Reflection #7: The Pastor is No Longer on a Pedestal (But Maybe a Footstool)

When I was a young child pastors were always referred to by their title then last name - thus for me it was Pastor Lokken. This was the way everyone referred to the minister, it was a sign of respect and honor. By the time I was a teenager I was calling our new pastor P.B. (short for Pastor Berg). This nickname was not seen as disrespectful, but rather a term of endearment, and this was only possible because attitudes towards clergy were changing. No longer were pastors considered people who were above their congregations, a superior persons spiritually and intellectually, rather clergy were beginning to be seen as average (dare I say "normal") people. A pastor was now regarded as someone who had an important vocation, but no more important than other vocations (bringing Luther's teaching on The Priesthood of All Believers more to the fore).

There are times when I wonder what it would have been like to have served the church in the era of Herr Pastor, I'm not sure I would have liked it. I'm not sure I would have entered seminary if I sensed that somehow I would end up being treated differently (and expected to act differently) than everyone else. To live with the pressure of being the person on the pedestal would have been too much for me. I sometimes think that level of respect would be nice, especially in contrast to the lack of respect or sense of disregard that seems to be prevalent today (here I'm referring to society in general, not behaviour within the church). As I consider this further however, I would rather take being regarded the same as others over the social straitjacket of being placed on a pedestal.

The way things are now I feel I can have real conversations with people (most of the time), and people don't feel like they need to change their behaviour around me (though that impulse still shows up from time to time). The other benefit to the current lowering of the pastoral pedestal is that it allows for the conceiving of partnership in ministry between the clergy and lay people - a partnership that allows all participants to feel they can contribute an equal and valid part. While it remains true that within a congregation a pastor may be the most trained theologically person (and theological reflection being their contribution to the whole) this does not mean that the pastor is expected to know everything (and do everything). In the past I think that too much was left up to the clergy and ministry was too often placed solely into the hands of the professionals.

Contrast this with the picture of Jesus' chosen leaders, they were anything but professional religious leaders. They were anything but perfect. They were average humans given an extraordinary calling. Their calling did not change their ordinariness, they still remained imperfect humans stumbling along on this mission, yet God worked through such folks, and I believe that God continues to work through the ordinary humans who are called into ministry.

I know all too well that just because I am a pastor I am not better than others - I make mistakes, I get tired, I don't have all the answers. For the most part people today understand this and yet occasionally the pedestal comes out again (though it is not as high as in earlier years, maybe it's more like a footstool now). I suppose there is a natural impulse to want to see leaders as somehow better versions of ourselves. We want to be assured that the one pointing the direction sees more than we do, knows more than we know, is stronger than we feel, is a head above all others. It would be easy to follow such a leader, but there is a danger in this impulse, and the danger is that we can end up shifting our trust and faith from Jesus to one of Jesus' followers. It is important that if anyone is put on a pedestal that it be Jesus. And actually (in a manner of speaking) this has already happened. As John wrote in his Gospel Jesus was lifted up for all to see (see John 3:14 and 12:32-33) however it was no pedestal, rather it was a cross.

The call to follow Jesus is a call to pick up our cross (not our pedestal) and follow him. This requires an attitude of humility, and being on a pedestal can erode any sense of humbleness quickly. So while I sometimes think things would be easier if people gave me respect simply for the office I fill, I would rather things function as they do now - allowing pastors and lay people to walk together this journey of faith, picking each other up when we stumble, and always looking ahead to where our leader and Lord has led the way. At the foot of his cross we are all on level ground.

The Heavens Declare

At the annual Study Conference for Clergy and Professional Lay Leaders for the Saskatchewan Synod, held in Manitou Springs this week, I was able to fulfill one of my life long hopes - to capture a display of Northern Lights with my camera. (If you click on the picture it should take you to a larger version of the image.) I was able to take a number of pictures before the display faded, but this one is my favourite.

The Aurora Borealis have been something that has touched my spirit since I first saw them as a teenager. (To read the whole story check out my earlier post Night Celebration). One of the portions of scripture that comes to mind every time I see a beautiful display of the Northern Lights is from Psalm 19. I share the words of that Psalm in connection with this image from the other night.

^The heavens declare the glory of God;

the skies proclaim the work of his hands.

^Day after day they pour forth speech;

night after night they display knowledge.

^There is no speech or language

where their voice is not heard.

^Their voice^

goes out into all the earth,

their words to the ends of the world.

(Psalm 19:1-4a New International Version)

Reflection #6: Denominational Pride Goes Before a (Hypo)critical Fall

Crosswalk 2011 - Rosemont Ecumencial Good Friday Procession & Worship

One of my early church memories is attending what were called Reformation Rallies. These were occasions when all the Lutheran churches in the area would gather together (usually on Reformation Sunday if I remember correctly) and give thanks to God that we were Lutherans. Those Reformation Rallies had a definite tone of "We're better than all those other churches," and that sense of Lutheran superiority sunk in deep to my young mind. In those early years I would tell my school mates who attended other denominations that their church was not as good as my church (even if I had never been to their church... I just knew!) Looking back on those days I am glad we have moved beyond such church tribalism, at least to some degree.

Looking down on other denominations has caused a bad smell of hypocrisy to linger far too long in the North American church. This culture of church competition rather than church cooperation does not line up with the command to love others as you love yourself - even (or especially) those who do not "go to church" pick up on that! As I have heard many people ask "Don't you all believe in the same God?"

It is because of the offensive odour of ecclesiastical arrogance that I do not think it is a bad thing that denominationalism appears to be fading (at least in some ways). Partly this decline in denominational exclusivism is due to the need to work together as we all are suffering from shrinking resources. Partly this is due to the simple reality of interdenominational marriage. At the beginning of my ministry there were still pockets of Lutheranism that thought it a terrible thing to marry outside our church, but now parents are just glad if their child marries someone who goes to church period!

Denominational pride grows out of dualistic thinking, the impulse to separate everything into right and wrong, thus if my church is right then the other churches must be wrong. So we set about proving to ourselves (and anyone who would listen) why our church denomination is the "right" one. Meanwhile the mission of the church gets set aside, or worse, changed. Jesus did not ask us to make more Lutherans, or Catholics, or Baptists, or Pentecostals... we are simply asked to make disciples of Jesus. Denominational divisions don't enter into the great commission at all (Matthew 28:18-20).

While there are certainly things about the Lutheran church, and Lutheran approach to theology that I deeply appreciate (and would be hard pressed to give up), I have also come to realize that other church bodies have good and important gifts to offer for our common mission. Last year our local Ecumenical Group planned a joint Good Friday procession and worship service (see the picture above). Walking together through our neighbourhood from church to church there was a great deal of excitement, respect and curiosity. "What would happen at the next church?" At each stop along the processional route there was an expression of faith that was both unique to that denomination and common to all. While the song might not be familiar, the meaning of the lyrics resonated. While the prayers might be led differently than one was used to, the intent of the prayers was clear. While the ritual actions at each stop varied, the same focus was evident - this was about Jesus Christ, the very source of unity, the very reason we were walking and worshipping together in the first place. It truly was a 'good' Friday.

When we are excessively proud of our own denomination, our pride can blind us from the good in other church bodies. It is not so much that any one denomination is the "right" one, rather we simply have different gifts to be used for the sake of the whole. I have seen evidence of God at work in all kinds of churches, in all kinds of settings, in all kinds of people. God is no respecter of church divisions - wherever the people of God gather to seek and do the will of God, there is God in the midst of them. Whenever and wherever people gather to worship Jesus Christ, the Holy Spirit flows - sometimes powerfully, sometimes surprisingly, sometimes quietly, often mysteriously, but always active.

As I look to the future I hope that we would learn to care less about being right than being helpful, that we would consider our identity as Christian first and foremost, before thinking of ourselves as a specific branch of the Christian family. I pray that we would find a healthy balance between gratitude for the good aspects of our particular denomination and an openness to the good aspects of others. I encourage all Christians to be humble enough to admit that God will, and indeed is, working in places and people that might be very unfamiliar, or even uncomfortable, for us.

It will be important in the future not to depend on "brand loyalty" to maintain the mission of the church. Already people are much less concerned about what name is on the building - instead they are concerned about how the people who gather in that building function as a people of faith. They are looking, not for a denomination first and foremost, but for a church. They are looking for a group of people with whom they can share and practice their faith, and they are doing so with less and less regard for historical divisions. Whatever happens in the future our call remains: we are to be centered in the Gospel with as much creativity, integrity and energy as possible. That call surpasses all denominational boundaries.

Lest anyone get the wrong idea, I am truly grateful to have been part of the Lutheran church my whole life, but I am also grateful that I have come to understand and experience that my family of faith is much larger than that.

Reflection #5: Not All Suffering is the Same

Probably the biggest question we face as humans, and more specifically as theologians, is the question of suffering. "Why do people suffer?" Or in the words of Rabbi Harold Kushner "Why do bad things happen to good people?" As I have wrestled with this question over the years I have come to realize that not all suffering is the same, thus this question is much more complex than it originally sounds.

Much human suffering can be explained by human sinfulness, choices made out of self-centeredness that have a negative impact on ourselves and others. This can be seen in the both the personal and communal spheres of life. For example, one person can choose to be abusive towards another - which obviously causes suffering for the victim. On a communal level, behaviour of one group of people can have harmful consequences on another. For example, a manufacturing company may choose to dump toxins into a local river because it is a quick and easy (thus profitable) way to deal with waste - but this creates suffering for others as pollutants enter the environment and cause health problems and worse. So in these examples, the answer to the question "Why is there suffering?" is "Because certain humans made harmful choices."

Tracing the cycle of abuse through the generations shows how suffering resulting from sinful behaviour can perpetuate itself. Thus in one sense "visiting the iniquity of the parents upon the children to the third and the fourth generation." (Numbers 4:18) describes this cycle of suffering. In a communal example, choices made by previous generations have impact on future generations, of particular concern these days is how our choices regarding our impact on the environment will negatively affect life on earth down the road.

Harmful and destructive choices of humans gives us, at least a partial, answer to the question of suffering. Even terrible tragedies like airplane crashes can be traced back to a human desire to quickly move ourselves and goods around the world in a manner that, if anything goes wrong, could have serious consequences. Thus our desire for instant gratification means we choose to pack ourselves inside metal tubes with wings and hurl ourselves through the air at incredible speed and heights (even though we all know that mechanical devices sometimes fail). While not sinful in the sense of going against God's will, this example still shows a willingness to put ourselves and others at risk for self-centered reasons. Every time we get into a car we exhibit the same manner of choice on a smaller scale. Our choices, even choices that intend no harm, can lead to suffering.

There is, however, some suffering that cannot be easily explained by human choices. Natural disasters is one. Earthquakes, tornadoes, tsunamis - forces of nature that are not created by humans, yet can cause great human suffering. "Why does God allow such events to take place, events that cause huge loss of life and property?" In the face of such suffering there is no easy answer. The fundamentalist impulse is to claim such suffering as punishment sent from God for some kind of sinful behaviour. Too bad those who makes such claims publicly always identify as the cause of the suffering something that others (rather than themselves) are doing wrong. It is easy to see suffering as a form of punishment, which leads to the conclusion that the worse the suffering the greater the wrong-doing must have been. This is the very thinking Jesus warns his disciples against in the first verses of Luke chapter 13.

The suffering I personally have the hardest time coming to terms with is not so much the physical or emotional suffering of people, rather it is the mental suffering. Mental illness can be so devastating, and by its very nature impacts how people make choices. For example, when a paranoid schizophrenic kills another person because a voice in his or her head tells them to, the suffering of one creates the suffering of others, and yet where can the blame be placed? In such a case what possible reason can be given? In cases like this everyone seems to be a victim, everyone seems to suffer.

When faced with the question of suffering I often have the urge to find someone or something to blame. Sometimes I am successful in that quest, but too often I end up drawing a blank. When there is no apparent human reason for suffering the remaining possibility is to blame God. The Bible has plenty of examples of people who shout their anger and frustration at God in the midst of suffering. From Job to the Psalmists, from Prophets to Apostles, all have questioned why they face hard times, why they suffer.

As I find myself asking questions about suffering I need to remember that God has already given an unusual answer. When humans ask God "Why is there suffering?" God answers by becoming flesh and joining us in our pain. As the Apostles' Creed confesses "he suffered under Pontius Pilate." God answers our questions about human suffering, by suffering along side us. It doesn't answer our question in a neat manner, rather it is a messy answer, a bloody answer, a relational and ongoing answer. To remember this does not mean I no longer am bothered by suffering, but it does mean God is aware of the suffering, and that God embraces the suffering and all those impacted by it. In this way suffering is transformed and hope can be restored.

So far this is what I have learned about suffering. Admittedly this understanding about suffering is very limited, and even after 25 years as a pastor I doubt I know much of what suffering truly is. So instead of trying to give answers I have learned mostly to be quiet in the face of suffering - there is little to be said except "I am here with you."

The Truth I Seek

Seems like this is the week for poetry. Here is another one written while on retreat at Qu'Appelle House of Prayer these past couple of days.
____________

The Truth I seek
is not a set of propositions
lined up neatly
so I can understand
and agree completely.

The Truth I seek
is no static group of words
noted by black and white,
contrasts only, without
the full spectrum of light.

The Truth I seek
lives in the midst of eternity -
relating and creating -
continually new, continually now -
unceasingly seeking.

The Truth I seek
is Christ, and Christ alone.
All truths find their source in Christ.
All creation is centred in Christ.
I seek the very centre of Truth.
I seek Christ, the centre of Love.
I seek Christ, who is seeking me.

The Light Shone In

Some recent thoughts set down in free verse poetry.
____________

The Light shone in
breaking the oppression of darkness
and the people said
“This is wonderful”

They loved the Light
because it did great things for them
They wanted to protect the Light
from the forces of darkness
"threatening to devour it"

so they gathered round
in a tight circle
firmly resolved to guard the Light
and without realizing it
they ended up
only blocking it out

Eight Words

This past weekend my wife and I spent time in the Kenosee Lake region of southeast Saskatchewan. We were there for the wedding of David Ruecker and Bethann Husband. David was a youth worker at Christ Lutheran Church for many years, and I got to know Dave well as we spent many hours doing youth ministry together. It was a joy to be part of the wedding ceremony of Dave and Bethann - a beautiful couple in a beautiful setting on a beautiful day - how much better can it get than that?

Bethann's pastor, Rolland Bouchard (who serves Moose Mountain Church of Christ), told my wife and I about a great place for coffee and cinnamon buns in the town of Carlyle, a few miles south of Kenosee Lake. The place is called 8 Words Café, and was opened by Michael Ellis (a pastor, entrepreneur and mayor of the nearby town of Arcola). According to Pastor Rolland, the 8 Words in the name of the cafe refer to the way Michael Ellis distills down the great command to 8 words.

I can't remember the exact 8 words Rolland told me, but as I thought about this further driving back from the wedding I had an inspiration for my own version. The summary I came up with uses just 4 words twice, arranged in different order to make two short sentences. Before I reveal my 8 words let me clarify what I consider the great command.

Jesus is once asked to identify which commandment in the law is the greatest. Jesus responds "You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the greatest and first commandment. And a second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets." (Matthew 22:37-40). This is Matthew's version, but a similar response is found in the other synoptic Gospels: Mark 12:28-34 and Luke 10:25-28. In Luke's version the clarifying question is posed "Who is my neighbor" to which Jesus responds with the parable of the good Samaritan, a response that indicates that Jesus understands neighbor to mean anyone we encounter, regardless of any similarities or differences one might have with the other.

It should be noted that neither of these two commandments that Jesus links together are new. They show up in the Torah - the law that faithful Jews have learned throughout the generations. Deuteronomy 6:5 is the first proclamation of the great commandment, initially given by Moses to the people of Israel in the wilderness. The command about loving neighbors is found in Leviticus 19:18, the culmination of a command to not take vengeance or bear a grudge. Jesus identifies these two laws from the Torah as the greatest, and uses love as the common denominator linking these two commandments.

This two-part command of Jesus - to love God with all that we have, and to love others (indeed to love all of God's creation) as we love ourselves - this I take to be the heart of what it means to be a disciple of Christ. Love is God's gift to us, and love is our response to God. This is the centre of our faith. How thus to state this commandment and all that it encompasses in 8 words? This is what I came up with:

Love God with all.
Love all with God.

Those two statements work in many ways, and as such they function like poetry or parable - with many layers to uncover. May these 8 words be a simple way to remind us of what we are called to do as disciples of Jesus.

Love God with all.
Love all with God.


By the way, the coffee and the cinnamon buns really were great, and Beth (my wife) and I would recommend the 8 Words Café if you are ever in the vicinity of Carlyle, Saskatchewan.