about pastors

Pastors are a funny bunch. Since I am a pastor of the Presbyterian clan, I can speak a little about us. One afternoon while I was counseling a family at their home with their 14 year old who had been abusing alcohol, mom and dad were quieting the young man to sit still and be good in the presence of the pastor, because I was holy or something, and I think they wanted me to put the fear of God in him. After the pastoral counseling time and prayer, I shared with the young man that it appeared he was upset that I had been summoned, and I wanted to know how we were getting along, and if he was going to be okay with God and this pastor in his life. So, I asked him what he thinking and feeling and he said, “I thought you guys wore those robes all the time, and when you didn’t have it on, I thought I was in real trouble.” He then said, “Some of my friends were talking about you guys, and don’t you like have plastic on your white furniture at home?” Kathy and I invited their family over for dinner the next week, and I wore shorts and a t-shirt and made sure the house stayed a little messy.

I have been in ministry for 21 years, and I think Presbyterian pastors are the caretakers of confusion. We sit with people at the tables of leadership and are crowned moderator, and really all that means is to walk people through a three hour meeting so they can all tell about what God is doing. We then help them as they take care of confusing problems and perplexities of important pieces in the church, and watch them vote what they believe is God’s will. It is a magnificent process of spiritual discernment, and it can often create for some people, including the pastor, more confusion when it is said and done. I think God has it that way so we can remain completely dependant on God. We believe everyone has access to God, even though we would like to be able to revoke that privilege for some, and that everyone in their faith journey with God can find and discover and share in God’s direction for the church. So, we are lively listeners in the state of confusion, and God’s will is done in spite of our best efforts.

We are the purveyors of pain. We are often sent into people’s lives to help them get back on track with God, and that means helping people confess sin and tell the truth, and come before God almighty. The forgiveness that comes is not easy and can hurt as they let go, and let God take over again, and the transformation that occurs in your lives is so powerful and overwhelming for many pastors, that all we can do is weep and pray that our lives can somehow be as transparent and real before God. I think God does this so God gets all the glory and the joy of living in a relationship reconciled and returned in grace.

We are nomads of nirvana wandering in areas of nothingness, because all we do and say is always supposed to be for the glory of God, and when we mess that up and speak for ourselves, we center on our navels, and that is not too glorifying for God. The magnificent genius of the priesthood and pastorate is we are always in a state of nothingness with God, where God is everything holy and wonderful. The only thing special about pastors is that we have everything everyone else does including sharing in God’s gifts and the fruits of the Spirit. People come to us for special and important moments (baptisms, celebrating the Lord’s Supper, counseling, funerals, weddings, worship leadership, casting vision, truth telling, spiritual direction, prayer, Bible study) where God continues to be the center of their lives. We don’t have any special markings or special phones that allow us a unique access to heaven and God’s ear … and we don’t have special glasses to view scripture through which you all must come to us for the right answers. You simply trust that we are connected, and you have faith in us that we can come to God on your behalf; and oddly enough, we trust the same about you. This is one of those profound moments in a pastor’s life where we do not know what to say, except thank you.

We are searching suspicious looking servants hustling back and forth from God to you with hope, love, joy, frustration, and sin. Often we stand in the center of life looking for God, and holding people’s hands around us asking how we can be of help, and all the while looking intently for Christ in everyone’s faces and eyes.

We are humble guides to help people walk closer with God, and most of the time your lives and faith teach us just how far away we are from God. We power pray politely so everyone has access to God and is not offended, even though there are times when we would like to cry out to God on behalf of our lives in pain, and let it all go, and be messy and human. I admire those pastors who tell it like it is and who are not afraid to be transparent. We all want to be touched by God and prayer is powerful, not only because pastors use fancy words, but because God beckons us to talk with God.

Pastors perspire as we struggle to inspire people to live as children of God in a not so godly world; and that means we pray a lot. This means that our sermons are carefully crafted (some times) to draw upon God’s word to speak to your heart … and the frustrating and liberating power of this exercise every week is that God takes it all, and God does with it what you all need to hear … in spite of our poor or perfected attempts at preaching. We intercede in people’s lives and problems and joys and celebrations casting shadows in the light of God and the Bible; and that means we read a lot about God and about humanity and history. This means we are often alienated, even from other pastors, because we know too much about ourselves.

Someone once said to some pastor a long time ago after church, “Must be a great job only working on Sundays.”

Just a thought,

Pastor Tom