One of the reasons why I quit marching band my junior year of high school was because I got chastised by my director for doing something that pastor's kids shouldn't be doing. I don't remember it being all that bad. I think my friends and I were just goofing off, and the band director pulled me aside and said that he expected more out of me because my dad's a pastor.
I wish this were an isolated incident. I wish that that was the first time that had been said to me.
But it wasn't.
Growing up in a pastor's household is very much like growing up with a target on your chest. A scarlet letter. A stigma. People are always watching your every move, seeing if you're going to mess up, and then they'll have a story to tell at their small group about how the pastor's kid screwed around again.
It's like a fishbowl. Everyone in the church gets to watch how the kids act, if they're representing their parents well, and offer their two-cents like, "Aren't you pastor's kids supposed to be doing _____?"
I got so tired of hearing that. Wherever my parents went, my siblings and I went. Whether it was small-group, cleaning up the building, doing a house call, or anything. We were just as much the pastors as our parents were. Yeah, we might not have had the spiritual maturity and level that they had, but we were physically present wherever they went. It was not just Jon and Kitty coming over. It was Jon and Kitty, and David, Michael, and Jaclyn.
We were the first family of the church. People got to admire us when we did something good and scold us if/when we did something bad. Typically, it was me, the middle child, that was messing up, but that's another story altogether.
If the church needed a babysitter, probably for free, we stepped in.
If the church needed a thorough cleaning, again for free, we offered our hands.
If the church needed anything, we were there.
Oh, the church needs to be set up for service? Okay, great, we can do that. I remember David and I getting coerced with the promise of donuts and chocolate milk to help set up and tear down at the school our church met at before we had our own building. I mean, we could have said no, but it's hard to resist the sweet aroma of Publix donuts and chocolate milk. (Side note, this was before I was lactose intolerant, so I look back at those days of enjoying dairy to the fullest with fondness)
Before you begin to feel sorry for me and how much work I had to do for the church, let me also say that I love the church. I haven't always loved the church, for obvious and other reasons, but on the whole, I wouldn't trade my life for anything else.
Because I was very much involved in the church, I got to see things from a perspective that not many do. I got to see the sheer joy that it brought my father to be able to baptize his children. I got to worship with my mother. I got to preach. I've seen the ugliness of church, to be sure, but I've also seen the pure beauty of it all.
For all its blemishes, the church is still a place where God resides and by mere association with God, it is a holy institution. The church is a wonderful place.
Sure, pastor's kids probably get a pretty bad deal with the whole situation. I don't know if I would choose to be a pastor's kid again. But that's not necessarily my decision to make. I have been placed into this family, whether by accident or on purpose is up to your view of providence, but I can choose to make the best of it. I can choose to act in a way that people don't have to ask, "Aren't you a pastor's kid?" That might be legalism, but I like to think of it as accountability. If someone tells me that what they see me doing seems a little off, then maybe it is.
Here are some final thoughts and ideas that I wish that I had while I was going through it.
1) I am not the pastor. I don't have to act like my parents. I don't have to be the shepherd. But I can act like a pastor, that is I can try to live my life with the mindset that Christ has liberated me from the bondage of sin and is constantly transforming and renewing me in His image. I can be a minister in my own rite, thanks to the priesthood of all believers, but it is not my role to be the pastor of Franklin Vineyard Church.
2) It's okay to not be on. There was always a pressure being the PK to be the one to lead prayer, devotional, small groups, or to pray over someone during ministry time. This is great. It's a value that needs to be instilled in the younger generation that there is work to be done and that the momentum has to be continued. However, it's okay to say no to someone. There are going to be days when I'm not feeling up to snuff, and I don't have to pretend like I have it all together because I'm a pastor's kid. I can still go to church and experience the throne room of God. Take a break. For real.
3) There is a difference between being involved in the church and with. By no choice of my own, I was in the church. But I do have a decision to act with and for the church.
4) The church, like all people, is fallible. There are going to be times when people suck. There's no better way to put it other than people are going to hurt the church, my parents, and me. They might even attack all three, and it's really tough to love the church when there's so much feuding going on. But, God is sovereign. What does that mean? Well it's that God is in charge of the situation, the Lord over all.
I'm sure that there are plenty of other things that I could write, but I wanted to get this off my chest and open up the forum for discussion. If you would like to talk about your wounds from the church, victories through the church, and anything in between, please feel free to comment below or to me personally.
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