Anam Cara: Part 2 of Several

An Anam Cara is a soul friend. Join me as I share experiences of soul friends that have walked with me in my continuing journey of faith.

My name is Erik, I’m a pastor, I enjoy reading, cooking, going to ball games, and long, slow, reaffirmation of baptismal covenant services on the beach.

The first time I attended such a service, I was in St. Lucia on a mission trip with my youth group. Our last night there, we headed to the beach for some evening relaxation and closing worship. One of the pastors at our church, Rev. Eric Park, led the service, which was centered on reaffirmation of our baptismal covenants and the celebration of Holy Communion. I will never forget that service, particularly because of the way the sacrament of communion was served.

Imagine the sight of 80 senior high youth and adult leaders, worshipping on a Caribbean beach. Now imagine Eric, a bowling ball of a man, leading the service while standing knee deep in the ocean, holding the elements of bread and wine in his outstretched arms and inviting us to the Lord’s Supper. Imagine further that Eric is wearing athletic shorts, a Scooby Doo cut-off t-shirt, and a bandana on his head. This is the scene of one of the most memorable and comical experiences of communion in my life.

Before then, I had received communion countless times. But until that night, I had never seen it administered by someone wearing sleeveless Scooby Doo vestments. Then again, Eric is the type of guy who, as an adult, still reads comic books and watches cartoons, so none of us were in any way surprised at his attire.

As a high school student, I had already begun to sense a call to ordained ministry. However, I was a teenager, so I wasn’t really sure what it all meant. I needed guidance on the matter. Though my parents were pastors themselves, our conversations on the subject seemed guarded. It was almost as if my parents wanted to support my potential call to ministry, but maintain enough distance that I didn’t feel any added pressure to follow in their footsteps. So Eric began to be a person I turned to for guidance.

Occasionally, I would swing by the church after school to chat with Eric. He shared his passions for Star Trek and comic books with me, and I shared my passion for baseball with him. We found (and still find) common ground with Duke basketball, Steelers football, Seinfeld, and a desire to follow Jesus Christ. And sometimes, we would discuss my call to ministry. Eric gave me a lot of great advice, some of which I remember and some of which I’m sure I have long forgotten. Over the years, Eric has remained somewhat of a mentor for me, particularly now that I have begun to fulfill my calling back here in Western PA as one of his colleagues.

Of the many things Eric has taught me, one very important lesson came on that warm summer night on the beach in St. Lucia. That night, as a high school senior, I learned that to be a pastor does not mean one must sacrifice his or her identity. Eric surely knows when wearing the image of a cartoon dog is acceptable, and when a clergy robe is more appropriate for administration of sacraments. But he did teach me that sometimes, we pastors need to let our personalities shine through. Just because I am now a pastor does not mean I must sacrifice who I am, hobbies and wardrobe included. This I know because of a pastor willing to adorn a cut-off t-shirt while administering communion.

On the eve of Thanksgiving, I am thankful for many anam caras, but I am especially thankful for Eric and the important lessons he continues to teach me. How he spells his name may clearly be inferior to the way I spell mine, but I am thankful to have a colleague and a brother in Christ like Eric Park.