Ron Dewitt, a reserved and humble man, is visibly self-conscious as an interview subject.

"I can't say I was looking forward to this," he says, "I'm not too comfortable talking about myself and what I do. I'd much rather be out there doing it instead of talking about it."

Although reluctant, Dewitt is inviting and kind as he discusses his pastoral duties, community outreach, and Tyson ministry.

"I have to have some ministry beyond the four walls of the church," Dewitt says.

His opportunity to do just that came almost 14 years ago from Tyson Foods.

In the late 1990s and early 2000s, Dewitt and his church, the First Church of the Nazarene, looked to begin a Hispanic ministry. Dewitt says it was around that time that he was contacted to be part of Tyson Foods' chaplaincy program.

"I felt like this was a great opportunity to minister to the Hispanic population," Dewitt said.

Dewitt and another local pastor, David Carerra, began to serve as on-site chaplains for the processing plant employees.

According to the Tyson Foods website, "Faith-friendly is in our culture at Tyson Foods. Most of our team members come to work with spiritual commitments. Here at Tyson Foods, these faith and spiritual commitments are valued and respected.

"The chaplains provide compassionate pastoral care and ministry to team members and their families, regardless of their religious or spiritual affiliation or beliefs."

"They want us to minister to the emotional and spiritual side of the team members," Dewitt says.

He uses a hypothetical, though not unlikely, situation to illustrate his point.

"For example," Dewitt begins, "a guy could be getting ready for work, and his wife could say to him, 'Go ahead and go into work, but when you get home, me and the kids won't be here.'

"Well, if the guy doesn't go into work, he'll lose his job. So when he comes in, he's a basket-case. The supervisor will see that and ask if he wants to talk to a chaplain. We talk to them, pray with them, and listen to them."

When asked what being a chaplain is like, Dewitt replies, "A lot of our ministry centers around prayer. When I go in, I'll have 10 or more people asking me to pray for them."

The chaplains at Tyson minister to all ethnicities, nationalities, and faiths — and Dewitt has the stories to prove it.

"We're there to help regardless of faiths," Dewitt says. "We have Buddhists, Hindus, Muslims, Coptic Christians, Catholics, Protestants, and non-believers.

"Truthfully, I do exactly over at Tyson what I do over here [at the church]. I just may be ministering and praying with a Buddhist or a Muslim."

One memorable encounter with a Muslim woman is prominent in Dewitt's mind, and he begins to tell a tale of loss, heartbreak, and friendship in spite of differing faiths.

"One day someone came to me and said, 'Brother Ron, are you aware we have a Somalian lady whose husband just died?' I said, 'No, I wasn't,' and I went to find her. I found her in the break room and sat down beside her."

Dewitt explains how he had to take great care with her due to the tenets of the Muslim faith prohibiting male and female touching of any kind.

"She could speak some broken English, so I used gestures and small words to communicate with her."

Dewitt inquired about her husband, and the woman pulled a piece of paper from inside her robes.

"It was a form letter from Somalia," Dewitt explains. "It had her name at the top and her husband's name at the bottom, and all it said was that her husband was dead — no details, no explanations."

Dewitt goes on to tell more of the woman's story.

"During the Somalian unrest, she was a refugee," he says. "She was beaten and raped again and again."

He then explains how she was brought to the U.S. by a Christian group whose purpose is refugee relocation. Dewitt holds up four fingers in succession and counts as he says, "She has a child in Russia, one in Somalia, one in the Sudan, and one in Kenya. Her kids are scattered; her husband is dead — and her story is only one of many I've seen at Tyson."

Dewitt shakes his head sadly. He makes a "praying" gesture with his hands to show how he asked if he could pray with her.

"She said, 'Oh, please, oh please,' and I told her, 'I pray in Jesus' name,' because she's Muslim, but she said, 'That's good, that's good.' So I prayed with her."

"That's been about four or five years ago, and now we're great friends," says Dewitt. "When she comes in to work, she will ask how I am. She knows my daughter, Lori, is in New Zealand, and she always takes the time to ask about my family."

Dewitt learned the Somalian word for "friend," and one day used it in conversation with her.

"I told her, 'You're my saaxiib.'"

The widowed woman shook her head at Dewitt. He recalls her words with his hand over his heart, "She told me, 'No, no you're not saaxiib. You're my brother.'" Dewitt grins broadly and says, " So, you see, we've been able to form a lot of neat relationships."

Participating as a workplace chaplain has changed Dewitt's perspectives and ministry.

"Without this ministry," Dewitt says, "I'd be a different pastor, and in all honesty, I'd be much less effective.

"Being outside the box has changed me for the better, and it's changed the church. I've realized how segregated I was. I've become much more compassionate; much more sympathetic. It's a neat thing, and something a lot of other pastors will never get to experience."

The unique experience Dewitt refers to is the opportunity to speak and minister to many faiths and nationalities. Hispanic, Middle Eastern, Somalian, Egyptian, and Nepalese employees all make up the team at Tyson, and Dewitt listens to and ministers to them all.

"I get to travel the world and never leave town!" quips Dewitt.

To give examples, Dewitt tells of a few interactions with people from around the world.

"We have a lot of Nepalese people," Dewitt says, "and they had that earthquake recently. I spent time ministering to them.

"We have a lot of Egyptians that are Coptic Christians. They are here because in Cairo, they are abused and murdered [for their faith.]"

As is his norm, Dewitt always takes time to engage them.

"When they come in, I ask them, 'Do you love Jesus?' and they all hold up their arms and say, 'Yes! We love Jesus!'"

Two mornings a week, Dewitt is at Tyson. He stands at the time clock greeting employees as they clock in. Dewitt shakes hands, inquires about their daily life, and hugs the employees.

"I told someone the other night that my ministry at Tyson is a hugging ministry," Dewitt said. "I just want to start their day positively."

The positive presence is not going unnoticed by Tyson. One morning while Dewitt was greeting the employees with care, the senior vice president of operations happened to be there watching the whole thing.

Dewitt says the man turned to him and asked if he did this every day. "Every day that I'm here, I do." Dewitt replied.

Unbeknownst to Dewitt, the man wrote to CEO Donnie Smith and told him how Dewitt greets the employees.

The next thing Dewitt knew, the CEO himself called the Shelbyville processing plant asking to participate in the daily ritual. Smith, a Tennessee native, and his wife came to Tyson and joined in the daily "meet and greet."

After seeing for himself the impact chaplains had, he sent the idea to all the other chicken processing plants for their chaplains to implement.

"This Tyson ministry takes it to a whole other level in reaching the unchurched," Dewitt says. "There are several at Tyson who do attend church, but many don't and they have no minister they can talk to when they need guidance."

Since Dewitt is the only pastor many employees know, he has presided over many weddings and funerals for the Tyson employees.

Dewitt is proud to be a part of the lives of the Tyson employees and feels he is doing what Jesus himself would do.

"I tell people all the time, 'If Jesus were to show up in Shelbyville, there's a good chance he'd show up at Tyson.'"

A growing flock
In addition to his duties at Tyson, Dewitt stays busy at the First Church of the Nazarene. The church — which Dewitt has been senior pastor of for 24 years — is currently experiencing an upswing in attendance and has added a new worship center and remodeled the old one.

Dewitt is all too happy to give a tour of the new facilities.

The old building has been repurposed as the pre-school area and youth service building.

Wild West buildings make up "Holy Ghost Town," the backdrop for many puppet shows and skits from talented youth leaders. Dewitt shows how the old stage has been enclosed to create the new children's church area.

Everything in the new children's area is brightly colored. The two end wall of the rectangular room are painted in a yellow chevron pattern and primary colored bins sit on shelves.

Dewitt tells how the children's church has been growing.

"This age group of younger kids is just exploding in the church," Dewitt says. "They just outgrew their old room."

All of the youth ministers and teachers are volunteers from the congregation, as well as the choir director and worship leader.

"We only have two full-time positions," Dewitt says, "me and our office manager. Everything else is done through volunteers."

"We had two services on Sundays for 10 years before we built the new building," Dewitt says from behind the pulpit. "So, we're really glad to have this new building to worship in."

Dewitt spreads his arms out, smiles, and says, "This is the most fun church in the world to preach in."

In the immediate community, Dewitt is active on the board of CROSS ministries — Shelbyville's homeless shelter.

"People don't realize we need a homeless shelter in town," Dewitt says, "but if you sat here and listened to the conversations our office has with people on the phone, you'd see the need."

"People are always asking for help — help with their electric bill, groceries, things like that. Some people call and ask, 'Is there any way y'all can put me up for a night in a hotel? I don't have a place to stay.' So, the need is great, even in our small town."

Dewitt tells of how community members have come through with donations for the homeless shelter.

"One thing I say to people all the time is how generous our community is. We're not a rich community, but we're a generous one."

Community shepherd
When asked what he considers his role to be, he thinks for a few seconds before answering.

"I'm a shepherd," he says with finality. "I tend to the sheep in the community — in these walls and out in the city."

Dewitt turns out the lights in the empty church building and walks across the parking lot.

It is a hot summer day, but he stands in the sun and asks caring questions. Questions that are indicative of his compassionate heart for the community.

Although Dewitt's life revolves around faith and beliefs, one thing is absolutely positive: Dewitt is certainly not chicken about sharing his faith, love, and his ministry of hugs.

--Republished with permission from the Shelbyville Times-Gazette