Preacher boys occupy the lowest rung on the fundamentalist ministry ladder.  Above them are the youth minister, Sunday School superintendent, music minister, associate pastor, senior pastor, and finally, pastor of the church that runs the bible college where the senior pastor got his degree. Below them is everybody else.

There are not many qualifications for being a preacher boy other than having had the call to preach — a mysterious and mystic experience wherein the preacher boy transforms from being one of the regular Joes who merely go to church to being one of the chosen few who get to scrape gum off of the bus seats first thing each Monday morning. The call is also accompanied by an affinity for wearing dark suits, carrying gospel tracts in a  front shirt pocket, and begging for chances to preach at every possible opportunity. Since there is no age requirement, anyone from thirteen to ninety-three is welcome to take up the mantle and the gum scraper.

Preaching is, of course, the natural goal of all preacher boys and they do it with vigor at every possible opportunity.  Friends, family members, co-workers, and even random people on the street become test audiences for a fledgling preacher’s forrays into the exciting world of crying aloud with a voice like a trumpet.  As a last resort groups of preacher boys will even practice preaching at each other, even though they all know that they don’t really need it.

Someday, when the time is right and the door opens,  some of these fine young men will actually enter full-time ministry. For the others, there’s always insurance sales. After all, they’ve already got the suits.

Thanks to John for the topic idea.