The Preacher’s Mites
“Maybe the RLP only gave two cents to his daughter; but maybe those were all he had to give. If so, I’m inclined and have reason to believe that God will treat his gift like the widow’s mites.”
Frequent RLP commenter Jason Pratt recently posted that response to a very pointed disagreement from another commenter. I like what Jason said about me; it warmed my heart.
In this case, the person who left the initial comment was very unhappy with the way I answered a question from my daughter as related in my recent essay, “The Truth About Snow.” He or she felt that I should have been able to give a more definitive answer, especially since I am a minister.
Yeah, I get a lot of that. The emails always have a similar message:
“How can you call yourself a minister when you…”
What usually follows that phrase is some reference to a shortcoming on my part, anything from my coarse language, to the way I interpret the bible, to the doubts I so openly express. I also seem to have the dreaded stink of liberal on me, though I simply think of myself as a person who reads the bible very seriously and with as much scholarship as possible. I don’t use the categories liberal or conservative when I think of myself.
If I listened to these email voices, it seems clear that I should step down from my post and find another vocation.
The funny thing is, no one asks the “How can you call yourself a minister?” question more than me. And never more than early on Sunday mornings while it is still dark outside.
I wonder if I SHOULD be more certain of myself if I am to be the shepherd of a flock. I wonder if a minister should be less depressed and introverted. I wonder if my wellspring of caring should be deeper. I wonder a lot of things in the darkness of early Sunday.
I do not know the answer to these questions. And with all due respect to my friends from outside the church who leave comments here, you are not able to answer these questions. The question of who should or should not be the pastor of a church is a question that only the Christian community may answer. I appreciate your kindness and affirmation, but I must ask these questions and these questions must be asked of me.
It is right and good that Christians should ask if a person is suited for ministry.
Here is what I do know. Many Sunday mornings I have a kind of sad feeling inside. It’s dark at the church, and I wonder if I have any business being the shepherd of this people. I have the feeling of wanting to procrastinate and not finish my last preparations. I fight through that feeling. I never let it get the best of me. Sometimes it’s almost like hearing voices. The voices do not tell me that I’m unworthy. I already know that.
The voices tell me that I’m not suited for this calling. And that is a possibility that I must consider.
But then 8:30 rolls around and Cynthia and Adrian arrive. Adrian teaches my youngest daughter’s Sunday school class. His is as pure a heart as I have known in this world. Adrian knows me and loves me. He has called me to be the pastor of his church.
Cynthia is a poet. She knows me intuitively, in deep and abiding ways. She knows me like she knows words. She knows my weaknesses and my foolishness. There’s no hiding from her. To know Cynthia is to be known by her. It's that poet thing. Cynthia loves me, and she has called me to be the pastor of her church.
Next to arrive might be Amy and Michael. They have been dear friends for years. They read Real Live Preacher. They know everything about me, more than is even written here. They love me. They have called me to be the pastor of their church.
Through the doors of the church come a steady stream of friends who know me and love me still. John and Lexie, Lyle and Cathy, Jenny, Ellen, Roy, Paula, Chloe, and others.
They know me. They understand that I am a man with faults, flaws, and limitations. They know my doubts for I am able to be honest with these friends.
They love me. They have called me to be the pastor of their church.
They are the body of Christ. Christians use that phrase when we speak of the community of believers struggling along in this world, trying to live the Christ life in His absence. We both are and are trying to be the body of Christ in this world.
I trust these people. I hear their voice and call. So I continue. Week after week, month after month, year after year, in good times and in hard times. I’m a miserable organizer, as they will testify. I am passionate and weak and strong in some crazy mixture. I am careful with scripture and honor it with my study. But these weak claims amount to nothing when compared to the power of their voice and call.
My calling is to trust their calling, for their voice is Christ's voice in this world.
If you define faith as certainty of belief, then mine is very weak. If you define faith as faithfulness, mine is strong and has stood the test of time. Somewhere in the middle is the truth, I think, which makes me both weak and strong.
Jason is right. I have only two mites to offer to God. They were God’s mites to begin with and I give them back gladly. By some miracle, there is a group of people in South Texas who receive my two mites in the name of God and treat them like a precious treasure.
Their voices are the ones I choose to hear
rlp
Luke 21:1-4
He looked up and saw rich people putting their gifts into the treasury; he also saw a poor widow put in two small copper coins. He said, "Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put in more than all of them; for all of them have contributed out of their abundance, but she out of her poverty has put in all she had to live on." (NRSV)
Note: The King James translation referred to these small coins as "mites." Christians still refer to them as mites when telling the story, though most modern translations do not.
10:25:16 AM 
|
