It was he who gave some to be apostles, some to be prophets, some to be evangelists, and some to be pastors and teachers, to prepare God's people for works of service, so that the body of Christ may be built up until we all reach unity in the faith and in the knowledge of the Son of God and become mature, attaining to the whole measure of the fullness of Christ. (Ephesians 4:11-13)
October is Pastor Appreciation Month, so it seems appropriate to take a moment and reflect on what it means to be a pastor, and what pastors mean to us. Being a pastor - much like being a teacher, a nurse, a parent, and so many other things - involves much more than the title implies. At first glance, it might seem that a pastor simply delivers a sermon on Sunday mornings, and officiates weddings and funerals when requested. Assuming this is all that pastors do (it's not), even these things require much more planning, preparation, skill, and faith than we realize, and they are almost never performed on the nine-to-five schedule that many of us are accustomed to. A sermon is not just a speech; it is an oratory spiritual meal for congregants. A wedding is not just a rite or a ceremony; it is the joining of two lives in commitment to God and each other. A funeral is not just a final farewell to the dearly departed; it is a reassurance of the risen Christ for the grieving and brokenhearted. I've not performed any of these duties, but I have witnessed them performed many times. The words a pastor uses, and the manner in which he delivers them, have the capacity to inspire one to faith in Christ and to heal a broken heart - or not. No pressure, right?
Of course, there are countless things that parishioners, wedding parties, and mourners never see of their pastors, among them: prayer; triaging the needs of those who enter the church building, call, or email looking for help; juggling the business aspects of keeping the doors of the church facility open; being creative while also being true to the Gospel; visiting the sick, grieving, and shut-ins of the community; fielding multiple questions, suggestions and complaints of church members; and inspiring others to service by engaging in frequent, humble service themselves. Pastors choose a vocation that causes their every word and action to be subject to scrutiny, both from those inside the faith and from those outside the faith looking for any excuse to discredit Christianity.
What does your pastor mean to you? The word "pastor" has the Latin root of "pastorem," meaning shepherd, and more specifically "to tend, keep, pasture, feed, guard, protect." Among those descriptors, the one that stands out to me is the word "feed." Christ saves, redeems, and sustains us through His life-giving blood and the gift of the Holy Spirit. He alone is the leader of the Church. But pastors feed our faith in word and deed. They teach us, comfort us, hold us accountable, and inspire us to service. Such is a calling of utmost responsibility and honor.
Thank you, Pastor Norm, Brian, Deona, Debbie, and all at Christ Church in the past, present, and future who have impacted our community (and us individually) for Christ. We appreciate you! Let us take a moment this month - and anytime the Spirit moves us - to thank and pray for all those in our lives who have fed our faith, whether they are ordained or not.
Thursday, October 17, 2013
Sunday, October 6, 2013
Walking in Obedience
And this is love: that we walk in obedience to his commands. As you have heard from the beginning, his command is that you walk in love. (2 John 1:6)
A while ago, I asked God to guide me and show me how I can best serve Him. I've long known that to counsel and otherwise tend to victims of crime was my calling, and I have pursued that calling in my professional life. But there is a longing to hone that calling in ways that intentionally expose these victims to the healing love and grace of Christ. Only Jesus can heal the deepest of wounds, and the desire to share that truth has been impressed upon me with greater urgency of late. So I asked God to illuminate ways in which I could satisfy that urgency in accordance with His will.
A word of caution, in case you were usure about this: God answers prayer, but not always in the way you expect. Rarely does He choose the path of least resistance.
In addition to calling me to walk more fully in my own truth as a victim of crime, a walk that produces both pain and freedom, God has recently placed a most unusual challenge in my path that jars me out of my comfort zone. I have a dear friend, an amazing man and elder brother in Christ, whose calling is ministering to prisoners. For years, he has prayed with prisoners, led Bible studies among them, and taught them to read God's Word. An untold number of prisoners have come to faith in Christ through my friend's willingness to minister to them. We have supported each other in prayer over the years. In the past few months, he has begun doing what has always been his greatest desire - counseling inmates on death row. Over lunch recently, he asked me to pray specifically and frequently for a particular prisoner he is counseling, someone destined to die for a crime so horrific it turns my stomach and summons an anguish I'd rather not feel.
My friend knows that what he is asking of me is not easy. He knows that I've spent countless hours with hundreds of crime victims and their loved ones who have suffered the terrible impact of human cruelty, some of them on the brink of death themselves. He knows that I have tasted that suffering myself, and it is bitter. To honestly and purposefully pray for the salvation of one who has caused such immense suffering is a daunting request, and one never before presented to me. As you can imagine, my friend has very few supporters, very few people in his life that agree with what he's doing or have sympathy for the importance or difficulty of it. If I'm being honest with you, the temptation to join the ranks of those detractors is strong, and I am ever weak.
Ultimately, I cannot refuse my faithful friend's request, nor can I refuse the opportunity God has placed in my path to grow in my own faith. If I believe in the salvation and healing power of Christ, who pulled me from the pit of my own sin and despair, how can I not pray for that same salvation and healing for a man whose days are literally numbered? My Jesus knows no depth too deep, no sin too awful, no person too fallen. Grace is for all who choose to believe, not just those I deem worthy. After all, there is a scar somewhere on my Lord's precious body that has my name on it.
The lesson in all this for me is that I cannot faithfully and effectively pursue a ministry of sharing the truth and grace of Christ with anyone unless I am willing to share that truth and grace with everyone. To withhold God's love from anyone who needs it is to deny what Jesus did for me on the cross.
May we all walk in obedience to His love. It's okay if it's not easy. Obedience rarely is.
A while ago, I asked God to guide me and show me how I can best serve Him. I've long known that to counsel and otherwise tend to victims of crime was my calling, and I have pursued that calling in my professional life. But there is a longing to hone that calling in ways that intentionally expose these victims to the healing love and grace of Christ. Only Jesus can heal the deepest of wounds, and the desire to share that truth has been impressed upon me with greater urgency of late. So I asked God to illuminate ways in which I could satisfy that urgency in accordance with His will.
A word of caution, in case you were usure about this: God answers prayer, but not always in the way you expect. Rarely does He choose the path of least resistance.
In addition to calling me to walk more fully in my own truth as a victim of crime, a walk that produces both pain and freedom, God has recently placed a most unusual challenge in my path that jars me out of my comfort zone. I have a dear friend, an amazing man and elder brother in Christ, whose calling is ministering to prisoners. For years, he has prayed with prisoners, led Bible studies among them, and taught them to read God's Word. An untold number of prisoners have come to faith in Christ through my friend's willingness to minister to them. We have supported each other in prayer over the years. In the past few months, he has begun doing what has always been his greatest desire - counseling inmates on death row. Over lunch recently, he asked me to pray specifically and frequently for a particular prisoner he is counseling, someone destined to die for a crime so horrific it turns my stomach and summons an anguish I'd rather not feel.
My friend knows that what he is asking of me is not easy. He knows that I've spent countless hours with hundreds of crime victims and their loved ones who have suffered the terrible impact of human cruelty, some of them on the brink of death themselves. He knows that I have tasted that suffering myself, and it is bitter. To honestly and purposefully pray for the salvation of one who has caused such immense suffering is a daunting request, and one never before presented to me. As you can imagine, my friend has very few supporters, very few people in his life that agree with what he's doing or have sympathy for the importance or difficulty of it. If I'm being honest with you, the temptation to join the ranks of those detractors is strong, and I am ever weak.
Ultimately, I cannot refuse my faithful friend's request, nor can I refuse the opportunity God has placed in my path to grow in my own faith. If I believe in the salvation and healing power of Christ, who pulled me from the pit of my own sin and despair, how can I not pray for that same salvation and healing for a man whose days are literally numbered? My Jesus knows no depth too deep, no sin too awful, no person too fallen. Grace is for all who choose to believe, not just those I deem worthy. After all, there is a scar somewhere on my Lord's precious body that has my name on it.
The lesson in all this for me is that I cannot faithfully and effectively pursue a ministry of sharing the truth and grace of Christ with anyone unless I am willing to share that truth and grace with everyone. To withhold God's love from anyone who needs it is to deny what Jesus did for me on the cross.
May we all walk in obedience to His love. It's okay if it's not easy. Obedience rarely is.
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