When I concluded my ministry at Epiphany Lutheran Church in Dale City, Va., I prayed for an immediate call within the Metropolitan Washington, D.C., Synod to avoid moving our youngest daughter, who was entering her senior year of high school. But as most pastors will testify, it takes many puzzle pieces coming together for a pastoral call to become available. This meant a period of waiting in prayer and discernment as our bishop and his assistants kept their eyes open for a possible match.
As a father of four students, there was an immediate need for an alternate source of income. I wanted work that would leave me open to the possibility of an instant response to a call should one come about. I also needed something with enough flexibility to allow me to substitute for any of my pastoral colleagues when they needed to take time off.
Driving for Uber, a ride-sharing service, was the perfect solution.
What began as a way to support my family while between pastoral calls turned out to be a different type of ministry during which I reached more people in 18 months than I have ministered to in my 22 years as a pastor.
At first I thought driving for Uber simply meant picking up passengers and dropping them off at their destinations. The only thing Uber expected from me was to safely move its passengers in a clean and friendly atmosphere. Trying to satisfy the “friendly atmosphere” aspect of the contract brought the pastor in me out into the open.
I realized quickly that it shouldn’t be obligatory for me to be friendly to the people that God puts along my path—it should be natural. My ultimate responsibility as a child of God in general, and as a pastor in particular, is to be the connection between people and God.
By the second week of driving, it became crystal clear that I had a new congregation, which would have been around 4,000 members strong by the time I left Uber for my current call. That’s the estimated number of passengers that I transported during my 18 months of full-time driving.
My ultimate responsibility as a child of God in general, and as a pastor in particular, is to be the connection between people and God.
Among the many lessons learned while driving for Uber was the realization that behind the political, racial and religious fray that we’re contending with currently, there are people who are willing to engage in meaningful and uplifting conversations when approached in a nonjudgmental and nonthreatening way.
I was surprised by how willing people were to respond to the small talk that I would initiate, and how often those talks would lead to conversations that left a positive chill on my back by the time we arrived at their destination. Since my driving zone was primarily Washington, D.C., I met all kinds of people, ranging from well-known political and government figures to tourists.
One day I got a ping to pick up someone just outside the White House on Constitution Avenue. As I looked at the passenger details on my phone, I noticed a unique but familiar first name. To my shock, it turned out that I was about to give a ride to a person who had been publicly involved in the campaign for a candidate whose views I vehemently opposed.
This passenger was someone I would never want to associate with, but now he was buckling up and making himself comfortable in the back seat. I hoped it would be a quick trip, but I realized that I was stuck with him for the next 45 minutes, assuming the traffic flow was normal. Why me? Why now?
As it turned out, God had a lesson for me. A few minutes into the trip, I picked up the fortitude to initiate my usual small talk. To my shame, his response was just as human as all my previous passengers. It turned out that the worst thing about him was simply being on the opposite side of the political aisle from me.
He was just as interested in knowing about my background as most previous passengers were. He was just as sincerely grateful for my service to him as any passenger before him. He was just as receptive to my faith insertions as any previous passengers.
By the time I got into my fourth month of driving, I realized that this was as much a calling for me as standing behind the pulpit in the sanctuary was. I was driving people with real joys and sorrows. My passengers included broken and whole people.
The bottom line is that each passenger possessed civility, respect and general goodness that is contrary to what we are confronted with by the media. Most, if not all, had no difference from the parishioners in my congregations before and current.
