Best Advice

Wisdom on Ministry from 30 Leading Pastors and Preachers

William J. Carl III

• Editorial: Westminster John Knox Press
• Año: 2009
• ISBN:
  9781611640052
• Categoría: Theologie & Religion
• Categoría: Christlicher Dienst

This book gathers a diverse group of leading pastors and preachers and asks them, what is your best advice to colleagues in ministry about preaching and being a pastor? The responses are full of wisdom and practical advice, illuminating and helpful for all who are pastors and preachers. This book is a unique window into perspectives on ministry in the twenty-first century. It is an ideal book to give to one's pastor or a graduating seminarian. It is one pastors will turn to often for inspiration, insight, and wisdom.

1

What I Would Like to Tell My Colleagues in Ministry


JOANNA M. ADAMS

I would love to remind my colleagues about the life-giving power of the Holy Spirit, the unfailing promises of God, and the good news of Jesus Christ. Almost thirty years ago, I committed my life to these spiritual realities as I knelt on the sanctuary floor, had hands laid upon me, and received the peculiar office of minister of Word and Sacrament. The most important thing I have learned since that glorious ordination day is that we minister, as we live, by grace. What follows are a few other insights I have picked up along the way.

Ministry is more difficult than I thought it would be and harder than I imagined when I was ordained. My first Sunday at the downtown church to which I was called fresh out of seminary was Pentecost Sunday. I had purchased a red dress for the occasion. After worship, a lovely reception was held in the fellowship hall, complete with cucumber sandwiches, cheese straws, and lime sherbet punch. I was thoroughly enjoying meeting my new friends when an elder tapped me on the shoulder. “There are some people over there who need to speak to you.” I looked across the room, and standing at the foot of the steps were two of the saddest looking people I had ever seen.

My first reaction, which makes me feel ashamed even today, was “Who invited them to this nice party?” I got hold of myself and walked across the room in their direction. They turned out to be the first of many homeless people I would meet, a couple loaded with mental disabilities, plagued by bad luck, and without a friend in the world. The elder and I spent the afternoon trying to locate a place for them to stay the night, but there was no place in the city where a couple could find shelter together for the night. We finally took the man to the men’s mission and the woman to the women’s mission. They cried when they said goodbye to one another.

I learned that day that Jesus often comes in the person of the stranger. He stands at the door and knocks. When we let him in, we are changed forever as the elder and I were that Pentecost Sunday long ago. Our church went on to become a leader in both advocacy and compassion on behalf of the least, the left-out, and the forgotten. I learned early on that welcoming our Lord and following his way would be demanding. I found myself standing before the city council begging for public toilets. I lost many a night’s sleep while staying at the shelter we opened for our homeless friends.

As those early months turned into years, I sometimes found my eyes filling with tears as I invited the congregation to the Lord’s Table with the words, “Come unto me all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and I will give you rest.” Jesus was the stranger at the door. He was the host at the table. He was everywhere the giver of grace.

Ministry is more joyful and meaningful than I had ever imagined. What other vocation requires a person to spend time each week studying and wrestling with God’s Word, which, over time and with the aid of the Spirit, genuinely reshapes the way you understand God, other people, and yourself? I have always loved the story Walter Wink tells about the woman who walked around her small village with the Bible held high over her head. “Why do you carry that same book every day? There are so many others you could read,” she was asked. “Yes, there are,” she answered, “but this is the only book that reads me.”

What a profound privilege it is to preach most Sundays. Of course, the feelings of fear and inadequacy show up on a regular basis, but then there are those times when I cannot wait to offer the gifts God has given me in the service of God’s plan of redemption and renewal for the whole creation. Does it get any better than that? I wish there were better ways to know whether or not my preaching has been effective in ushering people into an awareness of the presence of God. The very sermon I struggled and sweated and chewed my pencil eraser over turns out to be the one somebody writes me a note about, saying, “Thank you for just the word I needed to hear today.”

The same is true in ministry. What I have found to be most satisfying are those quiet pastoral encounters that no one other than the person or people involved even know about, but in which I sense that God has allowed me to be a vessel of hope, a flesh-and-blood representative of divine love.

The bigger signs of success, such as the completion of capital campaigns and the growing number of names on the roll, seem less and less important as time goes by. What matters more are the human connections, the moments of laughter, the times of tears, the privilege of holding the babies by the baptismal font, the awesome mystery that surrounds the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper, the soul-deep thrill that comes with discovering new and effective ways to serve God and neighbor.

What matters more are the mustard seeds that get planted by hope-filled people who have confidence that God will give the growth. The greatest joy of ministry is seeing what God will do when the people of God are willing to act in faith. From those early church shelters grew more shelters, more advocacy groups, more feeding programs, more affordable housing programs, more day care centers, and more job training programs.

My first solo flight into the pulpit was not my finest hour, homiletically speaking, but at least the word got through to me. The congregations I have served have, in different ways, trusted that God could take their seemingly inconsequential offerings and do great things with them.

Ministry, at its core, is a matter of faith, hope, and love. Faith because, regardless of whether or not my own personal faith is soaring or sinking on any given day, the faith of the church across the ages holds steady, and the faithfulness of God never wavers. I have discovered that churches and church members whose taproot goes down deep into the gospel of Christ always have what it takes, not only to survive but to live abundant lives, rich in service, no matter how daunting the circumstances they are facing.

Hope because, regardless of immediate prospects, the future is in God’s hands. How does the hymn put it? “The Lord has promised good to me, His word my hope secures.” I have discovered that if you offer people just one-tenth of one ounce of hope, they can do just about anything. In recent years, I have had the privilege of helping a once dying church come back to life and set out to serve Christ in the world in new and vital ways. The secret is hope, grounded in the promise of the One who said, “See, I am making all things new” (Rev. 21:5)

Love because ministry requires the endurance of a lot of things I could have lived forever without. The bias against women in positions of authority in the church, most often hidden but no less real these days, comes to mind. The father of a bride once told me after his daughter’s wedding that as soon as the honeymoon was over, there would be another ceremony in the family’s home church, because he didn’t believe a wedding presided over by a woman “would take.”

Love because there are plenty of things to become irritable or resentful about, but neither irritability nor resentment has ever done a thing to serve the purposes of God. Over the years, I have lost what stomach I ever had for ecclesiastical combat, though the issues of inclusion remain of vital importance to me and to our church. I think of how Martin Luther King Jr., after the Montgomery bus boycott and the U.S. Supreme Court decision that ensured victory for his side, told the congregation at the Holt Street Baptist Church: “We have before us the glorious opportunity to inject a new dimension of love into the veins of our civilization…. There is still a voice crying out in terms that echo across the generations, saying, ‘Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, pray for them that despitefully use you, that you may be children of your Father which is in heaven.’ ”¹

The apostle Paul tells us that of all things, only love will last. I am not saying that love is easy, but I do say to every person who has ever asked me for advice as he or she begins a new ministry with a congregation that love is the key: “You must love the congregation as it actually is now, not as you see it one year or five years from now. You must get to know the people and love them each and all as they actually are, not as the people you want them to become after they have been transformed by your brilliant pastoral work and spell-binding preaching. Only after you have lived together in love can you move forward together in hope.”

I sometimes think of how poor Moses had to take all the Hebrew people with him through the wilderness. All of them. There must have been days when he didn’t like them and days when they didn’t like him. There were probably some who were not likeable any of the time, and Moses was surely not likeable all the time. Across the years, I have taken comfort in Frederick Buechner’s reminder that “love is not primarily an emotion but an act of will.”² Sometimes, of course, love is more than that. To love and be loved as a pastor by the people is a gift beyond measure. Even when I have let them down or somehow failed them, the people have gone with me all the way. When they have let me down, I have never stopped loving them or failed to remember that we are all sinners, saved by grace.

Know your place. By that, I mean that a minister must respect the particular context of the congregation he or she serves. I have pastored in five different parishes. Each has had its own culture, its own way of worship, its own way of reaching out to the community, and its own way of being community. You cannot transfer good ideas from place to place as if they were fungible commodities. Ask your new church to receive you as a novice, and let them teach you how to lead them.

What I would most like to tell my colleagues in ministry is not to make the mistakes I have made, but we all know that won’t do much good. For the most part, my mistakes have revolved around my tendency not to respect my human limits. Put another way, I have not known when to quit. I work on a sermon until I stand up to preach it, and then I will leave out parts of the manuscript as I substitute an idea or an illustration that comes to me as I speak.

I often work too many hours, though I was wisely warned against it by a colleague on the ministerial staff at my second church. “When are you going home? Don’t you know only the devil works seven days a week?” Over the years, I have learned the necessity of setting limits and live within them more than I used to. I have learned that if I take up all the room, there is no room for the Spirit to inspire, or for the people to be empowered. These days, I pay more attention to messages my body sends me. I pay more attention to my life and to the rich and abundant life I share with family and friends. I don’t take myself as seriously as I used to, even as I take ministry more seriously than ever. Never has the world been more in need of hearing the ever fresh, always relevant story of Jesus and his love.

Finally, I take comfort in Paul’s reassurance that “we have this treasure in clay jars, so that it might be made clear this extraordinary power belongs to God and does not come from us” (2 Cor. 4:7). There are a lot worse things to be in life than one of God’s clay jars—cracks, lumps, and all.

Notes

1. Quoted in Charles Marsh, The Beloved Community (New York: Basic Books, 2005), 1.

2. Frederick Buechner, Wishful Thinking (New York: Harper and Row, 1973), 54.

2

Listen to What the Congregation Says about Preaching


RONALD J. ALLEN

Listening is fundamental to preaching. Books, conferences, and classes in seminary and continuing education urge preachers to listen to:

• what a biblical text, Christian doctrine, or practice invites the congregation to believe and do;
• the context of the congregation—the culture, issues, feelings, and other dynamics at work in both the congregation and in the larger social world;
• their own personal and social experience—their history, what is happening to them in the moment, their own hopes and fears and questions; and
• other sources of insight (such as philosophy, the arts, political analysis, sociology, and psychology).

Over the last decades, some leaders in the field of preaching have encouraged preachers to invite members of the congregation into sermon preparation itself. John S. McClure, for instance, uses the image of a roundtable discussion to advocate a process of collaborative preaching. Preachers bring together a group of laity the week before the sermon to help identify how issues related to the biblical texts are important to them.¹ Some preachers now sponsor such feed-forward groups on a weekly basis.

Listen to What the Congregation Says about Preaching

I applaud these and other such efforts while pointing to an additional way that the preacher can listen to the congregation: Listening to what the congregation says about preaching can help ministers more deeply understand the context in which they preach so they can develop sermons that will engage the congregation. Such listening can also help a pastor come to a more penetrating understanding of other aspects of congregational culture.

This discovery began when I noticed an odd situation in the preaching world. The sermon is prepared for the congregation, but very few books, articles, speeches, and workshops that seek to help preachers develop sermons draw on what listeners themselves report as engaging (or disengaging) when they hear sermons. Most approaches to preaching are based on a particular theological point of view (e.g., Barth) or approach to philosophy, on communication theory, on different modes of literary analysis, or on the anecdotal experience of ministers. My initial scholarly work in preaching, for instance, used Susanne K. Langer’s philosophy of art, with its focus on the arts (including texts) and expressions of feeling as a way to understand biblical passages, hermeneutics, and preaching. When the literature of preaching takes a turn toward the listener, it tends to rely upon what the preacher observes about the listeners rather than on what the listeners report.

A few years ago, Christian Theological Seminary received a grant from the Lilly Endowment to interview people who regularly listen to sermons asking them to identify the qualities that draw them into preaching and those that do not. Guided by a board of professors of preaching, I served as director, with Mary Alice Mulligan as associate director. We talked with 263 people in 28 congregations—nine composed primarily of people of African American origin, sixteen of people largely of European origin, and three that were mixed along racial...

Índice

• Cover
• Title Page
• Copyright
• Dedication
• Contents
• Preface
• Chapter 1 - What I Would Like to Tell My Colleagues in Ministry: Joanna M. Adams
• Chapter 2 - Listen to What the Congregation Says about Preaching: Ronald J. Allen
• Chapter 3 - Three Temptations of the Pastor: Craig Barnes
• Chapter 4 - Toward a Definition of Preaching: David Bartlett
• Chapter 5 - Why Stay in the Church?: John Buchanan
• Chapter 6 - Side Thoughts on Preaching for Those Who Must Stammer God’s Unnamed Name: David G. Buttrick
• Chapter 7 - Preaching in a Church Where the Culture Needs to Change: William J. Carl III
• Chapter 8 - Finding the Power to Preach When You’re Exhausted: Jana Childers
• Chapter 9 - The Signature Sermon: Fred B. Craddock
• Chapter 10 - Dealing with Diversity: Miguel A. De La Torre
• Chapter 11 - Being Repairers of the Breach: Katharine Rhodes Henderson
• Chapter 12 - Don’t Take My Advice: James C. Howell
• Chapter 13 - You Don’t Have All the Answers—and That’s Okay!: Mary Lin Hudson
• Chapter 14 - Imagination and the Exegetical Exercise: Cleophus J. Larue
• Chapter 15 - In Loco Pastoris: Michael L. Lindvall
• Chapter 16 - Keeping Your Eye on the Ball: Wisdom for Preachers from the Splendid Splinter: Thomas G. Long
• Chapter 17 - Preaching: Some Affirmations and Admonitions: Jennifer Lord
• Chapter 18 - Preaching From, With, and For: John S. Mcclure
• Chapter 19 - Homiletical Proverbs: Alyce M. Mckenzie
• Chapter 20 - To Keep My Head Clear: Earl Palmer
• Chapter 21 - Embracing the Church God Gave Me: Eugene Peterson
• Chapter 22 - Do You Love Me?: Hyung Cheon Rim
• Chapter 23 - How to Be an Effective Pastor and Preacher: Joseph L. Roberts Jr.
• Chapter 24 - Love God, Love Your People: Marguerite Shuster
• Chapter 25 - An Old Preacher’s Unsolicited Advice: Gardner Taylor
• Chapter 26 - I Thank You, God, My Heart Is Beating: The Place of Elemental Prayer in a Preacher’s Life: Thomas H. Troeger
• Chapter 27 - Learning and the Life of the Pastor: Leanne Van Dyk
• Chapter 28 - Questions for the Preacher: Dawn Ottoni Wilhelm
• Chapter 29 - My Advice for Preachers: William H. Willimon
• Chapter 30 - Loving a Peculiar People: Steven Toshio Yamaguchi
• Contributors