I Am a Pastor: One More Thing I Learned From Mr. Scott

In my previous post, I shared three things I learned from my high school math teacher and cross country/track coach, Bob Scott. But there was one other thing that I learned from Mr. Scott that I thought worthy of sharing. You see, Mr. Scott will probably never be a footnote in someone’s history book, let alone highlighted. He did not conquer the world like Alexander the Great, Napolean, or Hitler, or revolutionize some industry like Ben Franklin, Henry Ford, or Steve Jobs. He was a math teacher and cross country/track coach at a relatively small high school in northeast Iowa.

But the people who knew Bob Scott were indelibly impacted by him.

They were impacted by his patient faithfulness. Was he the most gifted mathematician ever? Certainly not. Was he the most successful or prominent coach in the world? He coached cross country and track, for goodness sake. He was honored as Coach of the Year by the Iowa State High School Athletic Association, but when I searched their website to find out which year it was, they did not have archives beyond the last five years. So while he may be a footnote in some historical archive somewhere, he will probably never be remembered by the general populace. Yet, every day, he showed up and did his work well. And because he did, his students learned their math, his athletes experienced the joy of running, and the world is a better place.

They were impacted also by his concern. My wife will tell you that she is not a fan of math. During her junior year, she and I were in the same math class, along with our friend Wendy S. For Wendy and I, math came relatively easily. Unfortunately for my wife, we sat on either side of her and goofed off through the entire class. Of course, Mr. Scott recognized this, and so he would occasionally harass my wife about disrupting class when, in reality, it was Wendy. Always Wendy. (Coincidentally, I have some oceanfront property in western Iowa that I would love to give you a great deal on!) But at the end of class, he would always come to my wife’s desk, kneel down in front of her, and patiently help her with any questions or problems she had. Such was the concern that he had for his students, athletes, and neighbors. And the result was that my wife and countless others passed math and went on to do great things in life.

And they were impacted by his sense of humor. Mr. Scott was known for calling his runners “Buzzards.” When he caught us goofing around instead of practicing hard, we were “buzzards.” When we pulled a prank on him or someone else, we were “buzzards.” When we were just kicking back and laughing, we were “buzzards.” One day, I did the unthinkable: I called him a buzzard. In an instant, it was like all the oxygen was sucked out of the entire room as everyone waited to see what he would do. His response, though, was to chuckle. “Okay,” he said, “if I’m Buzzard, then you must be… Gizzard!” And wouldn’t you know it, the nicknames stuck. For the next three years, he was “Buzzard,” and I was “Gizzard.” I can still remember his laugh, which taught me to never take myself or the craziness of life too seriously. Otherwise, life is just no fun.

Pastor, perhaps today you are frustrated that your church is not experiencing the explosive growth of some churches and your name is not headlining the next big conference. I would submit to you, though, that simply showing up day in and day out and faithfully ministering to the men and women God sets in your path is enough. You will make a difference. I would suggest that being authentically concerned with the people around you, as opposed to milking the people around you for what you want or need, is the key to changing the world. And make sure to maintain a sense of humor. The world already has enough stuffy pastors who think themselves important.

Do these things, and the chances are pretty good that someone, someday, will look back on your life and say that you made a profound impact on them, too. And maybe that is the key. We may not be able to change the whole world for everyone, but we can absolutely change everything for a few.