Some assume Eugene had an inbred revulsion for the modern addictions to success and winning, as though his loathing for these driven impulses were simply part of his DNA. Quite the contrary. Eugene was so attuned to the temptations because they were such deep struggles in his own soul.
I love the distinction here of busy pastors doing things for God versus pastors who spend time with God. I can't help thinking about the past year and how the church has been affected by the pandemic. It was a time to slow down and spend more time with God, because churches literally couldn't do a lot of the things that they usually do to be busy (at least this was my experience). I know that churches are busy places, no matter what, but I do hope that we can come out of this pandemic and take some of the slower rhythms with us into the future. I have missed my church family and worshiping as a body a great deal during the past year, but as we begin to gather again, I know I feel some hesitation to jump right into the same kind of schedule that I had before everything shut down. My hope is that during this past year, many of us spent more time with God than we ever had, and hopefully that can shape churches going forward.
I think a pastor that spends more time with God than being busy doing things for God will be more intentional with his church. I think that the intentionality helps a pastor see the needs of congregants more clearly because I don't think needs are always clear or easy to identify. I think if a pastor is spending time with God and is intentional in the way she pastors, the ministries in the church are naturally affected by that relationship and are more likely to be focused on true ministry needs and not just doing things for the sake of doing them. I think different questions start being asked and I think goals are different when we are being shaped by God. Ultimately, I also think it's more exciting. It might be slow-going, and seem to take a while, but in my experience, when we're being shaped by God, we can go on journeys we've never been on before (and we can find ourselves in some wild places!)
I loved how this section ended. "He possessed a dogged commitment to his immediate place, to his holy charge to pastor this one (at times fledgling) community of ordinary people. And he exhibited a resolute determination to resist the siren songs insisting he must push to make something of himself and build something 'significant' at Christ Our King."
This has been true for our ministry as well. Lots of "good things" were going on, but we were choosing good things at the expense of the "best thing" -- communion with our Creator and soaking in His Word. Covid has been such a blessing, while also being devastating for others. It is hard to be overly joyous because of the pain and loss it has caused, but for me personally, I am grateful.
I love Collier's line, "Worship was the call. Worship was the work." One thing that happens when we approach pastoral ministry this way is that the badlands of ministry (I love that image!) become the very place that God refreshes us--as Eugene noted in a journal entry. I've experienced that. Some of my most frustrating stretches of ministry have been the occasion for experiencing God's encouragement and refreshment. I wouldn't want to relive these experiences; yet I cherish them. Of course, they have also revealed ways in which I've strayed from keeping worship central as the call and work of ministry. Yes, the badlands have called me back to worship as the heart of my vocation when I have gotten too preoccupied with simply running the church.
Scott, I think Peterson's words, attitude, and actions line up beautifully with your own from your book "Pastor Paul." Since entering the pastoral role, I have always believed that the primary purpose of a church pastor is to create, develop, and nurture church cultures of what you refer to as "Christoformity." This, of course, includes being present with people in times of distress, sickness, uncertainty, etc., but is primarily about leading and modeling others into Christlikeness. As such, probably at least 75% of my sermons are geared towards this goal. Also, while Scripture and theological study are important, I have found that small groups - which we model on the old Methodist class meetings - have been exceptional in the spiritual formation of congregants (and myself).
Good thoughts Jerry, going to have to think on this some more. Our mission adviser last week encouraged our team with the japanese concept of "nemawashi", which is applied to social and organizational contexts but really is an agricultural concept. Getting our hands down in the dirt around a plant, to work up the soil, release nutrients and nurture the growth of a young plant. Perhaps this is a helpful way for us to think of Christoformity, by starting in how we should consider the Incarnation, of the Creator coming down and "nemawashi" for us by taking on flesh (create - getting hands down in the dirt so to speak), learning obedience (develop and release nutrients), being a faithful and understanding high priest and giving us the pattern to follow (nurture the culture).
What happens to a church? It's a parallel process. I especially liked this section of the book. I liked the story of the letters he wrote to the NCD exaggerating stories to see if they were read. Collier writes, "For Eugene the experience was more sorrowful than humorous. He was alone. No one was looking out for him." Instead they were focused on "financial reports, attendance graphs, program planning." It left him feeling abandoned and uncared for by those who were to look out for him. He chose to pastor differently: "....slow, personal, attuned to God and to the lives of tose in his parish." His "Amen" letter communicated this. The names on his desk was evidence of this. Hearing of his choosing to be pastored himself by Alexander Whyte. "I had already prepared the sermon I would preach that day--now I let him preach to me." I am not sure who said it, but I've resonated with the quote: "The greatest master is not the one with the most students, but the one with the most masters." The seminary profs who mark their students are the lifelong learners.
I resonate with the imagery of the Badlands, which for Eugene lasted 6 years. I have myself been wrestling with what it means to be a pastor over the past year, as many (including close friends) have left our church over political and pandemic-related disagreements. It has been pushing me toward cynicism in my role- is a pastor just a glorified event planner? A mere figurehead for religious duty? Someone whose hand you shake on Sunday so you can check that off the weekly to-do list, while actually building your life around the teaching of John MacArthur, Ben Shapiro, or Fox News? These chapters provided a refreshing drink of water in my own little desert, reminding me of the beautiful calling and purpose of a shepherd - prayer, love, spiritual direction, and faithfulness. I love the idea of the contemplative pastor.
The badlands imagery impacted me in a similar way. The parallels between his story and the challenges of pastoring in the last year both comforted and encouraged me. It reminded me that going through the badlands (whatever form it takes) is a big part of how Christoformity takes shape in all of us, pastor and people alike.
"As families poured from Baltimore into the suburban comforts of Bel Air, an obsession with safety fueled isolation and a basic, compulsive self-centering. The response to fear or insecurity was not community solidarity or renewed peacemaking. It was to hunker - the least Christline posture possible. ... The community did not need a church to craft little programs to assuage their consciences or perceived needs for safety. It needed the church to invite people into a new reality ruled by the kingdom of God. Christ our King needed to worship." (p. 125)
Though Collier is writing about a specific church, and Eugene was seeing this in a specific church, I can't help but think this is a larger, societal issue among Christian churches - fear as a first response, rather than love or acceptance.
This was one of my favorite parts of the book. So much I resonated with and many of these quotations highlighted here, I highlighted as well. The quote that saddened me: "The people who ordained me and took responsibility for my work were interested in financial reports, attendance graphs, program planning. But they were not interested in me. They were interested in my job; they cared little for my vocation." I have definitely often felt this, and hear this from so many people I've talked to, even people who have served as volunteers in the church. So often, we have built this machine and people are merely cogs in the machine, keeping it going.
I love how Chapter 10 ends: "And he exhibited a resolute determination to resist the siren songs insisting he must push to make something of himself and build something 'significant' at Christ Our King. These convictions were forged in the long stretch of desert years when his commitments were severely tested." Thankful for Collier detailing Peterson's trek through the "badlands." We are inundated with stories and pictures of pastoral "success," while Peterson's years of painfully plowing through the wilderness is probably closer to what many of us in ministry have experienced, and they are important for our formation.
Peterson's writings have been the most influential upon my role as a pastor. One that stands out, 'You can't preach to people on Sunday if you are not having coffee with them on Monday.' Fits well these chapters where the crucible of the ordinary -helped shaped Peterson, and helped shaped so many others...
I've currently come to see if a pastor's focus isn't God & people first, anything else can take the place of God & people. Thank you for posting this. Indeed, the business model is for businesses. The Biblical model is for Biblically functioning communities of believers. While each can learn & apply variables from the other, may they each stay in their lane!
When I read the journal excerpts on pages 138-139, I am convinced that only a pastor carrying on a vital inner life with God could write it. His self-awareness, his genuine joy for the other guy and the congregation, his practiced humility overcoming natural pride and competitiveness, his excitement over a glimpse of God's working, as well as the perceptiveness that this glimpse was given so that unseeing faith could be practiced later... What spiritual sensitivity and maturity we see on these pages! This vitality of an ongoing spiritual connection with God - it is just such a person who is equipped to shepherd brothers and sisters and congregations through all manner of suffering, doubts, fears, etc. How sad it is that our church culture wants our pastors to be busy.
These are all wonderful comments and I'm just watching and reading and basking in this conversation. Thanks to each of you.
My favorite quotation from this week’s reading:
Some assume Eugene had an inbred revulsion for the modern addictions to success and winning, as though his loathing for these driven impulses were simply part of his DNA. Quite the contrary. Eugene was so attuned to the temptations because they were such deep struggles in his own soul.
I so like that as well! One reason this will be a good re-read, eh?
I love the distinction here of busy pastors doing things for God versus pastors who spend time with God. I can't help thinking about the past year and how the church has been affected by the pandemic. It was a time to slow down and spend more time with God, because churches literally couldn't do a lot of the things that they usually do to be busy (at least this was my experience). I know that churches are busy places, no matter what, but I do hope that we can come out of this pandemic and take some of the slower rhythms with us into the future. I have missed my church family and worshiping as a body a great deal during the past year, but as we begin to gather again, I know I feel some hesitation to jump right into the same kind of schedule that I had before everything shut down. My hope is that during this past year, many of us spent more time with God than we ever had, and hopefully that can shape churches going forward.
I think a pastor that spends more time with God than being busy doing things for God will be more intentional with his church. I think that the intentionality helps a pastor see the needs of congregants more clearly because I don't think needs are always clear or easy to identify. I think if a pastor is spending time with God and is intentional in the way she pastors, the ministries in the church are naturally affected by that relationship and are more likely to be focused on true ministry needs and not just doing things for the sake of doing them. I think different questions start being asked and I think goals are different when we are being shaped by God. Ultimately, I also think it's more exciting. It might be slow-going, and seem to take a while, but in my experience, when we're being shaped by God, we can go on journeys we've never been on before (and we can find ourselves in some wild places!)
I loved how this section ended. "He possessed a dogged commitment to his immediate place, to his holy charge to pastor this one (at times fledgling) community of ordinary people. And he exhibited a resolute determination to resist the siren songs insisting he must push to make something of himself and build something 'significant' at Christ Our King."
This has been true for our ministry as well. Lots of "good things" were going on, but we were choosing good things at the expense of the "best thing" -- communion with our Creator and soaking in His Word. Covid has been such a blessing, while also being devastating for others. It is hard to be overly joyous because of the pain and loss it has caused, but for me personally, I am grateful.
I love Collier's line, "Worship was the call. Worship was the work." One thing that happens when we approach pastoral ministry this way is that the badlands of ministry (I love that image!) become the very place that God refreshes us--as Eugene noted in a journal entry. I've experienced that. Some of my most frustrating stretches of ministry have been the occasion for experiencing God's encouragement and refreshment. I wouldn't want to relive these experiences; yet I cherish them. Of course, they have also revealed ways in which I've strayed from keeping worship central as the call and work of ministry. Yes, the badlands have called me back to worship as the heart of my vocation when I have gotten too preoccupied with simply running the church.
Scott, I think Peterson's words, attitude, and actions line up beautifully with your own from your book "Pastor Paul." Since entering the pastoral role, I have always believed that the primary purpose of a church pastor is to create, develop, and nurture church cultures of what you refer to as "Christoformity." This, of course, includes being present with people in times of distress, sickness, uncertainty, etc., but is primarily about leading and modeling others into Christlikeness. As such, probably at least 75% of my sermons are geared towards this goal. Also, while Scripture and theological study are important, I have found that small groups - which we model on the old Methodist class meetings - have been exceptional in the spiritual formation of congregants (and myself).
Good thoughts Jerry, going to have to think on this some more. Our mission adviser last week encouraged our team with the japanese concept of "nemawashi", which is applied to social and organizational contexts but really is an agricultural concept. Getting our hands down in the dirt around a plant, to work up the soil, release nutrients and nurture the growth of a young plant. Perhaps this is a helpful way for us to think of Christoformity, by starting in how we should consider the Incarnation, of the Creator coming down and "nemawashi" for us by taking on flesh (create - getting hands down in the dirt so to speak), learning obedience (develop and release nutrients), being a faithful and understanding high priest and giving us the pattern to follow (nurture the culture).
What happens to a church? It's a parallel process. I especially liked this section of the book. I liked the story of the letters he wrote to the NCD exaggerating stories to see if they were read. Collier writes, "For Eugene the experience was more sorrowful than humorous. He was alone. No one was looking out for him." Instead they were focused on "financial reports, attendance graphs, program planning." It left him feeling abandoned and uncared for by those who were to look out for him. He chose to pastor differently: "....slow, personal, attuned to God and to the lives of tose in his parish." His "Amen" letter communicated this. The names on his desk was evidence of this. Hearing of his choosing to be pastored himself by Alexander Whyte. "I had already prepared the sermon I would preach that day--now I let him preach to me." I am not sure who said it, but I've resonated with the quote: "The greatest master is not the one with the most students, but the one with the most masters." The seminary profs who mark their students are the lifelong learners.
I resonate with the imagery of the Badlands, which for Eugene lasted 6 years. I have myself been wrestling with what it means to be a pastor over the past year, as many (including close friends) have left our church over political and pandemic-related disagreements. It has been pushing me toward cynicism in my role- is a pastor just a glorified event planner? A mere figurehead for religious duty? Someone whose hand you shake on Sunday so you can check that off the weekly to-do list, while actually building your life around the teaching of John MacArthur, Ben Shapiro, or Fox News? These chapters provided a refreshing drink of water in my own little desert, reminding me of the beautiful calling and purpose of a shepherd - prayer, love, spiritual direction, and faithfulness. I love the idea of the contemplative pastor.
The badlands imagery impacted me in a similar way. The parallels between his story and the challenges of pastoring in the last year both comforted and encouraged me. It reminded me that going through the badlands (whatever form it takes) is a big part of how Christoformity takes shape in all of us, pastor and people alike.
My favorite quotation from this week's reading:
"As families poured from Baltimore into the suburban comforts of Bel Air, an obsession with safety fueled isolation and a basic, compulsive self-centering. The response to fear or insecurity was not community solidarity or renewed peacemaking. It was to hunker - the least Christline posture possible. ... The community did not need a church to craft little programs to assuage their consciences or perceived needs for safety. It needed the church to invite people into a new reality ruled by the kingdom of God. Christ our King needed to worship." (p. 125)
Though Collier is writing about a specific church, and Eugene was seeing this in a specific church, I can't help but think this is a larger, societal issue among Christian churches - fear as a first response, rather than love or acceptance.
This was one of my favorite parts of the book. So much I resonated with and many of these quotations highlighted here, I highlighted as well. The quote that saddened me: "The people who ordained me and took responsibility for my work were interested in financial reports, attendance graphs, program planning. But they were not interested in me. They were interested in my job; they cared little for my vocation." I have definitely often felt this, and hear this from so many people I've talked to, even people who have served as volunteers in the church. So often, we have built this machine and people are merely cogs in the machine, keeping it going.
I love how Chapter 10 ends: "And he exhibited a resolute determination to resist the siren songs insisting he must push to make something of himself and build something 'significant' at Christ Our King. These convictions were forged in the long stretch of desert years when his commitments were severely tested." Thankful for Collier detailing Peterson's trek through the "badlands." We are inundated with stories and pictures of pastoral "success," while Peterson's years of painfully plowing through the wilderness is probably closer to what many of us in ministry have experienced, and they are important for our formation.
Peterson's writings have been the most influential upon my role as a pastor. One that stands out, 'You can't preach to people on Sunday if you are not having coffee with them on Monday.' Fits well these chapters where the crucible of the ordinary -helped shaped Peterson, and helped shaped so many others...
I've currently come to see if a pastor's focus isn't God & people first, anything else can take the place of God & people. Thank you for posting this. Indeed, the business model is for businesses. The Biblical model is for Biblically functioning communities of believers. While each can learn & apply variables from the other, may they each stay in their lane!
When I read the journal excerpts on pages 138-139, I am convinced that only a pastor carrying on a vital inner life with God could write it. His self-awareness, his genuine joy for the other guy and the congregation, his practiced humility overcoming natural pride and competitiveness, his excitement over a glimpse of God's working, as well as the perceptiveness that this glimpse was given so that unseeing faith could be practiced later... What spiritual sensitivity and maturity we see on these pages! This vitality of an ongoing spiritual connection with God - it is just such a person who is equipped to shepherd brothers and sisters and congregations through all manner of suffering, doubts, fears, etc. How sad it is that our church culture wants our pastors to be busy.