At the one of the churches in which I was a pastor, there was a dignified man, very devoted to the church, involved in Christian education, and genuinely concerned for the well-being of others.  He served as an elder in the congregation, and took seriously the role of spiritual leader. His prayers at the communion table always were relevant and eloquent.

One day following an elder’s meeting, he lingered to speak with me about a concern.  Our conversation ranged beyond the matter he expressed to me, and after we had spoken for quite some time he shared something about himself that he insisted I keep confidential.

He was a clown.

Yes, that’s right.  He told me he was a clown.  He spent time at pediatric wards and other places where there were children, especially children with some sort of difficulty or need.  He visited them, painted their faces, performed simple magic tricks, played games with them – anything he could think of to bring them a little happiness.

This man told me he attended clown conventions and even wrote a regular column in a related national publication.  As you may have guessed, I was astounded to learn of this aspect of the man’s life.  I’m not quite sure why he insisted it remain a secret, but I was honored that he took me into his confidence.

People have many ways by which they give expression to their faith.  Their lives are complex, and spiritual gifts vary from individual to individual.  It’s always wonderful to see when a person finds his or her niche, and that they derive a sense of fulfillment from the ways they share the love of Christ with others.  Some teach Sunday school.  Some sing or play music.  Others visit homebound folks.  Still others drive people to their doctor’s appointments, or take them shopping.  All are vital ways of bringing light into someone’s life.

And some, simply put, are clowns.