My Surreal Moment

Coming through the Cincinnati airport Saturday night, Tanya and I spied Tony Campolo sitting in a shoeshine chair (sans anyone to shine his shoes) talking on his cell phone. I quickly handed Tanya my iPhone and told her to take my picture. Walking over to him confidently I said, "Keep talking, but can she take my picture with you?" "Hang on," he said to the person on the other side of the conversation and then he said, "Sure." Explaining to his cellular counterpart that he had to take a photo with someone he put the phone down without hanging up and asked me for my name. I told him who I was and confessed that I am one of those right wingers he's always ranting about. "Keep talking," I told him, as if it were possible for him to keep up his conversation on the phone while Tanya and I digitally assaulted him.

At precisely the moment Tanya snapped this shot, less than thirty seconds after approaching him, Dr. Robert Smith, arguably the finest preacher in America, walked over. "Dr. Tony Campolo. Dr. Hershael York" he said in his sonorous basso profundo. I quickly whispered in Campolo's ear who Robert is and mentioned that he teaches at Beeson. Tony put the phone to his mouth, though not to his ear, and said something like, "I'm getting all these guys from seminaries here," then put it back down. Campolo mentioned that he is preaching in Atlanta today and will be in Birmingham sometime next week. I chose not to tell him my schedule.

We thanked him and walked away with Robert, who is a dear friend, because I had something to ask him, but it was a hilarious moment (and not much more than a moment). Skulk around the nearest airport on a Saturday evening and you are likely to find seminary professors and preachers of all kinds roaming the concourses