest building anywhere, with a finely-fitted roof overhead. What happened when disaster struck, did you fling open the doors to the cold, the poor, the hungry and the sick in their darkest hour?”
“No, sir, I did not. The building you mention is very expensive, I have spent years and years paying for all the amenities found therein. It is a house of worship and a house of God. I could not open the doors to the godless masses. No, sir, we didn’t even open up for regular Sunday service for fear of the population’s general safety. Instead I posted an inspirational video on our website. People need hope, and they need choice words in times of trouble. They need to be edified by the spirit of praise and the spirit of wisdom.”
“So you gave them praise and wisdom instead of shelter, if I read you correct?”
“Yessir, I fed their souls. For the soul will not perish, though mortal flesh fades away.”
“I see.”
There was a very long pause. The interviewer set the resume down once and for all. He said,
“I don’t believe we have a position for you here, within My organization. Don’t get me wrong son: you may be overqualified to work for Me. You see, I seek humble shepherds, but a true shepherd, a sane shepherd, never talks at his sheep. You are a preacher, a speaker of choice words, and I need action here, not babble. I require deeds and not knowledge. Unfortunately, there is nothing you can teach me. And sheep have never required fine teachings, sheep require a pastor. But before you go getting all upset on Me, now. I got some news for you. The company that is located across the street, Goatshead Insdustries, they’re always looking for guys just like you. You fit their ideal candidate profile to the tee. Let me send you over there with a warm and heartfelt recommendation. When you’re there you wanna ask for Miss Babbie Lonne, she is head of recruiting. From there you get to meet your new boss, if she likes you, which she will. She’ll adore you. You are very likable, very well spoken and are easy on the eyes and on the ears. That’s what they’re looking for at Goatshead. And son… you have nothing to worry about. You’re just their type, and job security is eternal with them.”
the end.
[Excerpt from Creative Power II: Bring God Into It]
