My first call as an ordained pastor was to a parish of 800
members that was made up of three individual congregations that worked
together. Two pastors served the congregations. (The Senior Pastor had been
called to the parish just a month before I was interviewed. I was to be the
Associate Pastor.) There were two churches in town, just six blocks apart from
each other. The third congregation was located about seven miles from town and was surrounded by dairy farms. Each
congregation had their own budget and leadership councils. There was also a
parish budget that each congregation contributed towards based on their
membership as well as a parish council that had representatives from each
church.
In the Lutheran church each congregation issues a call to a
qualified pastor. This is done after a series of interviews. During the on-site
interview I was given a tour of the town, was walked through the parsonage
(church owned house) that would be our home, and was shown each of the three
church buildings. The first church was the largest of the three and hosted the
parish offices for the two pastors and the part-time secretaries. The second
church I visited was the country congregation and the third that we visited was
the church that owned the parsonage in which we would live.
At the country church I noticed a large portrait of a man and
a woman in the fellowship hall. By their attire the portrait looked to be about
twenty years old and I assumed that it was someone who had donated something
significant to the congregation. At the third church we visited I noticed the
same portrait hanging in an overflow area where it could be seen by all those
who were in worship. But this time I wasn’t left to guess who it might be.
The 72 year-old man who was showing us around walked me right
over to the portrait and said, “This is Pastor Urberg and his wife. He and his
father served as pastors to this church and several others for 80 years. The
parsonage was built the year he was born and he lived in it all his life except
when he went to college and seminary. He was the mayor in town and the street
outside is named after him. He died while still serving as pastor, just like
his father, and his widow still attends church here. The last pastor we had
didn’t think this picture should be hanging here. What do you think?”
At the time I knew that I was being tested. It was obvious.
And I was aware that the test wasn’t about the former pastor or their loyalty
to him. It was about whether I would accept them the way they were or if I
would force them to become something else. I don’t recall my exact words but in
my answer I tried to honor the tradition and the path that particular
congregation had travelled.
What I didn’t realize then was that this episode would introduce
two themes that I have struggled with throughout my ordained ministry. First is
the theme of tradition and legacy. As a pastor, I stand on the foundation of
more than 4000 years of recorded thought, debate and reflection on the meaning and
purpose of life. This accumulation has been passed on to me through ritualized
tradition and theological education. The problem is that the rituals and the
way of thinking about the essential Truth that is contained in the tradition are
not as timeless as the Truth itself. New rituals and new ways of thinking about
and expressing the Truth are needed in order for what is True to be passed on.
The second theme highlighted by this episode is my struggle with
what it means to be a pastor. Pastors are servant leaders, which means a
congregation has to take ownership for its own ministry. The congregation has
to determine what its purpose is and how it will function in the wider world.
Unfortunately, most congregations are willing to let the pastor decide.
Charismatic personalities can grow large churches because they are able to
convince people to follow their “vision.” But there is danger in letting one
person, no matter how well-intentioned they are, define the identity and purpose
of a whole community.
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