We were warned in seminary against trying to force too many changes too fast on our conservative congregations. We were cautioned about the problems of differing expectations, and told to be aware of any long-established power structures among the church leadership. We were also advised that there would be an automatic resistance to any new ideas that we, as young, inexperienced novices, right out of school, might want to attempt. We heard plenty of horror stories of how miserable life could be in the parish if you did not get along with your congregation. So, we were told, don’t try to change anything for at least a couple years until you get to know the congregation and your place in it.
My first parish was in a rural and isolated North Dakota prairie village, and it turned out to be a pleasant place for a young pastor to begin. They were used to rookies there, and they also knew that we would not be sticking around very long; none ever did (even back then it was hard to support a family on $920/month). So, they knew that no matter how incompetent and annoying we might be, they would only have to put up with us for a little while, and we’d be gone.
I kept in mind that advice about avoiding conflict as I was starting out in a new place, so I would always check with someone before I ever did anything: “Can I do it this way?… Is this what you are used to?… How should I do that…etc.” My most trusted advisor was Ken, an old faithful saint of the congregation. But Ken was getting sick of all my questions. Finally, he said, “Good grief pastor, you are the minister here, do whatever you want. You went to school to learn this stuff, not me, so figure it out. We aren’t going anywhere, so we will be here for whatever you come up with.”
It was very freeing to be given such permission, and it made that church a great place to start out. I didn’t try anything too radical, and they did keep coming, just like Ken said they would; and they were very patient with me as I figured it out. Congregations can be tough, and they can be wonderful. Those people at Christ Lutheran Church were the best. I had three great years there. And then I was gone, just like they knew I would be.
I also had the good fortune in that town of following a pastor who had apparently not heeded any of the warnings of his seminary professors, and had irritated a great many folks in the parish. The thing I heard most about him was that he was very concerned about the energy crisis. Pastor Jim apparently had decided to do his bit to conserve energy by turning other people’s vehicles off if he thought they were idling too long. It bothered him to come up town for coffee on cold winter mornings and to see on the street, out in front of Olive’s Café, ten or twelve pickups running with no one in them. Those pickup trucks were running for a reason. Their owners were in eating breakfast, visiting, having coffee, and playing cards; and when they came out two hours later, they did not want to have to get into a cold pickup; so, they left them run all the while. That might not be a good reason to waste all that gas, but it was their reason and their pickups. Well, this bothered Pastor Jim, so he would go around each morning and turn off all those pickup trucks. That was not well received by those rough, no-nonsense farmers and oil field workers. People tried to tell Jim to stay out of their pickups, but he was more concerned about the energy crisis than about getting along with his parishioners; so, when he finally left that congregation, they were glad to see him go. After Jim was gone, they got me. When I got there, all I had to do was stay out of other people’s pickup trucks, and I was well on my way to being a well-liked young minister.
It wasn’t long, however, before I learned that it is not always that easy to please everyone. Overall, though, it was a good life. As I look back over forty years and probably four thousand parishioners in six different congregations, I have almost all good memories.
There is a unique and special relationship between a pastor and those in his congregation. We get to be with people in some of life’s biggest moments; the baptism of babies, the death of loved ones, marriages, illnesses and other troubles, confirmations, and so forth. I was blessed to get to know many good people over the years (and a few cantankerous ones). And, week after week I got to proclaim Gods’ Word to people who need that Word more than anything, for their lives now and forever.
I remember many years ago when I was in seminary, I told someone I was studying to be a minister. He looked at me with a puzzled look– like he couldn’t imagine anybody wanting to do that. He then shook his head and said, “Well, I suppose somebody’s got to do it.” And I left it at that, but I remember thinking to myself, ‘No, not got to— I get to do this.” And after forty years in the parish, I still felt that way.
What I love to do most of all is to read, dig into the Bible, try to understand God’s Word, and then find ways to communicate that message to others; and for all those years I got paid to do that. There were, of course, other parts of the work, not all of which I enjoyed, but you get that with any job. Overall, I still do feel privileged to have this calling.
Now, I just do these Emailmeditations. I don’t get paid anymore, and I don’t have to. I am free to be ‘good’ for ‘nothing.’
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Philippians 1:3-6 — I thank my God every time I remember you. In all my prayers for all of you, I always pray with joy because of your partnership in the gospel from the first day until now, being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.
Acts 20:24 — But I do not account my life of any value nor as precious to myself, if only I may finish my course and the ministry that I received from the Lord Jesus, to testify to the gospel of the grace of God.
II Corinthians 4:1 — Therefore, having this ministry by the mercy of God, we do not lose heart.
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Dear God, I have begun to preach and teach your people. It is a difficult task. If it offends here and there, may there be no harm done. Since you have commanded me to preach your Word, I will not cease to do so. If it fails, it fails for you. If it succeeds, it succeeds for you. Amen.
–Martin Luther (1483-1546)
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