IN THE BARS

As a few readers may remember, and long-time friends know, I do Bar Nights here in the Ruby Valley.

It all started during the interview process when one of the parishioners asked how I felt about visiting the bars in my collar. I said something like, "That sounds like it could be fun." So shortly after my arrival, I began visiting the bars. Knowing a good thing when I hear it, and knowing that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, I hijacked . . . um . . . borrowed . . . the name "Theology on Tap" from a program I heard about while still in seminary.

The difference, though, is that the Chicago-land version had a specific program attached to it. Here, it's just me. I'm not about to march into a bar and offer Holy Communion on the pool table. Instead, I march into the bar and get involved in conversations about "God, the church, theology, football or whatever is on your mind." It's worked out fairly well. I've had some good nights and some not so good nights. I've had deep conversations and no conversations. And now, I almost never have to buy my own beer.

This little activity of mine has become something of Montana clergy lore. It seems the clergy here are just as fascinated with the whole thing as are the barflies in Sheridan and Virginia City.

So, getting back to the idea that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, I ran across this article today. It seems that one of my Montana colleagues has decided Bar Nights might be a good idea. It just so happens that he lives in the Big City, so he gets the publicity.

Ah well . . . at least I know I inspired someone.