For as long as I can remember, people have made a point to refer to me as a ‘Pastor’s Kid’. And nearly every time someone said, “Oh, you’re a ‘PK’”, I was caught off guard by the label. Other ‘PK’ who found out my dad was a pastor would often say, ‘You’re a ‘PK’ like me!” implying there was a shared experience that linked us all. While I recognized this statement was true, I felt most meant something by it that I didn’t identify with.

There is a common conception that being a pastor’s kid has a set of inherent pressures and a whole list of pathologies are attributed to being a ‘PK’. Rebellion and resentment manifesting themselves in issues with authority, drug use, unhealthy relationships, and the like.

I’ve found myself reflecting on these things as my days as a Pastor’s Kid were coming to a close. On March 18, my dad officially ‘retired’ from his position as Senior Pastor of New Hope Church of Rancho Peñasquitos. Sunday, March 4 was his last official sermon under that title.

Originally, he mentioned taking three or four months to do some debriefing and then getting on with whatever work he was going to be doing in the next chapter of his life, which didn’t seem short or long to me. The time frame made sense because I never really expected Joe Rhodes to retire. He often said he didn’t ever really believe in retiring. And truthfully, he would emphatically say he isn’t retiring. Rather, he’s in ‘transition’. Whatever he wants to call it, it’s strange. A few months back he asked what I thought about him taking a nine month ‘sabbatical’ instead of three or four months away. I thought this sounded fantastic! After 37 years, nine months was nothing. How much fun to really get away. But it also occurred to me that he’s really not going to be a pastor anymore. Joe Rhodes will always be pastoral. He will naturally share people’s burdens  and care for people, formally and informally. But the nitty gritty, running a church, being on-call to serve a couple hundred people at any given time role is over.

Certain occupations carry an exceptional amount of responsibility and expectations in our culture. Pastors are assumed to be the standard bearer of morality in their community even though most would say they struggle and sin just like anyone else. Pastors are the ones people apologize to for cussing in public. The “oops, sorry pastor” after an errant F-bomb symbolizes the pedestal of righteousness pastors have been hoisted onto by virtue of their title. For years, my dad was on a rotating schedule of pastors that would pray at my high school’s graduation. Plenty of teachers or administrators could have given the blessing but in the eye’s of the community, my dad’s title made him uniquely qualified.

This cultural characterization is probably what made people expect certain kinds of behavior from me as their son and assume I was a ticking time bomb of defiant behavior. Truthfully, I wasn’t the well-behaved yet sheltered and repressed PK simmering with resentment. The only thing my pastor dad and pastor’s wife mom seemed to shelter me from were those pressures and expectations. Their beliefs and values were very clear but they never seemed to fear me pushing the boundaries of what others thought was acceptable. This freedom carved out space for me to discover how their beliefs and values were the best ones available and choose them as my own. How I looked and spent my time – ear piercings, hair dye, Melrose Place, punk rock shows that sent me home smelling like a chain smoker – and many other decisions were left up to me. Their focus was on helping me understand people, why we make certain choices, and how to treat others well without expectations.

Of course, things like respecting authority, doing my best in school, and avoiding destructive behaviors were layered in. And staples of the Christian life like Bible reading and prayer were normative, although awkward family devotions were thankfully avoided. (How and why to do those is a discussion for another time.) But the freedom to be myself, to look goofy, to make a lot of my own lifestyle choices without the pressure to conform to an idea others had about what pastors and their families should look like, might just be the greatest gift Joe and Tricia Rhodes gave me as a ‘PK’.

I always felt my parents’ work life was the expression of a vibrant, authentic reality, rather than the source of some stale facade or a burdensome yoke I had to live under. They were intentional about making sure I knew following Jesus was a first a matter of the heart and mind. When I decided God could have all of me and was ready to let him shape my future willingly, I discovered what made my parents so content and was excited to share my experiences with them. I wasn’t looking for affirmation because I already had it.

As the days of their pastoral ministry come to an end, I thank God Joe and Tricia Rhodes loved Jesus and cared how their very public faith would impact me. I’m grateful not to identify with the expectations and resentments its seems so many have fought as pastor’s kids. Most of the stories I hear do have happy endings when the child sees the error of their rebellious ways, forgives the mistakes of their overbearing parents, and find their own way back to God. I’m happy to have avoided much of the hurt and sorrow those years carry with them. Not to mention, the foundation of friendship and trust I have with my dad paved the way for our partnership in ministry.

The weirdest of all the changes that are coming is the next nine months without my dad’s involvement in Discovering Light. His ‘transition team’ has issued strict orders to keep his distance from New Hope Church and even our separate work in Ethiopia. For starters, they want him to enjoy a time away from ministry that others have learned can only happen when one is completely detached. Second, he will have the space to discern new callings, and renew old ones. We are excited for the upcoming season of unknowns. I joked the other day that my dad will come back and get to be a Grandpa-Pastor, loving the people at New Hope and staying involved without having to bring any of our junk home with him. Professional hand-shaker and baby-holder. And while he’s ‘gone’ for a time, I fully expect mysterious inquiries from someone with a name like Rho Jodes, requesting detailed news from Southeast Ethiopia.

Regarding Ethiopia, more trying times have come this nation we love so much. Opposing ethnic groups are battling for control of the country’s future, including the Arsi Oromo, part of the broader Oromo tribe. The Oromo are seeking more representation in the federal government and more influence in the stewardship of Ethiopia’s resources. In late February, a state of emergency was declared by the government for the second time in 18 months. Travel and communication is restricted with the intention to protect the country from potentially violent uprising. The Oromo, and other marginalized tribes feel their voice is being suppressed even more by the state of emergency. The Prime Minister recently resigned and the nation is in limbo. Discovering Light’s partners continue to carry out their mission while adapting to the current conditions. During the last state of emergency the thresher businesses were sidelined for one of the two yearly harvest seasons. We are awaiting word on their status this time around. Churches and Discovery Bible Studies continue to grow as they are inherently resilient to external challenges. The impact on the savings groups is also yet to be seen. We have a strong sense of God’s purpose in the relationships we have established in Ethiopia during the last eight years. Our prayer is for the nation to be spared from bloodshed and for the shaking and shifting to contribute to Ethiopia’s renewal.

Much more work is to be done in the horn of Africa to that end. I am confident and thankful that former pastor Joe Rhodes will be involved.