Our church is in the middle of a pastoral call, and I spent a decent part of this year as a member of our transition team. In that role I got to survey members and aggregate their hopes and fears for the future. I also spoke with people individually about what they wanted to see in our next pastor. There was a wide diversity in the responses. But I also sensed a lot of hope for the future was placed directly on the shoulders of whomever we call. It seemed like many congregants felt like finding just the right person would solve all our problems. Young people would suddenly return to the pews. Families would tell other families about an exciting new minister. The energetic pastor would reach into areas of the community that were hungering for a revitalized faith experience. That’s a lot of expectations we’re going to dump on the person we call. It’s impossible to succeed with that level of bated breath.
Americans love hero worship. We believe that it is the individual hero who steps up to change history. We love the entrepreneur, the innovator, the bold leader. We idolize them and elevate them to mythic status. I use the words, “idolize,” and, “mythic,” purposefully here. They are mythical in the sense that their stories are not perfectly accurate yet inspire us to greatness. There is a truth in the story that may not be true in real life. These innovators in fact relied on many others to make an impact. Also, we idolize them at our own spiritual peril.
The reality is always much more complex. No one operates in a vacuum. Steve Jobs was a kind of visionary, but he also stood on the shoulders of those before him and those around him – countless engineers, designers and marketing geniuses. No iPod, iPhone, iPad or iCloud could succeed without the Internet as a platform. The Internet is an amazing collective creation.
But what is wrong with expecting a lot from your pastor? Certainly, the pastor plays a unique role. They are called to preach the word, administer means of grace, offer comfort and sometimes direction. They even interface with that scary unknown – the national office of your denomination. They play an important role in shaping our faith and fostering our reunion with God. But they are just one more member in the body of Christ.
I asked our pastor to pray for my tennis game. She said, “I’m a pastor, not a miracle worker.”
The pastor’s leadership is a unique role, but it must be rooted in the collective action and experience of the congregation. They journey with us, facing our ups and downs alongside us. They are one more member. They are only one of many leaders who step up every week as does the president of your council, the worship leader, the lay minister, the ushers, the soundboard techs, the communications team, the grounds crew and many others. I think it would be so helpful to think of the pastor in a similar way to that underrated role of the grounds crew or the chancel stewards. They are the preaching leader and the care steward. You wouldn’t pin the success or failure of your congregation on the grounds crew, although lack of curb appeal might turn potential members away. We all have roles to play.
I’m a musician so I often think of collective action in musical terms. A decent jazz act could be a single piano or it could be an entire band. One saxophonist doesn’t make a band. Yet, a great rhythm section makes the saxophonist sound better regardless of how inspired they are on a given night. There’s a reason we sing hymns collectively instead of just listening to a vocalist perform. Worship and service should be a participation, not a passive, detached observation. This is the Kingdom of God, not the WNBA All-star game.
The church is not a solitary endeavor – even Jesus brought 12 friends with him. It’s a full orchestra of musicians making music together. Every instrument, every voice, no matter how strong, contributes to the harmony. Who is more important – the composer, the conductor, the concertmaster, the first trumpet, the timpanist? I guess it depends on the piece being played.
Our national hero myth tells us that if we’re not making a unique, innovative and noteworthy contribution, we’re just cogs in a wheel. But what if being a cog is the point? What if every member was seen to be as important as the pastor? What if we all felt it was our responsibility to achieve the hopes and dreams of the congregation? We should rely on each other for our collective purpose. Finding ways to engage and involve every member is part of our welcome and respect and empowerment. It’s deeply Christian.
Each week when we say, “I believe in the communion of saints,” we should take it seriously and meditate on what collective action means for our own sainthood.
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That’s a great point. Unfortunately, I believe the opposite is also true where people leave for the wrong reasons. I have friends in Arizona who switched churches simply because they felt the new pastor was too young, not due to any serious or theological reasons. While everyone is entitled to their preferences, I personally value friends and community more than the opinion of one individual.
Could you clarify what you mean by the phrase, “This is the Kingdom of God, not the WNBA All-star game”?
I’m interpreting it to mean the idea that a religious community should focus on deeper, more meaningful spiritual matters rather than superficial judgments or preferences, similar to how an all-star game might focus on entertainment and individual performance. It suggests that the church is about collective spiritual growth and community, not about individual preferences or showmanship. Does that make sense?
Thanks Jordan. I think I like your interpretation of that line better than how I might have explained it. I write these about 4 weeks in advance so I can’t recall exactly what I was thinking when I drafted this. I think I had in mind that when we’re watching the WNBA All-Star Game we’re assuming we will never play in the WNBA, but it’s great to watch, enjoy, criticize and complain. If we see church as an all-star game in which we’re actually playing, maybe we’ll participate fully to support each other — especially the pastor and I don’t know let’s say the drummer — rather than watching or assuming someone else has got this game.