Many of the organizations we are working with these days are led by ordained ministers. Most of these ministers are struggling to figure out exactly what it means to be a "pastor" in the church today, especially those who are serving in congregations in need of renewal and/or redevelopment. This is a very serious question and the way you answer it for yourself as pastor - or the way you answer it for your pastor, if you are a lay leader in your congregation - can make the difference between a successful renewal effort and the kind of fizzled out effort too many congregations have experienced.
So, what kind of pastor does the church need today?
Writing in this month's issue of The Christian Century, James Howell writes about what made him decide to remain in ordained ministry...on the night he decided to quit and find another job. Faced with the task of having to stand beside a young couple on the most horrible day of their lives, he came to believe that all his preparation for ministry was for the sake of this moment. This, he came to think, is what his ministry is all about:
As I felt the chill against my face, I knew I would not quit the ministry. It was as if my whole life had been a preparation for this dark evening. All the wrestling with what career to pursue, counsel from professors, the books, papers, degrees, hurdles of ordination: I had been in training for this day, so that on this day I could drive to Durham and give two parents a little bit of rest—and to rock a very sick child to sleep, just to hold this little one who seemed to have as little hope as I did.
It is impossible not to be moved by Howell's story.
Read it yourself and see if you don't agree with me. I've stood in his shoes. And, especially when it can be so difficult to see the fruits of any other work we do, it is tempting to think that
this is the bottom line for ministry: Caring for people in their time of need.
But, as gently as I can, I need to say this is just wrong. One of the hardest things for today's pastor to do is to shake off the idea that their job, finally, is to serve as a private chaplain to the people and families "in their care." But, friends, this idea is from another time - and even though our seminaries haven't caught up with this new reality and the materials mainline denominations are using to help congregations call pastors & synods elect bishops still look like something from the mid-20th century - that time has passed.
Thank God.
In the earliest church, the one we read about in the Book of Acts and in the letters of Paul, Christians cared for each other. Christians prayed with each other. Their leaders expected and exhorted them to do this. In fact, that was pretty much what the job of a leader was in those days: To expect and exhort people to remember their call to serve their neighbors, care for each other, and share the good news about Jesus with everybody. They modeled these things, too, which means they were also out there serving their neighbors, caring for fellow believers, and sharing the good news with people who hadn't heard it before.
On the mission field today, we need our pastors to get over the idea that their job is to "take care of" us. And we need to get over the idea that we need to be taken care of. God has called each one of us to serve our neighbors, care for each other, and share the good news with everybody. I'm not saying that a pastor won't, once in awhile, find herself holding a fragile infant to give a frantic parent a little relief. But when she does that, it should only be for the sake of modeling what every single other member of her faith community is expected by God to do.
We can't make this shift soon enough.
