The Vertical and the Horizontal of Worship

In a Wesleyan church where I was the guest preacher, the pastor led the congregation in prayer five times, with an opening prayer, a pastoral prayer, a prayer for the children, a prayer to consecrate the offering, and a blessing of the people at worship’s end (benediction).  

The prayers were prepared, to some degree, but they also were fresh, simple, sacred moments in which he brought the flock he clearly loved “vertically” into the Presence. I could tell he was talking directly to God on behalf of his people. His prayers also “horizontally” bound the people together before the Throne.

There is a vertical and horizontal aspect to worship styles, as well. Sometimes one outweighs the other. 

I was once part of a service in a cathedral where worship was so objective, so exclusively vertical that I felt little of the warmth of human fellowship. 

And I’ve been part of services that are more horizontal – like community gatherings  for music, marked by applause and laughter. 

My first experience of worship was in a small, white, clapboard-sided church on the dusty prairies of Saskatchewan in the 1930s. The Sunday-morning service was intentionally simple. There was no printed program, no choir, piano, or other musical instruments. Instead, there was unaccompanied congregational singing, prayer, and preaching. Various individuals sometimes spontaneously expressed their experience of God in open testimony. 

I recall even now feeling at times a sense of awe as the congregation worshiped and, at the same time, the fellowship of people sharing their lives with each other.

By our natures, some of us seem to need more of the vertical, and others more of the horizontal, but we all need both. In searching for a middle ground, I ponder the two main words for worship as they turn up in both Old and New Testaments. The one means “to adore; to bow down; to prostrate oneself.” The other means “to offer service,” much as a servant would offer service to his master.

The worship of God for me is beautiful. It prompts joy and humility when it is simple, focused on the Triune God, rich in Christian content, marked by an artistry of leadership that does not call attention to itself, and made vital by the Holy Spirit not just by the spiritedness of leaders. It is lifegiving when the focus is decidedly vertical, but with the horizontal community element represented, too.

There is good reason why this matter should be important to every Christian. “Worship,” Robert E. Webber writes, “is the summit toward which the entire life of the church moves and the source from which all of its ministries flow.”

First published August 19, 2013; revised June 5, 2023

Photo credit: Emma (via flickr.com)

My new memoir, FROM KITCHEN CHAIR TO PULPIT: A Memoir of Family, Faith, and Ministry, has just been published. I hope you will click on one of the links that follow to be taken to the page on these sites that enable you to view and potentially purchase the paperback or ebook. My book shows just how extraordinary the pastoral life can be, describing how I prepared for ministry and ministered to three congregations and then, as a bishop, to pastors as a bishop, with the help of my wife, Kathleen, and the support of our children as they grew up from children to adults.

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Mending Relationships

In 1956, I was appointed pastor of a church in New Westminster, a suburb of Vancouver, British Columbia. Kathleen and I packed our belongings and four children into our turquoise Plymouth hitched to a springless trailer and drove all the way from Kentucky to our new assignment.

The Reverend C. W. Burbank was my conference superintendent. He was not a seminary-trained man; back then, many pastors got their theological training through substantial correspondence courses. He was an urgent preacher, well respected by his peers, and a man of down-to-earth common sense — derived, I was told, from his earlier years in the logging business in the Okanagan Valley of Washington State.

During one of my first conversations with him he shared a bit of wisdom. (It was intended for pastors, but seems to me applicable to everyone, especially in these days of strife.) He explained that some ministers are more skilled at mending fences than others. He meant that when a misunderstanding developed such pastors seemed to have a knack for promptly restoring trusting relationships.

Others, he said, leave the rift unaddressed and allow it to take on a certain permanence. If this happens with one family, and then another, Rev. Burbank explained, the sum of the misunderstandings destroys the trust of the congregation as a whole. This can end a pastor’s ministry in that church.

Rev. Burbank didn’t say exactly how to recover healthy relationships. Nor did he mention what to do if a pastor’s efforts to keep fences mended are rejected. Sadly, there are such situations.

Here are some practical relationship-mending comments for pastors to consider:

The greatest hindrance to correcting wounded relationships is a universal problem: pride that makes us overrate our worth or abilities. Wounded pride must be acknowledged, managed, and even repented before repair is possible.

Once a rift happens, anger destroys relationships. Anger must be faced and dissipated. Often only the indwelling Spirit of Christ, and the spirit of humility He gives, can save us from anger’s destruction. It may help to meditate on James 1:19: “Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry, for man’s anger does not bring about the righteous life that God desires.”

Wise pastors will know that, once in a while, a relationship may seem beyond repair despite their earnest attempts at restoration. Agreement may not be possible regarding a policy or board majority decision. In these cases, ministers should labor on in the hope that their continued faithful service will bear fruit and melt hearts.

We are much more likely to navigate rocky relationships if we remember that ultimate accountability is to God. The first impulse should be to please Him, since it is to Him all will finally answer.

Mending fences is not just a challenge for ministers. Broken relationships are a universal peril. Ministers and laymen alike need strength and grace to help in the arduous task of living openly and charitably — insofar as possible — with all. Praying for increased sensitivity to the opinions and needs of others for Christ’s sake is the starting point.

Many years after our conversation, Rev. Burbank’s counsel to keep fences mended remains current. His advice has been a lifelong gift to me, not always exercised to the greatest effectiveness, but always treasured.

Photo credit: Ivan Radic (via flickr.com)

Re-post: Mending Fences

In 1956, when I was a young pastor in the Pacific Northwest Conference, the late Reverend C. W. Burbank was my conference superintendent. I had been appointed to the New Westminster church on the Lower Mainland of British Columbia, and Kathleen and I had crossed the continent from Kentucky immediately after my graduation from Asbury Seminary. Our personal belongings and four little children were packed into our turquoise colored Plymouth and a large spring-less trailer joggled along behind us every mile of the way.

Before Superintendent Burbank entered the ministry he was a logger. He had an outdoors ruggedness about him. He was not a seminary trained man; back then, seminary training for ministers was less common and more difficult to attain than now. Many pastors of earlier eras got whatever theological training they received by means of serious correspondence courses they were expected to wade through.

But he was an urgent preacher, well respected by his peers, and a man of down-to-earth common sense, something he learned or polished, as I understand, while in the logging business in the Okanagan Valley of Washington State.

During one of my first conversations with him he shared a bit of wisdom. He explained that some ministers are more skilled at mending their fences than others. He meant that when a misunderstanding or even an unintended interpersonal rift developed, such pastors seem to have a knack for restoring trusting relationships.

Others, he went on, leave the gap unaddressed and allow it to take on a certain permanence. If this happens with another family, and then another, Rev. Burbank explained, the misunderstandings accumulate sufficiently to destroy the trust of the congregation as a whole. A wall develops and the minister loses the trust of the congregation and he must move on.

Rev. Burbank didn’t say exactly how to recover healthy relationships. Nor did he mention what to do if a pastor’s efforts to keep fences mended are rejected. That is another aspect of the issue, and there are such situations. To take his counsel a step further, here are a couple more suggestions.

First, the greatest hindrance to correcting wounded relationships is pride – that dangerous quality within us that makes us tend to over-rate our worth or abilities. Pride is a point of vulnerability with all of us, Christian or not. When something is said or done from either side that injures our self esteem the rift is in danger of opening. Before repair can even be attempted pride must be acknowledged and brought to heel.

Second, once a rift happens, anger tends to follow and it invariably only clouds issues. So, no correction should be attempted until anger has been faced and dissipated. Most of us have learned this lesson by unhappy experience. In the face of breakdown of relationship and accompanying anger, only the indwelling Spirit of Christ can save us from further anger-prompted division.

Third, wise pastors will know that once in awhile, a relationship may grow cool or may even seem beyond repair. This may be due to disagreement on a particular issue. Or it may arise when a parishioner seems to have a fixed point of view about some circumstance. In these sorts of cases, when honest efforts have been made to restore relationship and fellowship—without success—ministers should labor on. As all pastors learn, in a busy growing pastorate there will be those who do not agree with the minister on issues. After honest efforts have been made to seek corrected and restored fellowship — without success — ministers should go on with their work diligently, all the while treating objectors with civility and grace. Only humility can keep the door open to the other person permanently. And it can only be hoped that the minister’s continued faithful service to the congregation will bear fruit and that eventually hearts will melt and be reconciled.

Ministers are much more likely to stay afloat in troubled waters and navigate through rocky relationships if they remember that their ultimate accountability for their efforts is to God. Their hope is that God may be pleased, since it is to him they will finally answer. Just remembering this makes them more careful to avoid missteps.

Mending fences is not only a challenge to ministers. Broken relationships are a universal peril in our fallen world. It would be hard to find someone of mature years who does not have a measure of pain over damaged relationships and even unresolved relationship issues at this point. So ministers and laymen alike need strength and grace help in the arduous task of living openly and charitably — insofar as possible — with all. Praying for increased sensitivity to the needs of others for Christ’s sake is the starting point.

Many years after our conversation, Rev. Burbank died in the pulpit while doing what he loved — preaching the gospel. I am just one of many who profited from his ministerial leadership and wise counsel. His insight regarding mending fences was a lifelong gift, not always exercised to the greatest effectiveness, but always treasured.

Photo credit: Josh Liba (via flickr.com)

Christ Loves the Church – But Do We?

There’s a story about a man who loved the children in his neighborhood. When they called to him he waved. When he gardened, they gathered around him and chattered enthusiastically. The relationship seemed mutually nourishing.

On one occasion the man decided to have the gravel in his driveway replaced with concrete. The workers came, completed the job, and left.

The neighborhood children could not resist the wet concrete and enthusiastically carved their initials into it.

When the owner came home and found the driveway decorated with initials, his affection for children seemed to cool. He scolded them, sending them home crying.

One annoyed parent accosted him. “It appears you don’t like children after all,” she chided. The man replied, “I like children in the abstract, but not in the concrete.”

A surprising number of self-professed Christians appear to feel somewhat like that about the church. In an abstract way, church is a good idea — a place for children to learn the Ten Commandments; a good site for the occasional wedding; a setting for pleasant carols and Christmas skits. It’s even okay as a place for worship, but not necessarily weekly worship which would call for sustained, practical, and responsible involvement.

The Scriptures do not support such a vague, detached view. Instead, they tell us that for true believers, belonging to the body of Christ in substantial ways is serious business.

For example, the main word for “church” in both Testaments means an assembly.  More than that, it can mean an assembly meeting at the call of a herald. When Christians gather in one place to worship the Living God they do so in answer to God’s summons: “Come let us bow down in worship, let us kneel before the Lord our Maker” (Psalm 95:6).

My wife and I usually arrive for Sunday morning worship 15 minutes before the service begins. We sit quietly for personal reflection.

I love it Sunday after Sunday when the prelude ends and the pastor steps to the pulpit to say, “Let us stand for the call to worship.” That invitation quickens the spirit and sets the stage for what’s to follow.

The call to worship! For me this is a moment for believers to recognize again that we have been summoned by God to come together for a high hour of worship. It is he who calls us and him whom we worship.

Moreover, the major biblical word for church meaning “an assembly” can also mean, “called out” — that is called out from our various locations to assemble for worship. In the New Testament the word is translated “church” for 112 of its 115 appearances.

The call to worship is God’s call to those who are his redeemed. Someone writes, “Wherever the Holy Spirit unites worshiping souls to Christ you have the mystery of the church.” And this is a visible, audible, active gathering.

At a youth gathering I fell into conversation with the man who had been hired to manage the public address system. While setting things up in the retreat center he said to me, “I’m a born again Christian but I haven’t been inside a church building in many years.” He then added, “And there are tens of thousands of people out there who are just like me.” He seemed to be bragging that Christians can be loners.

One could wonder how he would respond to the Apostle Paul’s words to the church in Ephesus: “Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her” (in the offering of his own body) (Ephesians 5:25). Multitudes answer God’s call to gather regularly to celebrate that completed sacrifice and worship God in Christ.

Christ’s sacrificial love was obviously not to make believers loners, nor to prompt them to think loosely of some mere abstraction. It was to demonstrate love concretely manifested at Calvary and to recall that love wherever a body of believers is called by the Father to gather.

Think of the reality of it. When we gather in a physical setting, however lofty or lowly, we can claim afresh Christ’s promise, “For where two or three come together in my name, there am I with them” (Matthew 18:20).

Photo credit: J Merz (via flickr.com)

The Blessing of Church Order

As a young pastor just out of seminary, I was chairing the monthly board meeting in the education center of the church. I could feel the warmth and respect of the people for the six of us — Kathleen and me and our four young children — and the previous board meetings had gone well.

But during this meeting, when I opened the floor for new business the members turned from me to debate animatedly with one another. A new subject had cropped up: The first wedding in the new sanctuary was scheduled and what would the guidelines be for decorating the place?

The meeting became a bit disorderly. There was the protect-the-new-paint faction and the opposing let-the-kids-decorate-it’s-their-day faction and the exchanges were getting more intense.

I called them to order and decorum returned. I told them I could offer a solution. They were polite and interested. I was about to draw on a course I had taken in seminary called simply Church Administration.

I explained that each congregation has at least two committees of the official board — a board (or committee) responsible for “spiritualities” and one for “temporalities.”

The first, the one for spiritualities (called stewards), was responsible to work under the pastor for the care of persons – shut-ins, the hospitalized, new babies, etc. They were responsible also for preparing the elements for the Lord’s Supper.

The members of the board of temporalities (then called trustees) were responsible for the care of property. They were to deal with repairs, or review insurance policies, or monitor the condition of church equipment, etc.

The people listened quietly. I explained that these two boards or committees were accountable to the official board. I went on to suggest that they could refer the question of decorating the sanctuary for a wedding to the board responsible for temporalities and expect them to bring back a recommendation at the next meeting.

They saw the possibilities. In due time the issue was resolved and a peril had been averted: the peril of opening the way by poor administration for power struggles over the uses of the new building.

All this came back to me this morning when Kathleen and I were reading from the Book of Numbers. As the great throng of Israelites was about to set out from Sinai for their wilderness journey, they got special administrative instructions from God. They were to take a census of all the people, especially to count all the men 20 and older, because these were to be the fighting men. The number reported was 603,550. (Numbers 1)

Then the Israelites were given instructions on how the camp was to be laid out when they were not on the move. The Tent of Meeting was to be at the center because God was the center of the community’s life. The Levites, as servants of the tabernacle, were to locate on its three sides. Then the twelve tribes were to locate one row behind them from the tent of meeting, placing three tribes on each side. (Numbers 2)

Should the organization and structure of today’s church be any less clear? Whether it is a local church, an annual conference or a general conference, the body that has rules and prescribed procedures to which it adheres is more likely to be administered in a godly fashion. Its leaders will always be given rightful authority but with clearly defined limits. The life of the body is then ordered so as to guarantee that each member will have a voice at some level of the organization. Across the years I have seen that such simple organizational parameters, when applied, generate trust and harmony.

The Bible has so much to teach us about church life, and when we follow these teachings, God’s people are more likely to be wholesome in their deliberations and open to the blessing of God in their endeavors.

Mending Fences

In 1956, when I was a young pastor in the Pacific Northwest Conference, the late Reverend C. W. Burbank was my conference superintendent. I had been appointed to the New Westminster church on the Lower Mainland of British Columbia, and Kathleen and I had crossed the continent from Kentucky immediately after my graduation from Asbury Seminary. Our personal belongings and four little children were packed into our turquoise colored Plymouth and a large spring-less trailer joggled along behind us every mile of the way.

Before Superintendent Burbank entered the ministry he was a logger. He had an outdoors ruggedness about him. He was not a seminary trained man; back then, seminary training for ministers was less common and more difficult to attain than now. Many pastors of earlier eras got whatever theological training they received by means of serious correspondence courses they were expected to wade through.

But he was an urgent preacher, well respected by his peers, and a man of down-to-earth common sense, something he learned or polished, as I understand, while in the logging business in the Okanagan Valley of Washington State.

During one of my first conversations with him he shared a bit of wisdom. He explained that some ministers are more skilled at mending their fences than others. He meant that when a misunderstanding or even an unintended interpersonal rift developed, such pastors seem to have a knack for restoring trusting relationships.

Others, he went on, leave the gap unaddressed and allow it to take on a certain permanence. If this happens with another family, and then another, Rev. Burbank explained, the misunderstandings accumulate sufficiently to destroy the trust of the congregation as a whole. A wall develops and the minister loses the trust of the congregation and he must move on.

Rev. Burbank didn’t say exactly how to recover healthy relationships. Nor did he mention what to do if a pastor’s efforts to keep fences mended are rejected. That is another aspect of the issue, and there are such situations. To take his counsel a step further, here are a couple more suggestions.

First, the greatest hindrance to correcting wounded relationships is pride – that dangerous quality within us that makes us tend to over-rate our worth or abilities. Pride is a point of vulnerability with all of us, Christian or not. When something is said or done from either side that injures our self esteem the rift is in danger of opening. Before repair can even be attempted pride must be acknowledged and brought to heel.

Second, once a rift happens, anger tends to follow and it invariably only clouds issues. So, no correction should be attempted until anger has been faced and dissipated. Most of us have learned this lesson by unhappy experience. In the face of breakdown of relationship and accompanying anger, only the indwelling Spirit of Christ can save us from further anger-prompted division.

Third, wise pastors will know that once in awhile, a relationship may grow cool or may even seem beyond repair. This may be due to disagreement on a particular issue. Or it may arise when a parishioner seems to have a fixed point of view about some circumstance. In these sorts of cases, when honest efforts have been made to restore relationship and fellowship—without success—ministers should labor on. As all pastors learn, in a busy growing pastorate there will be those who do not agree with the minister on issues. After honest efforts have been made to seek corrected and restored fellowship — without success — ministers should go on with their work diligently, all the while treating objectors with civility and grace. Only humility can keep the door open to the other person permanently. And it can only be hoped that the minister’s continued faithful service to the congregation will bear fruit and that eventually hearts will melt and be reconciled.

Ministers are much more likely to stay afloat in troubled waters and navigate through rocky relationships if they remember that their ultimate accountability for their efforts is to God. Their hope is that God may be pleased, since it is to him they will finally answer. Just remembering this makes them more careful to avoid missteps.

Mending fences is not only a challenge to ministers. Broken relationships are a universal peril in our fallen world. It would be hard to find someone of mature years who does not have a measure of pain over damaged relationships and even unresolved relationship issues at this point. So ministers and laymen alike need strength and grace help in the arduous task of living openly and charitably — insofar as possible — with all. Praying for increased sensitivity to the needs of others for Christ’s sake is the starting point.

Many years after our conversation, Rev. Burbank died in the pulpit while doing what he loved — preaching the gospel. I am just one of many who profited from his ministerial leadership and wise counsel. His insight regarding mending fences was a lifelong gift, not always exercised to the greatest effectiveness, but always treasured.

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One Week in the Life of Pastor John Doe

(This story is a composite. Everything in this pastor’s week is possible. And not just for the mega-church pastor. Pastors who read this may find their vision of the scope of a busy, hard working pastor’s duties expanded. And lay readers who read it may have their own awareness of the pastoral task enlightened and their appreciation for the demands of the pastor’s work raised)

Please meet Pastor John Doe. Secular people may not understand his title though they know it has something to do with the church. A few even joke that it is a one-hour-a-week Sunday morning job. Here is a glimpse into one typical week, and the kind of thinking that drives Pastor Doe.

HIS WEEK STARTS ON TUESDAY

It’s eight o’clock Tuesday morning and Pastor John Doe is closeted in his study, reading, researching, meditating, and praying as he lays out pulpit plans for the following Sunday. In the morning he’ll preach his last sermon in a year-long series from Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount, “The Bedrock of Obedience” (Matt. 7:24-27). In the evening it will be, The Christian and Gambling.

When he hears his administrative assistant arrive at nine, the phone in the office next to his study begins to ring. She thoughtfully protects him from calls that can wait. But at 11:45 she breaks his solitude to tell him that the conference superintendent has called; the new Smeaton baby has arrived (a boy); and Jane Hewlett of the Mother’s Morning Out Circle phoned to ask if he would lunch with them this coming Thursday noon and bring a brief devotional. Oh, yes, and Mrs. Grundy phoned to complain that the sound system had not been loud enough Sunday and if this problem isn’t fixed she’ll just stay home and listen to a television preacher.

There’ll be no time for jogging, this noon. By 12:20 he is enjoying his lunch alone — a sandwich, an apple, and a thermos of decaf. By 1:15 he’s on his way to the hospital, first to give thanks with the Smeatons on the arrival of their son, then to visit a high-schooler who has had shoulder surgery, and finally to bring God’s comfort to Grandma Simms in the cancer ward.

By 3:15 he’s back at the church for an appointment with a troubled single mother. She fears her 13-year-old daughter, Alene, is getting into drugs. The symptoms are ominous — secretive conduct, falling grades, a forged bank withdrawal, and wide mood swings. Pastor Doe has had a good relationship with Alene so he assures the mother that he will get in touch with her and he’ll also put the mother in touch with a support group. He prays with her but both know that, if her fears are true, there may be hard days ahead.

In the few spare minutes before a 4:30 appointment with a young couple, he chooses congregational songs for next Sunday morning service. The couple arrive. They’re students at a community college who want to talk about marriage. As their story unfolds they confide that they want to wait until they’re married — they want to be chaste — but the struggle is intense. They are deeply in love. The pastor’s sympathetic ear and accepting response calms them and enables them to talk rationally about solutions. He suggests they talk with their parents (one middle-aged couple and a divorced mother) about setting an earlier wedding date. He makes another appointment to see them.

At 5:50 he arrives home. After a pleasant meal he has time to play a computer game with his ten-year-old son, Thomas, and read a Bible story to his five-year-old daughter, Cheryl. At 7:50 he slips away to look in on a newly formed building committee at the church. He’s home by 9:15 and in the quietness of the family room he and his wife, Lenore, chat about family matters — a better medication for Cheryl’s asthma, new tires for the van, and conflict at the child care center where she works.

NOT WITHOUT ANXIETIES

It was a successful Tuesday but it hadn’t started that way. Before leaving for the church his own quiet time with the Scriptures had turned out to be a worry time. He had tried meditating on a Psalm but instead he had meditated on unresolved stresses in the church. There were three men he couldn’t please. His vision for growth appeared to be the issue. The recent formation of a building committee had increased the tensions. After all, so far as they were concerned, the church was paying its bills, the building was well kept up, the membership was holding steady, and the people enjoyed being together. They complained to him about little things but were never satisfied when he tried to meet them half way. Maybe trouble was ahead.

This wasn’t the way he liked to spend his prayer time. Before he left his room he had committed the matter to the Lord, but was disappointed with the way the problem had got to him. He had confessed his failure, entreated for grace, and gone to face the day.

Wednesday morning bright and early Pastor Doe is on his way to a city 120 miles to the north. At a one-day interdenominational pastors’ conference the main speaker is a young man who in five years has grown a church of 88 members to a congregation of 850. Pastor Doe’s desire to grow his own church makes him eager to hear this man. On the two and a half hour trip he listens to “Preaching Today” cassettes.

The speaker is tall and sinewy with a ruddy face and sandy curly hair. With a couple of preacher’s stories he establishes rapport and then begins to tell how he achieved remarkable growth at his church. For example, he explains that he had to ease out of the membership a few who were obviously not going to support him. (Pastor Doe flinches inwardly.) Then, he had completely revamped the forms of Sunday worship to make them more sprightly, more energized. He was particularly proud of his church’s Jazz and Rock Praise Band, but when it became a fixture in worship a few more members left. That’s when the influx began. He had made it clear from the outset, he told the conference, that he was in charge, and that “sometimes you have to lose 100 to gain 1000.”

His message troubled Pastor Doe. It sounded like power tactics such as a captain of industry might use to turn around an ailing operation by treating employees as mere units of productivity, dismissing long time workers, and bringing in new personnel — always with his eye on the bottom line.

Pastor Doe gets home by eight; the children are in bed; the house is quiet. He’s glad, because he wants to discuss with his wife what he has heard. He describes to her the speaker’s strategies. Doe is confused. Power tactics can be alluring; they certainly seem to have been effective in one pastor’s good cause.

His wife reminds him about a recent sermon he preached from Ezekiel 34. It was about what God expects his shepherds to do — strengthen the sheep who are weak, heal the sick, bind up the injured, bring back the strays and search for the lost. He knew these were the speaker’s desires too, but the methods seemed heavy-handed. Doe’s wife reminded him of Jesus’ words: “I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.”

As they talked, the fog lifted. He remembered that he had been called to be a servant to God’s people, to offer creative leadership, to attempt to take them into greener pastures. He wanted to succeed as much as anyone, but he wasn’t willing to reinvent himself as an authoritarian boss. Pastoral authority, as he understood it, was not to be used to intimidate or manipulate the flock of God’s people entrusted to him.

A STRING OF CHALLENGES

Thursday and Friday bring Pastor Doe a variety of other pastoral challenges: a visit in the home of an elderly couple soon to be moved to a full care facility after 54 years in their own home; visits on two new families; a conversation with an anguished young man who had just been served divorce papers; a look-in at the nearby school gym on a growing youth group.

By telephone, he learns that one of his members had invited a neighbor to a women’s morning Bible study and after only three lessons her neighbor had professed faith in Christ. A shaken father phones to say that they have a pregnant teenaged daughter and she is hostile and defiant about it; the family needs prayer.

FAMILY NIGHT

Friday night is family night for the Does. No phone calls. No television. Just games or a good video or reading aloud from books the children love. When it had dawned on them recently that in this busy church their children were getting lost in the shuffle, his wife and he had decided to devote Friday nights solely to them. The children loved it.

Saturday morning he’s at the church for an extended time of prayer, a review of his sermon notes, a conference with the music director, and time to prepare his pastoral prayer. Saturday afternoon may include a family bike ride or a visit to the indoor community swimming pool or just looking after a few family chores around town.

But in spite of the daily challenges, he can’t shake the discomfort that surfaces in unoccupied moments over the tensions with the three members. He wants it to be different. He attempts to isolate this matter from all the other good things but it isn’t easy. Of one thing he is certain: he is not going to use any techniques to run these members off. That is too simple a way to solve the problem and it doesn’t fit with his understanding of pastoring. If they leave on their own that will be different. If he can’t win them to a larger vision then with God’s help he will be gracious and love them in the Lord — without allowing them to block the forward movement of the congregation.

SUNDAY’S BIG CHALLENGE

He awakens at 5:30 Sunday morning and lies abed a few minutes reflecting on the week past. He wonders: is pastoring just another job or is it a calling? Given the interpersonal tensions and the financial stresses and the heavy workload, is there an easier way to make a living? Most importantly, does this task have a center — something that ties it all together?

As he shaves, he thinks of the worship service just hours away. Only a pastor can know the satisfaction from caring for a flock of God’s dear people. Every part of the task has its rewards, but he reminds himself that seeing the people gather on a Sunday morning to join in Christian worship is a special joy.

It’s not just the sermon. For him, every part of worship has value. He enjoys singing selected praise choruses because they are sprightly, fresh, colorful, like garnish to a meal. The best of them contain truth in small packages. But his people can’t do without the richer content of great hymns. Who, he wonders, could sing Bernard of Clairvaux’s “Jesus, The Very Thought Of Thee,” without feeling linked to generations of believers who have sung those words together spanning 800 years?

Recently, a few in the congregation had complained that Scripture readings from Old and New Testaments in service seemed too formal. A few verses with the sermon should be enough. The complaint had led Pastor Doe only two weeks earlier to share with his board the reasons for reading Scripture as a separate act of worship. He explained that through the ages the Scriptures have been read aloud to acknowledge the authority of God’s word over his people. The Jewish people read them in their synagogues. They were read in the temple. The early Christians read them in their house churches. The Reformers rediscovered their power when read aloud. To use them sparsely in worship now would deny all this.

As he stands quietly with his musicians, praying together before entering the sanctuary to begin the service, he is suddenly aware of the prelude being played by pianist and flutist: Jesus the very thought of thee, with sweetness fills my breast …. The congregation sits quietly, waiting.

EVERY PASTOR NEEDS A FISHING ROD

Monday is always fatigue day for Pastor Doe. He sometimes putters around in the little vegetable garden behind the parsonage, but this is dangerous because needs can surface on Monday that lure him to the church. It’s best for him to get out of town and his favorite spot is the bank of a quiet river a few miles to the south. He loves to sit there under a large willow and let his fishing line dangle in the scarcely moving current. He can think or pray or read and allow the freshness of nature to renew him. The experience clears his mind, and by late afternoon he feels ready to gather up his tackle, stow the Russian novel, and get back into town. Suddenly, a new week looks challenging.

Why Does the Church Ordain for Ministry?

Do you wonder why the Church ordains to ministry?

Does it seem like a waste of energy for someone who is truly called of God — like jumping through hoops?

If so, check this link. (It’s a PDF by the way.)

www.freemethodistchurch.org/PDF%20Files/Leadership/Bishops/Ordination.pdf

Pay Attention to the Children

When my mother could see that I was seriously heading toward becoming an ordained minister, she had only one word of advice for me. She said, “Don, be sure to pay attention to the children.”

My mother was an immigrant from northern England to the rolling prairies of Saskatchewan. She and my father had homesteaded there soon after the turn of the twentieth century. She had had a sixth grade education back in Lancashire and beyond that, her cultural opportunities both there and in Canada had been sparse. But she was a godly woman with good instincts about life.

Were her instincts in this case to be trusted? After all, leading a local church today is a complex assignment, even for modest-sized churches. Sundays with their extra duties seem to come at you about every three days. And there are seemingly endless duties to perform in the interim. It’s easy to become distracted.

In the last of three churches we served, one whole end of the new Christian education building was equipped to care for the little ones. There was the crib room for infants, the middle one for the toddlers, and the larger room for the care of three-year-olds. Often, before entering the sanctuary to lead the second Sunday morning service, I would go into the toddlers room, sit on the floor, and spend a few minutes with the toddlers. This was good for them and good for me. My mother’s advice was not hard for me to take.

When Jesus’ disciples tried to shoo away the children and their parents because they thought the Lord was too busy for them, they were rebuked for their actions. “Let the little children come to me,” Jesus said, “and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these” (Luke 18:16). And after his resurrection, in giving Simon Peter his final assignment, he said, “feed my lambs” (John 21:15).

10 Tips for Young Pastors

Pastoral work is demanding. It has its peculiar stresses. But, it is also deeply satisfying when done with wisdom and care. Here are some suggestions gleaned from 22-years of pastoral ministry and another 19-years as a general church overseer.

1. Ground your ministry in daily Bible reading and prayer. Pray daily for your people. Pray often through the day. Consider that pastoral labors grounded in prayer are the “gold, silver and costly stones” the Apostle Paul speaks of as durable building materials used in pastoral labors (1Cor. 3:10-15).

2. If your study is at the church, be there at a set time each work day. I suggest 8 A.M. God honors a good work ethic.

3. Spend your mornings in sermon preparations, reading, and related study. Be diligent. If you have a secretary, have her guard these hours. Don’t allow legitimate resources to become time-wasters — the Internet, TV, video games, long telephone calls, news papers, news magazines, etc.

“If in the morning you throw moments away,
You’ll not catch them up in the course of the day.”

4. Get an exercise program and stick to it, whether it be jogging or swimming or walking or exercising to a DVD. If you have no better idea, consider, as one possibility, incorporating this routine into an extended noon hour. A jog, then a sandwich, an apple, and a beverage need take no more than an hour-and-a-quarter.

5. Do not have favorites. If your attachment to one person or couple or family becomes obvious — you meet regularly for meals together, even go camping together — this will make other members feel second rate. The pastor must be pastor to all the people all the time. If you need more intimate friendships, form them outside the congregation — with a neighboring minister, for example.

6. Never, discuss church problems in the presence of growing children.  They do not have the wisdom to handle adult problems.
Their trust may be damaged, and eventually their respect for Christ and his church.

7. If division develops over some issue (whether to launch a building program, add a staff member, change the music program, etc.) give leadership through proper channels. But don’t take sides by talking informally with one faction or the other. To do so will deepen the congregational rift and likely shorten your tenure.

8. Develop a clear understanding of your boundaries and observe them — with the opposite sex, the aged, children, young people, church officers, staff members, etc. Strive to keep all pastoral relationships above reproach.

9. However modest your income, set an example of responsible stewardship. Show leadership in tithing your income. If you have debts that are out of hand, seek professional counsel. Your care with money will increase the congregation’s trust in your leadership.

10. Never ask to borrow money from your parishioners. To do so puts parishioners at a disadvantage, may reduce their respect for you, and if not repaid as agreed may create a rift that puts your pastoral tenure at risk.

Pastoral ministry is built on the ability to preach and teach the Bible. But it is also grounded in genuine godliness, basic ethical competence, good interpersonal skills, and beyond these on common sense. These ten points do not tell the whole story but they offer some time-tested suggestions about how to avoid the traps that sometimes spring and limit or even shorten a minister’s usefulness to the Lord and a congregation.