“…they knew that they were naked; and they sewed fig leaves together and made themselves coverings.”
— Genesis 3:7
I didn’t resign from the ministry because it had become a fig leaf. I’m not sure any pastor does. But the net effect is the same. When the fig leaf is pulled away, shame creeps up from under your skin and reddens your face.
I’ve been asked where that fig leaf has gone for about two weeks now.
“Why are you no longer a pastor?”
And I instinctively feel the need to justify myself – this woman you gave me made me eat. Just saying something simple without any details feels like a death. And I’m beginning to think maybe it’s supposed to.
I’ll find another fig leaf somewhere. Maybe it will be excellence in banking. Being able to understand all the little details and addendums could be it. Maybe it will be family. Maybe it will be money (that would be nice.) Maybe it will be my resignation from the pastorate…not being a pastor. Being a former one.
Any one or collection of them will do.
When it happens, my hope is that I will have eyes to see my own foolish desire to cover my shame. And when I’m strutting around in it like I’m something, I wanna have ears to hear when the preacher points and says – he’s only wearing a fig leaf!