I Kissed a Pastor and I Liked It

I sometimes kiss my pastor in his office. It’s quite the scandal. Just a few years ago, I was married to a businessman. Things are quite different now. I live in a different state, attend a new church, and work for my pastor. The good news is that the pastor and the businessman are the same person.

The ongoing joke between my pastor-husband and me is that I married a Philistine. When we were dating, Tim introduced me to all things Schwartzneggar and Brian De Palma. He regretted the De Palma incident (“Body Double”--yuck), but I did become a Terminator fan. Probably out of guilt, he agreed to see “Amadeus” with me, and the Philistine discovered that period films did not have to be sleep-inducing. I also introduced him to tea drinking in huge quantities. Or my mother did (see my blog post on Kate).

Admittedly, the Philistine married a snob. I’d rather read a book than watch a football game. I turn my nose up at TV re-runs that keep him laughing. He will watch “Kindergarten Cop” so many times the DVD is hot to the touch; my choice of repeats involves something British with clever and snarky quotes. I don’t like Walmart (not just for their questionable labor practices, but also because the store is so bland). When we were married, Tim was shocked by my need for new clothes or shoes. He wears things until they fall apart. A handsome guy, he is unconcerned about impressing others with his looks and clothes.

My husband has always reminded me of Nathaniel, who is mentioned in the Gospel of John (John 1:43-50). When Jesus sees Nathaniel, He exclaims, “Here is a true Israelite, in whom there is nothing false,” and he then tells Nathaniel something about him that only a prophet could know. The young man immediately declares his belief in Jesus, that he knows He must be the Son of God and the King of Israel.

When my husband became a believer in Jesus, like Nathaniel he gave his life fully and openly, even though there was a cost to that belief. Tim has no falsehood about him, in him and around him. He loves deeply, truly and faithfully. He loves God first, then family, then those he is called to serve as pastor, shepherd and friend. He can apply quotes from Dickens, The Stones and Davy Crockett films aptly to our family life. He explains the Bible, yet appreciates some South Park (thanks to our son). He is our resident Dr. Doolittle and will lay on the floor and ask our cat or rabbit about their day. Our daughters know to “ask Dad” if they want a special treat from Wegmans or pizza for dinner. He will run right out and get it for them. He is also very funny, which not a lot of people know, because unlike his spouse, he doesn’t enjoy the stage (which is interesting, given that every Sunday the pastor is thrust into the pulpit).

Recently, our fifteen year-old was comparing us to people she called “narcissists” and she said, “You know how humble you and Dad are....Well, Dad is humble. You are...less humble.” I laughed. Yeah, it’s true. But, I’m glad she knows her father’s character, one who does not think more highly of himself than he ought (Romans 12:3). Or, when he struggles with pride, the temptation to be arrogant, or self-righteous, as we all do, he is like Nathaniel, who knows the God he serves and turns to him for strength, forgiveness and grace.

And Tim offers those things to me. Being “less humble,” I need a lot of forgiveness and grace and patience. I am grateful that my life-partner is who he is--my best friend, encourager, tea-maker and my own personal Philistine to continue civilizing. Every girl should have one.

I Want A Clerical Collar

I am probably a little too candid for my own good.  It’s just how I am.  The other day I wrote a blog on Sounds of Hope.  It was hardly hope filled.  Yet, I think sometimes hope is best expressed in reality.  The Psalms are like that.  Many deep laments are expressed in their poetic words.  Yet, they often end with praise to God, a prayer for deliverance, and an offering of hope. 

A long time ago a person prayed over me and gave me these words:  “Deep calls to deep” (Psalm 42:7).  The Message translates this phrase, “chaos calls to chaos.”  I suggest you read the whole Psalm as well as the Psalm 43; the two Psalm were intended to be one.  You can find it in The Message here. 

When someone gives me a phrase or a verse like that, I usually take it seriously.  I’ve read this verse and the verses around it dozens and dozens of times.  I’ve never quite understood what it meant.  Oh I understand intellectually, but I have never understood how it applied to me.  I’ve shed plenty of tears.  I’ve had my name destroyed.  I’ve had all manner of chaos in my life.  I’ve certainly had life’s waves and breakers crash over me.  Was God just saying your life is going to be rough and hard?  Was He just reminding me of the truth of my life?

David suggested we write about practical ministry.  I started to write about pastoral ministry.  I think of pastoral ministry as very practical.  It’s the man or woman who will visit the hospital, will sit all night with the dying, will make sure you have food on the table, and that your spiritual appetite is fed as well.  It’s a difficult calling.  It’s often a thankless calling.

Every time I fill out one of those spiritual gifts inventories, I’m told I’m “pastoral.”  I have friends who try to encourage me and tell me I’m pastoral.  Depending on the person, sometimes I just smile.  Other times I give them my true feelings and tell them how discouraged I am.

Lately I’ve been thinking about pastors.  I’ve been wondering where they are?  There is not a week that goes by that someone doesn’t seek me out for counsel or prayer.  They seem to come from all sorts of places.  I’ve wondered at times, don’t they have a pastor?  I love it when people come to me.  After all, that is my gifting.  But I do wonder. 

Yesterday I was pastoral.  The day started with a call from the clerk at the hotel we would stay at in Columbia Missouri.  Often she would check us in.  Occasionally we’d chat.  I learned a bit of her story.  I gave her my card.  She called me.  Said she had been touched by me and wanted to see how I was.  I thought huh?  Then I got a call from the hospital, a friend needed transportation from the hospital after surgery.  I delighted in serving her and taking her home.  I spent time yesterday praying for these two women along with the friends who I love who are in deep need.

I may not have a title or a paycheck.  I want one.  I know that doesn’t sound very spiritual but it’s honest.  I don’t know how to be anything else but honest.  Nevertheless, I think I’m realizing that ministry doesn’t need a title or a paycheck.  As I look at a fellow seminary student sporting her new clerical collar, I am envious.  But today I’m laying that down and determining to Pastor the flock God gives me.

You may ask, what does that have to do with Deep Calls To Deep?  It has a lot to do with it.  As I share my chaos, my questions, my life, my reality, my vulnerability, my pain, the deepness of it calls out to those hurting.  They hear the familiar sound of their own pain.  Their heart says she’ll understand.  Then together we can learn to jump in the waves of life rather than being swallowed.  I may not have a collar, but I have a flock.   If you need a Pastor, I'm here.    

Who's looking out for the one who looks out for you?

I read a number of good blogs each week including the posts of my fellow Kingdom Bloggers. Reading what others are thinking and sharing how I personally feel about a subject matter is the lure to the blogosphere for me...and I'm sure that's the consensus among my peers. The relationship dynamic usually works best when that's a give-take relationship between blogger and reader. There are a number of Tony C Today and Kingdom Blogger followers who only visit to read and rarely, if ever, leave a comment. Most of these folks don't really care about writing their own blog either...and I'm perfectly okay with that and genuinely appreciate their interest in the thoughts of a very small voice in a sea of screamers.

There is another blogging relationship that doesn't work so well though, and that's the blogger who throws out a thought and refuses to even remotely acknowledge there might be an opposing opinion by a reader. I've visited a few of these blogs and they're far too Limbaugh-ish for me...seldom do I visit more than once. But that's not what I really want to talk about today...

This week, I came across a post by a guest blogger on Shooting the Breeze that has really stuck with me. Ryan Tate from Doorframes of TaterHouse wrote the insightful piece about the need to protect your pastor and used Paul's letter to the church in Thessalonica as the basis (1 Thess. 5:12-13). Ryan made several great points, among them the need to protect our pastors from burnout. I've thought about this many times before when it comes to my own pastor. Like most overseeing a flock, he is pulled in a number of directions each and every day. He's expected to visit the sick, counsel the troubled, represent the church at community events and make a presence at every church function throughout the week while maintaining 'normal' office hours. He's often overlooked as the church flourishes, but the first one blamed when attendance is down or the budget is pinched. Did I mention he has his own family?

My pastor is also my good friend, and that causes problems too. The church I attend is modest in size at around 350, but one of the larger churches in the small town where it is located. Inevitably, friendships for a pastor cause friction and animosity in the congregation. He shows him or her favoritism or they're in his click. What I have noticed, however, is that the pastor is usually closest to the people who are at the church most often...which makes sense. I have a hard time finding validity in the argument of clicks and favoritism from the person who attends church every other Sunday morning and is rarely, if ever, involved in ministry work by the church...but that's just me. You'd never hear that language come from my pastor.

I busted my pastor out a little this week on my personal blog about being forward thinking...but still living in the Reagan Administration. I truly meant no disrespect, and I'm sure he knows it was all in fun. We have that type of relationship. I love my pastor and his family dearly and would do anything for them in a time of need...but the fact of the matter is...I would just be returning the favor.

Call or visit your pastor one day in the coming week (and not Sunday) and pray with and for him/her. Chances are...you're just returning the favor too.