Talbot Davis nails it.
Talbot Davis nails it.
Chad Holtz reports on how his ministry has been impacted by not blogging or reading about the controversies in the UMC.
And praise be to God we have seen the fruit of such labor! In the past 12 weeks we have baptized 13, brought in 29 new members (with more coming this Sunday), reshaped the vision and focus of our Sunday worship from a traditional, gospel feel to a more modern/contemporary feel, and increased community awareness about the recovery ministry we are gearing up to launch in November which promises to transform hundreds if not thousands of lives in our county starving for such a holistic, Christ-centered ministry. I don’t share any of this to boast but to simply yet loudly announce this to my colleagues living in cyber space on both sides of this issue: Get off the computer and get to work!
Suppose a brother or a sister is without clothes and daily food. If one of you says to them, “Go in peace; keep warm and well fed,” but does nothing about their physical needs, what good is it? In the same way, faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead. (James 2:15-17, NIV)
I was reading in one of my pastoral care books that the point of pastoral care is not to solve people’s problems. This was a theme of my CPE experience this summer as well. We are told that when we encounter a person in spiritual and emotional pain our job is not to do anything but to be with them. Don’t try to solve their problem. Don’t try to fix them.
Of course, this advice is always offered with the assurance that “just being present” is actually doing something for them. Being there is actually doing something, but it is a kind of doing that is acceptable.
I understand the caution against running in and blindly imposing some sort of “fix” on people. I get that we at times try to “help” people when our real motive is to reduce our own discomfort with their suffering. I understand all that and appreciate the counsel to avoid such things.
But I remain unconvinced about the general stance of passivity in pastoral care. I have two primary reactions. First, it feels like it is born out of the sense that we don’t have anything to offer people who are in spiritual and emotional pain. The best we can do is be with them and affirm their experience. I just don’t buy that. We have Jesus and the gospel. Or rather Jesus has us. And since I believe this, my second concern is that taking the passive empathy approach feels like the person James writes about in the quotation at the top of this post. We have food. If we tell a spiritually hungry person, “I feel your pain. Bless you.” are we not falling afoul of James’ teaching?
I got my knuckles gently whacked in CPE this summer more than once for not being able to let go of these ideas. My new pastoral care book notices that such attitudes are the signs of an inexperienced pastoral care provider. I don’t know. Maybe I’ll grow wiser with more experience.
I will show him how much he must suffer for my name. (Acts 9:16, NIV)
I wonder if they invite Jesus to those recruitment events designed to lure young people into the ministry. Do they talk about suffering and hardship at those things? Jesus sure did.
In this encounter with Saul, I notice how little wooing is being done here. Jesus has no sales pitch. He does not even ask. He strikes him blind. He chooses Saul. What Saul wanted had nothing to do with the matter. The Kingdom of God is not a democracy. I will show him how much he must suffer for me name. Don’t even bother asking about a pension and a benefits package.
The New Testament attitude toward suffering and calling is so radically out of line with my own.
I’ve often thought that our trust issues in United Methodism would be helped with more public thinking by the men and women charged with leading our denomination.
This is why I have always valued Sky McCraken’s blog.
His latest post is a spot on example: A Pastor By Any Other Name — Revisited
The question that emerges for me after reading his post goes something like this: Would I be a pastor if there was no salary, no insurance, and no retirement plan? Would I do it because I was called and for no other reason?
If the answer is yes, then what would that look like?
The answer to my first two questions is “yes.” But I’m not sure what the answer to the third question would could be.
I wonder how you would answer.
I’ve had the opportunity this summer to lead three people in prayer to ask Christ to be their Lord and Savior. These numbers won’t show up on my official United Methodist vitality statistics because they were not at the church I served. Two of them were not closely tied to churches at all. (I urged them in strong terms to find a church and get into a community of Christians.)
So here is the question.
How much “education” do you do before you lead someone to Christ?
In these cases, I talked with them about the story of salvation. God created us to be good, happy, and at peace. We are fallen. All of us fall short of the glory of God. Jesus Christ came to save us. By belief in him and by the power of his resurrection we can have new life. By the pouring out of the Holy Spirit we can have the assurance of our salvation. By working with the Holy Spirit we can be returned to that lost vision that God had for us in creation.
This, obviously, takes some time, but it is not like a full-on twelve-week catechism class.
So, I’m curious. What is your practice?
(In case you are interested, my training in the area has come not from other pastors or at seminary, but from this book by Eddie Fox and George Morris. William J. Abraham’s little book on evangelism has also been instructive to me.)