Do you remember the stupid stuff you did when you were a kid? I'm not talking about wetting the bed or spilling your milk; I mean the things that you did in public, the things that were known in the community and, perhaps, even gave you a reputation. Maybe you were arrested for some prank, or you were kicked off the football team for drinking, or maybe, on a dare, you streaked the high school lunchroom. Whatever.
The point is, a reputation is a hard thing to shake. Even as a fully grown adult, when you go back home, the people still whisper: "There's Bill Smith, he got busted for ‘dining and dashing' back in '72." No wonder so many people move away from their hometown when they grow up! It's less humbling that way.
In high school, I was known as "The Class Clown." Now there's a shock! I was forever cutting up in class, telling jokes, making smart comments. When I arrived in biology class on the first day, the teacher took role, and when she came to my name, she said "Steve, I've heard about you, and you've got one chance. If you smart off in my class, you're out of here." Well, I lasted about a week. When Mrs. McMartin asked if someone could define the word "dilute" I said that it was a city on the shore of Lake Superior. Hello, study hall!
But as my life began to change, some people wouldn't let me change. I came to faith in Christ and got serious about ministry, but people still saw me as a clown. I decided to go to seminary and they whispered "That's Steve Molin, he was tossed off the college hockey team in '68." When I got ordained, some supposed that I would show up as Guido Sarducci of the Saturday Night Live skit. Is it any wonder then that my first ministry job was in Rochester, some 70 miles from home? Or that my next call was to Sioux Falls, 250 miles from here. Or that next, I traveled 1600 miles away to serve in Salem, Oregon. In Salem, they loved me. In Sioux Falls, they took me seriously. But seven years ago, I came back home, and I can't tell you how many times I have run into people from my high school who have said "Really? Steve Molin? A Lutheran pastor?" As I said, it's hard to shake a reputation.