Pastors are people too

This weeks readings had a clear theme: “Pastors are people.” It seems like it should be obvious, as often people use Priest, Curate, Preacher, Pastor, Rector, and Parson as synonyms. Professional church ministry is one of the very few jobs where a common job title is properly translated “Person” — how is it we forget? I hardly need to appeal to my readings to say that forgetting our person-hood creates many problems.

I guess it is because we live in a culture that experts us to be persons on our own time. Whether we like it or not, the majority of us are ruled by the time clock — yes, there is something freeing about clocking in and out of work — but, a factory worker must lay aside what is personal for several hours at a time, and instead fulfill his function — there is time to focus on personal issues off the clock. Unfortunately a clergyman never clocks out. Even on scheduled days off, there is a sense of being on call (unless the faith community is blessed with other people who can cover the needs of pastoral care). If we are used to being a person ‘on our own time’. If we lack of a sense of own time we might forget to take it.

Another reason seems to be that the general population forget that pastors are also people. A Friend’s minister from Guatemala named Carlos Moran once attended a business meeting where a monthly meeting was discussing which side to take in a regional controversy. Two well known and well respected ministers were fighting. While Carlos was only visiting, he felt it was important to weigh in and he told a story.

When farmers plough their fields, they set up some sort of landmark so that they could keep their eyes on it and plough straight rows. One farmer went to plough his field, and set his eye on something white in the distance. He followed it carefully moving forward until he found that it was a sheep. Looking back, he saw that the row was far from straight, because as the sheep wondered he followed it ploughing a crooked row. Because he failed to do the work correctly, he was forced to level the ground and plough again setting his eyes on something that did not move.

He went on to tell them that they were arguing about which sheep to set as a landmark. No matter what they chose, they would still be using a sheep as a reference point, and either way they would fail to plough a straight row, because sheep move randomly. He suggested that they find a way to fix their eyes on Jesus, instead of sheep.

I notice something important from this story. Both of these sheep served their local worship communities in some sort of pastoral role. When we name someone pastor, the pastor is in some sense both shepherd and sheep. There is a danger of the congregation elevating the pastor to something beyond a person to their own ruination — yet, if they are looking for someone who is more than human, they might hire someone who has forgotten.

I still don’t have the answers, but I have questions:

What does it mean to be sheep and shepherd?
How can we be true to self while accomplishing goals set by others?
How can we teach people to look to stable landmark instead of another sheep?
How do we make enough time for self and family when demands are greater than total time?

Finding poetry

We seek beauty where we are
But there seems so little time
Scheduled until we are blind
The heart forgetting poetry

We learn to put away stories
All things but facts becoming childish things
We memorize names and dates
We forget about history

Reading poetry after poetry was forgotten
Looking for facts in the metaphor
Finding details, but missing the point
For we put our stories behind us

Yet sometimes we must reach out and find poetry
For some things cannot be reduced to equations

What is a Pastor?

One of my teachers asked us to consider this question before the first day of class. Considering, I am forced to admit that: “I don’t know.” I have interviewed for the position of pastor, I have taken classes on giving pastoral care, I have read books, and I have read scripture — but I cannot see how everything ties together.

Counting days (again)

The future is unknown
We only know it is different
Midnight will come
We will change days on the calender

I know there are only a few days
There is work to accomplish
Yet the time comes when things change
Today’s work may not be that of tomorrow

Planning and dreaming
Hoping that the preparation is enough
Fear and excitement are mixed
I am counting days again

Sermons on the radio (Continued)

As I work Sunday, both morning and evening, I have started listening to an Anglican worship service. While I am temporarily separated from my Christian community, I am able to hear the reading of scripture, and to pray with other Christians while distant.

This separation from Christian community has brought me to think about what is important. There is a lot that I love about the house church — and the intimacy of small groups — sermons on the radio or internet mixed with a house church could replace almost everything people expect from church. Almost all of the time clergy are not necessary. (as a Quaker, I might go so far to argue that they really are not strictly necessary.)

As a seminarian, I would hope that there is a place for vocational ministry. I would hope that there is a place for spiritual direction, personal pastoral care and visitation, etc. The truth is that while people are well meaning — so many of us are miserable comforters, and sometimes we are rather foolish when giving advice. While my seminary education will not assure that I will become a skilled caregiver, nor will it ensure that I am not a fool — it should train me to avoid several of the worst pitfalls. The house-church might not be equipped to deal with a death, or to prepare for a wedding. When I am separated from my community, I lose my connection with both ordinary fellowship, and the periodic crisis (whether joyful or sorrowful) that my community faces. If we threw out training and recognition that some have gifts that others do not — we would be limited to the well meaning blundering of busybodies. If we only came together in small groups — we would not be able to share the burden of life changing events.

If we get our needs for sermons, etc. outside of church — and should focus on fellowship and being a community, as someone with a religious vocation, I think my role would be to focus on pastoral care and spiritual direction. I would not need to worry about impressing people that I can make a clever speech, but instead demonstrate that I care about their lives and their spirituality. I for one will not be jealous of the radio — instead, hope I to strengthen individuals and the community. When it comes time to leave for another place — I pray they are strong enough to make it without me.

Listening to sermons on the radio

Listening, reading
Scriptures and applications
So many Sermons

Justice

Is there justice anywhere?
Can anyone speak and find peace?
What is the price of free speech?
Must everyone sacrifice who wants a voice?

Is violence the only way to speak?
Are the police the soldiers of the wealthy?
What is the role of the worker?
Have we returned to the industrial revolution?

Will unions rise?
Will there be new Pinkertons to break the Unions?
Will innocents be shot for the sake of a few dollars?
How do they sort the non violent from the rioters?

The world seems run by fraud
Charges for services never rendered
Always taking, never giving
The masses existing to enrich the few

The wealthiest have the best justice money can buy
But, is justice at a high price just?