Once again - last week, in fact - I was forced to come up with a response to "the question." It shouldn't be that difficult anymore; I have several years worth of responses I can throw out without much thought. Years ago, my response would have been a somewhat lengthy account of my life leading up to, through, and for a year or so following Divinity School. That one ended (finally) with a "but... No, I'm not a Minister." Later I cut this down to the simple statement that, while I had gone to Divinity School, no I was not a Minister. These days, feeling much more confident with the choices I've made along my career path, I mostly just say No and leave it at that. Last night though, when the student cleaning up after a reception at First and Second Church asked me, "Are you a Minister?" I didn't hesitate a moment before blatantly lying to her, "Yes, I am."

We'd been politely conversing, I'd mentioned my work and she'd told me a little about her involvement with the Unitarians. I'd filled my plate; she'd showed me where the bathroom was. And on my way out I'd suggested that we might take the leftover food outside for the three people wrapped in blankets on the steps. And it was then that she asked me, "Are you a Minister?" Knowing she was Unitarian, I heard the capital M loud and clear - the question, that is, referred to my profession, not my action. But I lied and said yes anyway.

The following night, at the youth group overnight, the "Discussion Group" led the rest of us in a discussion of - you guessed it - lying. I didn't fess up then, but afterwards I did admit my shameless misrepresentation privately to one of the youths leading the discussion. His response was pleasantly devoid of any desire to be sensitive to language: "I thought you broke us into groups to plan the overnights because we believe in a shared ministry. And, well, isn't homelessness like, our ministry? And weren't you doing something for the homeless? So, ummm... weren't you ministering and... doesn't that make you a minister?"

One moment I'm defending them and the next they are vindicating me. Surely a better example of Shared Ministry (or shared ministry, or whatever you are comfortable with) would be hard to come by. This description by Dick Gilbert, a UU Minister in Rochester, comes close though: "When Ministers are charged with spiritually nurturing congregations, congregations should be charged as well, to the mutual ministry. Today I am eloquent in the pulpit and brilliant in the church school, and you are spiritually intoxicated with my wisdom; next week I stumble and bumble through my uncertainty and need your forgiveness. Today I am a great rock of comfort in a weary land; tomorrow I am blown about as the sands of the desert and I need the oasis of your strength. Today I dazzle you with my perspicacity; tomorrow I forget our appointment. Blessed are they who minister and blessed are they who are ministered unto. Blessed be the task of the minister. Blessed be the task of the congregation - for ultimately, they are one and the same."

So, ummm... doesn't that make you a minister too?