Attention is the rarest and purest form of generosity. – Simone Weil

After hearing me preach for the first time, Ellsworth looked down at my feet and said, “A man who isn’t afraid to wear cowboy boots in the pulpit is a man I will give a listen.” I glanced at my feet and then at his. His boots were black. He was a deacon in my first pastorate. He taught me about being a pastor, which had nothing to do with footwear.

I remember sitting with him and drinking coffee in silence. I counted the clock’s ticks on the wall, thirty metrical ticks between sentences. Ellsworth slurped his Folgers and stared out the window. We never talked much, but this is where I learned the most important lesson in being a pastor. He never complimented a sermon, he never challenged my theology, he never asked me for counsel, and he never encouraged me. The closest he ever came was after church one Sunday, he said, “Preacher, God rarely gets in a hurry.”

I learned that the unrushed presence of Jesus is the greatest gift a pastor can give to anyone.

After three and a half years, I moved to a different state and changed shoes.

Aside from the obvious list that you might learn in seminary, like holding confidences, being faithful to the creeds, being prepared to preach, staying away from finances, not exaggerating too much in sermons, and keeping your lust at a discreet level—there is another way to measure trust. It is deeper. It goes unseen but is not unknown.

Congregants can smell an anxious pastor like polar bears smell seal pups. They may not be able to articulate the feeling they get from the aroma of a pastor on the move, but they know not to put their full weight on him. And anxiety begets anxiety.

A couple of thoughts for pastors:

• Always value vulnerability over posing.
• Always value reflection over knowledge.
• Always value presence over vision.
• Always value wisdom over knowledge

A couple of thoughts for congregations:

• Invite your pastor into your home for a cup of Folgers with no agenda.
• Pray for your pastor when he irritates you.
• Give your pastor the mercy and grace you want given to you.
• Listen for a Galilean accent when your pastor speaks.

I Heard the Owl Call My Name is a best-selling 1967 novel by Margaret Craven. I’ve given away dozens of copies of the book to young pastors. The book tells the story of a young Anglican priest named Mark Brian who, unbeknownst to him, has not long to live. He learns about the meaning of life and how a group of people can teach him how to be their pastor when he is sent to a First Nations community in British Columbia. He learns to be at home in his own skin and to be himself and present to the people, who then become present to him.

When pastors find their place in the belovedness of the divine Groom, their anxiety diminishes, and the Bride of Christ responds by walking through her community with the soft sound of sandaled feet.

And that is the best footwear ever.