At 9:00 he hears his administrative assistant arrive, and the phone in the office next to his study begins to ring. His assistant thoughtfully protects his morning preparation time 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 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 Jerry Falwell.
There'll
be no time for jogging this noon hour. By 12:20 Pastor Doe is enjoying his
lunch alone, and, after a short time for quietness, 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.The hospital is just across town, so by 3:15 he's back at the church to keep 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 with little provocation. Pastor Doe has had a good relationship with Alene so he assures the mother 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 goes through the hymn book and chorus sheets to choose congregational songs for next Sunday's morning service. The couple arrive. They're students at a community college and they 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 calm them and enable them to talk rationally about solutions. He suggests they talk with their parents about setting an earlier wedding date, and he makes another appointment to see them.
At 5:50 he arrives home for dinner. After a pleasant meal he has time to play a computer game with his 10-year-old son, Thomas, and read a Bible story to his 5-year-old daughter, Cheryl. At 7:50 he slips away to look in on the newly formed building committee, which is meeting 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 new medication for Cheryl's asthma, the van's need of new tires, and conflict at the child-care center where Lenore works.
Not
Without Anxieties
It was a successful Tuesday, but it hadn't started that way. Before leaving
for the church, his own morning 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, as far as they were concerned, the church was paying its bills,
the building was kept up well, 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 halfway. Maybe
trouble was ahead.
This wasn't the way he liked to spend his prayer time. Before he had left
his room he had tried to commit the matter to the Lord, but he wasn't
pleased with the way the problem had gotten to him. He had confessed his
failure, entreated for grace and gone on to face the day.
Bright and early Wednesday morning Pastor Doe is on his way to a conference
in a city 120 miles to the north. At the one-day interdenominational pastors
conference the main speaker is a young man who in five years has grown
a church of 88 members into a congregation of 850. Pastor Doe's desire
to grow his own church makes him eager to hear this man. He'll also see
some longtime pastor friends. On the two-and-a-half-hour trip he listens
to two "Preaching Today" cassettes.
When the main speaker is introduced, there is instant engagement with
the 200 pastors. He is tall and sinewy with a ruddy face and sandy, curly
hair. He establishes rapport with a couple of preacher stories and then
begins to tell how he achieved remarkable growth at his church. For example,
he explains that he eased out of the membership a few who were obviously
not going to support him. (Pastor Doe flinches inwardly.) Then, he completely
revamped the forms of Sunday worship to make them more upbeat, 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 tells those
at the conference, that he was in charge, and that "sometimes you
have to lose a hundred to gain a thousand."
His message troubles Pastor Doe. It sounds like power tactics, like how
a captain of industry might turn around an ailing operation by treating
employees as mere units of productivity, dismissing longtime workers and
bringing in new personnel -- always with his eye on the bottom line.
Pastor Doe gets home by 8:00; the children are in bed and 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. He is confused. Power
tactics can be alluring; they certainly seem to have been effective in
one pastor's good cause.
Lenore 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 knows these are the speaker's desires too,
but the methods seem heavy-handed. Lenore reminds him of Jesus' words:
"I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for
the sheep" (John 10:11).
As they talk, the fog lifts. With resolution, he remembers that God has
called him to be a servant to his people, to offer creative leadership,
to attempt to lead them into greener pastures. He wants to succeed as
much as anyone, but he isn't willing to reinvent himself as an authoritarian
boss. Pastoral authority, as he understands it, is 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 who will soon be moved to a full-care
facility after 54 years in their own home; visits with two new families;
a conversation with an anguished young man who has just been served divorce
papers; a look-in on the growing youth group meeting at the nearby school
gym.
By telephone he learns that one of his members invited a neighbor to a
women's morning Bible study, and after only three lessons the neighbor
has professed faith in Christ. A shaken father phones to say that they
have a pregnant teen-age daughter, and she is hostile and defiant about
it; the family needs prayer.
Family
Time
Friday night is special for the Does. It's family night. 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 their children
were getting lost in the shuffle in this busy church, his wife and he
had decided to devote Friday nights solely to them. The children love
it.
Saturday morning Pastor Doe is 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
taking care of 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 has tried. 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
Pastor Doe awakens at 5:30 Sunday morning and lies in bed a few minutes
reflecting on the past week. 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, did all his comings and goings this past week have a
center -- something that ties it all together?
As he shaves, he thinks of the worship service only hours away. There's
satisfaction that only a pastor can know in caring for a flock of God's
dear people. Every part of the task has its rewards, but he reminds himself
that there is something special about seeing the people gather on a Sunday
morning to join in Christian worship.
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 appetizers to a meal. He knows the best of them contain
truth in small packages. But he believes 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, spanning 800 years, have sung
those words together?
Recently, a few in the congregation had complained that Scripture readings
from the Old and New Testaments seem 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 the
whole service, and to reaffirm the truth of the gospel of Christ. He reviewed
with them several things their church confesses about the Scriptures --
they are "uniquely inspired," "trustworthy," "completely
truthful" and "authoritative over all human life." To use
them sparsely in worship would deny these beliefs.
As he stands quietly now 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; But sweeter far thy face to see,
and in thy presence rest." The congregation sits quietly, waiting.
Every
Pastor Needs a Fishing Rod
Monday is always fatigue day for Pastor Doe. On Monday he lets down. When
the season is right he sometimes putters around in the little vegetable
garden behind the parsonage, but this is dangerous because routine congregational
needs can surface on Monday and 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 he brought along, and get back into town.
He's ready to face a new, challenging week.
