Chapters 7 & 8

What do ministers do? 

Lillian Daniel suggests they “play in the band.”   It’s hard to disagree – the New Testament image of the church as the “body of Christ” plainly asserts that the church isn’t supposed to be the realm of superstars – no, it’s a organic system that works best when an assortment of various characters play coordinated roles to accomplish a God-driven outcome.

But a lot of time it doesn’t work that way.  Instead of being an orchestrated symphony of many players working together for a common end, many churches seem to be textbook examples of systemic under-function/over-function.  It’s a solo act, masquerading as a band concert.

In too many congregations, clergy run themselves ragged while the folk in the pews can’t quite figure out whether they have a part to play.  It’s as if all but one of the band members are standing to the side while one hyperkinetic person desperately moves from guitar to bass to drums trying to produce something resembling music. 

It doesn’t work very well.  The temptation, of course (for clergy), is to blame lazy lay folk.  But as often as not, someone DID try picking up an instrument once upon a time.  Upon hitting the first poorly tuned note, however, the “professional” stepped in, politely took over the “axe” and has been playing it (and all the other instruments) ever since. 

Not only that, but in her spare time, the pastor can be heard to complain about her uncommitted people.  Hmmmm…….

Martin Copenhaver’s essay just may suggest a way out of this sorry state of affairs.  Copenhaver assumes that the act of praying can produce prayerfulness – that choosing to care can make one caring – that acknowledging failure can produce humility.

Sometimes we clergy fall into the trap of approaching our work as if its essence were a technical thing which if done with technical excellence will produce….well……excellent ministry.

But I doubt it.  For all of my pastoral life I’ve been inspired (and more than a bit chagrined), by Paul’s admonition in Philippians 4:9 – “Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me – put it into practice.”  On the whole, Paul didn’t lack for self-confidence, but I don’t think Paul was extolling his own virtuous piety when he wrote this stunning line – I think he was endorsing a remarkable kind of transparency and acknowledging that humans mostly grow and are transformed not so much by wonderful and lofty ideas, as by genuine and transparent relationships.  Paul lived his life – the good and the bad (and there was both), for all to see. 

I work hard to be honestly transparent – in good times and bad; on days of admirable achievement and on days of embarrassing failure – in the doing of my pastoral ministry.  It’s easy to do so when things go well, but when they don’t, rather than trying to hide my failure, I ask for forgiveness and seek grace to do better next time. 

I’m a member of the band – trying to play the bass (I think Daniel is exactly right about that) in a way that sets direction and invites cohesion.  I try not to usurp the role of the other players, and when I get my line wrong – I try not to cover it up, or pretend it didn’t happen, but to acknowledge my screw-up and ask the band’s help in getting it right next time.  In so doing, I’ve often found that I’m made better than I am.

Amazing!

Rich Pleva