Please don't make it a game...

I am grateful to be home for a few days with my father for Father's Day. When I am home, I think I ought to do what he wants us to do -- a concept called "Cherish Every Minute". So today, I was with the Triple L's for lunch. That's my home church's "Living Longer and Loving It" group. Many of these adults are the people that I knew growing up. Amost 50 years ago when my father was the pastor here, I babysat for their children. They led my junior choir and taught children's SS classes and Vacation Bible School. So having a meal with them is like a family reunion.
Today had the added feature of being an occasion to meet the newly appointed pastor. Since the new pastor doesn't begin until this coming Sunday, I was not surprised at the big turnout to meet the new preacher. One of my favorite people came up to me and said, "I put him to the test!"
"What are you talking about?" I asked.
"The new preacher." She replied. "I stopped by the church and met him yesterday. Today, I walked up to him and said, 'This is a test. Do you remember what my name is?" I love this woman. I have loved and respected her for decades. But I said, "PLEASE do not do that. Please, please, please do not do that. It's not fair. You have 2 names to remember and he has 1200. You should tell him your name right off the bat for at least the first 3 months."
She may have thought I was kidding. But I am not. One of the most unkind things people do is put new preachers on the spot to know their name. It is, for them, just what this lady said: a test. And it's an unfair test. I used to tell people to make a choice: voluntarily introduce yourself or don't change clothes for the first six months. People have no idea how hard it is to get names, faces, families and circumstances together in a new situation.
I rarely am in a group setting where someone doesn't come up and start a conversation like this: "You don't remember me, do you?" I have stopped apologizing when I don't recognize people because most of the time they remember me from sometime I was preaching. They were in a congregation of several hundred. Often I learn that I had not actually been introduced to them personally. But yet their opening line is often, "You don't know me, do you?"
I know that everyone wants to feel that they are special. The truly special people will patiently, consistently take the initiative to introduce themselves to a new preacher and find ways to test their new pastor on something more important: the quality of their sermons, the virtues of their example and the depth of their prayer life.