A Phrase To Always Have Handy

A few weeks ago I sat down to eat lunch with a friend I very rarely get to see. Just as we got settled, a friend of hers popped over with her tray. “Are you having a meeting?” she asked.

Well, no. We were having a girlfriendy catch-up lunch. So what can you do? Good manners dictate that you welcome the friend and have the meal together.

Of course the best solution if you want alone time with a friend or colleague is to find somewhere private where you won’t be interrupted. Except that, when you’re clergy, you’re very frequently interrupted — but even more frequently than that, YOU will be the one interrupting. And here’s why: if you’re out and about and stopping for a meal or a coffee on your own or with a friend, you are very likely to run into a parishioner. It would be the height of rudeness not to say hello, and you should walk over and do just that.
However, you will then find yourself in the awkward position of either being invited to, or leaving someone else with the vaguely uneasy feeling that they ought to, invite you to sit with them.

If you have a good relationship with that person and you would find it a pleasant experience to hang out with them, by all means accept the invitation! I’ve done this many times and it’s a great bonus to my solitary life.

However, if you both know that they would rather share the meal with their date/spouse/friend/juicy novel and you don’t feel in your gut that either of you really wants to spend the time together, memorize these magical words,

“OH THANK YOU, BUT I DIDN’T WANT TO INTERRUPT YOU, I JUST WANTED TO STOP BY AND SAY ‘HELLO.'”

Sometimes it’s just that you need a breather. If that’s the case, you need to beat it out of there to save both of you the weirdness of eating alone across a café from each other. If the invitation came from a parishioner dining with a friend, leave them to their meal and eat yours alone with your book or your Bible or whatever. You don’t need to make excuses: you’re being considerate of the fact that two friends have a date and you’re not going to horn in on it.

Yesterday I went for a late lunch to our local pub and ran into two friends from town who were going to lunch together. We have socialized before and I love them, but I know how busy they are and didn’t want to assume that they wanted a third, even though I know we’re all friends. So I walked in with them and sat at the bar. They said, “We’re getting a table” and I said, “Well, enjoy! It was so good to see you both!” One of them looked at me and said teasingly, “What? You don’t like us?” And I said, “Of course I do! I just know that you’re both busy and didn’t know if wanted some private time to catch up!” We wound up having lunch together but I’m glad I didn’t assume that they wanted me to join them.

There are times when I’ve said to people, “May I join you?” but that is VERY RARE and never with parishioners. I accept their invitation if they make it, but I remain sensitive to the fact that having your clergyperson at the table changes the dynamics of the outing. It also becomes work time for me, and sometimes I just want to have a slice of pizza and read PEOPLE magazine, you know what I mean?

This is why I never go out to eat without a book in my purse. “Oh no, thanks so much but you enjoy your meal, I’ve got this book I’m reading.”
You can see the relief in people’s faces sometimes. But if you sense that the inviter is hurt by your rejection, put that book away immediately and get to work being a charming dinner or lunch companion.

As in all things, use your best judgment.

I remember running into my geometry teacher at a McDonald’s several towns away when I was 17. My father had just died and my teacher said, “Let’s sit together!” He was the world’s shyest man and it was like, “Legendary Moments In Awkward Silence” but you know what? It meant a lot to me. So I take it back about being a charming companion. Just be yourself.