Pounding, Pastry, and PDA

 

(Below is a piece I wrote a few months ago as an essay for the North Carolina Senior Games literary competition.)

The year 2024 marks a special anniversary for me as I have now  served as a pastor for 50 years.  I find myself thinking  back to 1974 when I was first appointed as a United Methodist  pastor.   I was young and was  a few semester hours shy of my bachelors degree when I got the call that I was being appointed to serve as a pastor of 3 United Methodist Churches  in a rural area of eastern North Carolina.    There was so much that was new to me in those early days of pastoral ministry.   While my grandparents lived in a rural area,   I did not.  I grew up in a small North Carolina town.    Though I was licensed to preach (or was a candidate for ministry as they call it today) and had served on church staff for two years, I was new to the role of pastor.

After I had been there a few weeks, I heard some of the folks in the church talking about doing a “pounding” of  their new pastor.    When I heard the word “pounding”, it brought thoughts of being pommelled or beaten up.    I wondered what I had done so badly  in a short time that they were going to pound me!   I soon discovered that while I thought “pounding” was a bad thing, it really was a good thing because one day they placed before me “pounds” of sugar, flour, and other household goods that made the grocery bill much lighter.   

In the Fall, we prepared for Homecoming and Revival Services at the 3 churches.    We had Revival Services for 3 weeks in a row and 3 straight Sundays of Homecoming Services.  While the congregation might have been revived, this new pastor was pretty tired after those 3 weeks.    As that first Homecoming Day approaches, some of the folks in the church talked about “pastry”.     As a small town city boy, my idea of pastry was doughnuts, chocolate eclairs, and the like.  I soon discovered that what they called pastry was what we called at our house chicken and dumplings.   Sometimes,  we can live in the same state and  do not speak the same language.    I did not understand what words like “pounding”  and “pastry”  meant in my early months of being a pastor.  

Today,  it is also true that you can be in the same family  and you do not speak the same language.  Though my wife Ann and I have been married for decades,  it is not unusual for us to show each other  affection around the house.   I recall a time when some of our daughters were teenagers  and my wife and I exchanged a hug and kiss in their presence.    As she  witnessed the moment,  our daughter erupted,  “No PDA.”     I did not know what PDA was until they instructed me some time later that it was an abbreviation for “public display of affection.”       

I continue to seek to be  proficient in use of social media, the internet, and text messaging even though it is challenging for me.   When I was young, text was the scripture the pastor would read in Sunday worship and  online is where Mom hung the clothes after washing them on Monday morning.   I see quite often that there is a different language in those spaces.    Sometimes, our daughters will text me “TIA”   or  “TY”.      I thought they were texting me about a person named Tia or a fella named Ty.     Sometimes,  it seems that I am living in a different land.   TIA for reading  and listening.    -    Randy L. Wall

    

PRAYER --  O God,   thank you for memories, and  for the ability to serve you.   Use me to glorify your name today and everyday;  through Christ our Lord. Amen.