Accepting My Pastoral Fate

As is always the case following our “The Body of Christ and the Public Square” conference, I took some time to read the event evaluation forms submitted by the attendees. As in previous years, most took the time to fill one out, offering uplifting commendation and valuable information upon which to reflect. From the hundreds submitted, only three or four betrayed humanity’s jagged propensity to demand something beyond normal. In other words, every crowd always has a miserabilist or two. One shrew’s comment-pocked page threatened not to return if we didn’t upgrade the chairs to ones with cushioning. Another I received by email insisted that the event would be better if we offered a menu, perhaps expanding our food options to include pasta and possibly providing a more comprehensive array of desserts. I replied, “Thanks for the suggestions.” But that was after I typed and deleted, “That’s a great idea. And since we’ve decided to upgrade all our chairs to recliners, we thought we might hire some foot masseuses to go from attendee to attendee. There’s certainly nothing better than kicking back in a La-Z-Boy at an in-person conference with tier-one speakers while getting a foot massage and eating red velvet cake.”

Seth Dillon reminded the audience that foolishness needs to be ridiculed. Regardless of what some would say, foolishness needs pushback from equally foolish humor. He reminded his listeners that we often miss opportunities to redirect people away from untruth when we meet their folly with seriousness. By treating them seriously, we imply their ideology is worthy of consideration. If a man insists he is a woman, while mindfulness is necessary lest we underestimate the societal dangers, ridiculing the ideology is also an essential part of the resistance. Thus, Seth’s company, The Babylon Bee. The Babylon Bee is devoted to making fun of ideological idiocy—or, as Seth put it, he’s a professional troll.

We talked a little about this in the Sunday morning adult Bible study following the event. The story of Elijah and the Prophets of Baal came up. Elijah ridiculed the prophets, taunting them mercilessly. When you read his words in the biblical Hebrew, you know just how crass Elijah’s words were. Saint Paul does the same in Galatians 5:12, mocking the Judaizers who demand circumcision as a requirement of faith. When you can, look at what Paul says the Judaizers should do to themselves. It isn’t polite, but it is funny.

I told the Bible study group I intend to do more trolling. I’m certainly capable.

Regardless, I had something else on my mind when I sat down to tap on the keyboard this morning, most of which began forming last night during a dinner conversation with friends. There was another thread of commentary I discovered in several of the commending evaluation forms. Essentially, folks pleaded that I do more advertising in the churches, explaining that they only heard about the event from friends or shared social media posts.

Apart from my social media efforts, I sent direct mailings to 240 churches across three states. Less than twenty were returned as undeliverable. Each mailing had a brief letter of explanation and one (sometimes more) 11” x 17” color poster advertising the event’s particulars. Of the four-hundred-plus attendees, twelve were pastors from congregations that had either received those mailings or didn’t receive one only because they knew me personally and were promoting it on their own. Admittedly, I don’t know how many attendees were there due to those men.

The first thing I should say is that I know pastors are busy. I am one. If you knew my schedule, you’d think I own a teleportation device or I’ve somehow figured out how to clone myself. Just glancing at my schedule right now, I can assure you that every day is pretty much spoken for until Christmas Day. After Christmas, I have four days free before it all starts again. Anything added to the schedule until then is little more than fanciful dance moves employed to fill in its fast-fleeting cracks.

Second, I know that when it comes to anything sent to a congregation communicating events like ours, most folks in that congregation will only learn about it if their pastor chooses to share it. He’s the gatekeeper to such information, and rightly so. He’s deciding what goes on the bulletin board and what doesn’t. He’s deciding what gets shared in the announcements or newsletter and what doesn’t. Speaking for myself, such decisions often happen when I first get the information. If it’s a letter, I open the envelope, scan it, and either keep it or toss it into the trash. Then, I move on to the next item. If it’s an email, I read it. If I intend to pursue it, I tag and save it. If not, I delete it and move on.

More to my point. It’s not that I didn’t sufficiently advertise in the churches. It’s that the pastors withheld the information. Their reasons? I don’t know. At least, I should say I don’t know for sure. I have my suspicions.

If you watch the video of the panel discussion from our recent event, you’ll observe a question directed to the group that resulted in a near-unanimous expression of optimism. I said “near-unanimous” because I chose not to answer. Essentially, each panel member agreed that the tide is turning in America. People are waking up and pushing back against radicalized school boards, LGBTQ Inc.’s jackboot agenda, and countless other issues tearing at the fabric of this great nation. As the microphone was passed from panel member to panel member, you’ll notice James Lindsay leaning toward me to speak. He asked if I wanted to respond. I said no. Keep watching. You’ll see we spent those next few moments whispering to one another. I told him I agreed that things were looking better. People are sick and tired of leftists seizing control of and destroying everything. However, that’s not what I see among pastors in the Church. From my perspective, my circle continues to shrink. As a pastor intent on leading God’s people toward faithful engagement in the public square, I’m becoming more and more of an island unto myself. I’m going to shoot straight on why I think that is.

On the one hand, it could be because my reach is increasing. With that, I’m running into what has always been a more significant percentage of pastors holding an absolute separationist view of Church and State, which ultimately betrays a thin understanding of genuine American history and a weak grip on the Two Kingdoms doctrine. More will come on this when I finish my doctoral work.

I also get the sense there may be an inhibitive spirit of competition in the Church. In other words, promoting another congregation’s event, especially a prominent one, makes the pastor feel as though he could be doing more. Depending on what that pastor does all day, I won’t say if that feeling is right or wrong. I’ll just say I think it’s there. And it’s dangerous. Faithfulness is required, not achievement. But faithfulness is by no means lazy.

I most suspect pastors withhold the information because they are simply doing what people fearful of losing their jobs do. It could be as simple as knowing that if they hang a poster promoting an educational event that any one of their parishioners misinterprets as offensive, they might make enemies.

As a pastor, I know what happens when enemies are made in a congregation. People transfer to another congregation or self-dismiss. Attendance goes down. Giving goes down. And who gets blamed? I do. Please know that I’ve long since lost concern for these dynamics. In fact, after unsuccessful attempts at reconciliation, I’ve taken the lead on showing particular folks the door. In short, I know I’ll always teeter at the edge of offending people when it comes to preaching and teaching the Word of Truth, maintaining church discipline, defending the congregation’s identity, and preserving her integrity. Of course, I’m not trying to offend anyone. I don’t associate with any pastors who are trying. But it does happen. I’ve accepted that fate, and as a result, the Lord continues to bless these efforts in ways I only wish I had time to describe.

Many pastors haven’t accepted that fate. And the fear is crippling. It keeps them holding to far easier things while preventing them from helping their people navigate the harder things—the all-consuming dreadfulnesses destroying human lives, both physically and spiritually. Doing this, those pastors become caricatures of Hosea’s divine accusation: “For with you is my contention, O priest…. My people are destroyed for lack of knowledge; because you have rejected knowledge, I reject you from being a priest to me” (4:4,6).

I told Dr. Lindsay later that night while sharing samples from my various whiskeys that I’ve long since begun weaponizing this pastoral fear. Knowing that pastors are terrified of their people, I’ve turned to reaching their people. If the pastors are afraid, I’ll use that fear, not in a sinister way, but in an encouraging one. In other words, I urge the people visiting from other congregations to encourage their pastors to get in the game and lead the way. I plead with them to do this, first doing what they can to create opportunities for their pastors to use the skills they already possess. For example, folks could call the local paper and ask about sharing a portion of their pastor’s latest sermon as an editorial. When the paper’s editor agrees, ask the pastor to send it. Put the pastor right out in front of an issue. Another example might be for church members to invite their pastor to speak at a community event, such as a Right to Life rally, School Board meeting, or an education forum. Perhaps a parishioner might arrange for his pastor to be the invocator before a congressional session in the state capitol building.

It’s not exactly the same, but this reminds me of my whisky epiphany in the early 2000s. It took a deliberate introduction to a few fine whiskies during an out-of-the-ordinary visit to London, England, to realize I had strange facilities for sensing things in drams that others could not. Like most anything else, once a pastor realizes he has additional skills he never even considered relevant to his typical duties, it’s like a light switch being flipped on. Of course, most of his efforts occur in the Kingdom of the Right—the Gospel’s kingdom. Still, when he discovers that some of those same efforts meet with the Kingdom of the Left—the civil domain—he goes about his work with a broader awareness and a more profound capability for his vocation. Together, these only add to his service, and they do so in ways that serve the Gospel rather than detract from it.

I’ll keep working in this way. It continues to result in more and more Christians stepping up to push back. Perhaps along the way, more pastors will have no choice but to join their people—and maybe even lead them. We certainly need what they’ve been put in place to bring.

A Commendation

A Commendation to God’s People at Our Savior in Hartland

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I must confess that our “The Body of Christ and the Public Square” conference (which we just enjoyed yesterday) is both a highlight and a burden for our lives each year. It’s a burden because much work is necessary for its success. We plan all year for a single day’s labor. Precious time and resources are given. Sweat is spent. In short, it does not happen unless we fully put our backs into it. For me, its burdens include occasional verbal beatings from friends and foes alike. To be clear, I’m not complaining. This is one of the price tags attached to the chances I take. Thomas Jefferson said something about how anyone who assumes a public role must inevitably consider himself public property. I get it. Anyone putting himself out for public consumption should expect to be chewed on from time to time. I certainly get my fair share.

Pondering the highlights, I assure you that our conference efforts always prove themselves well worth the exertion. Over the last ten years, spanning twenty educational events, big and small, this congregation’s determination to communicate a right understanding of Church and State engagement has been unquestionably fruitful across countless denominational boundaries. Without being too bold, I dare say the handful of Christians who call Our Savior in Hartland, Michigan, their church home has influenced local and national landscapes in ways few other churches of a much larger size can claim. This isn’t boasting. It is a fact. God has used these efforts to effect significant change while holding the line on what’s good.

Along those same lines, I suppose it isn’t far from some who volunteer at the event to thank God for the unique opportunities to work alongside guest speakers most folks only know from a distance. For example, my son and future daughter-in-law shepherded Riley Gaines through her time with us, ensuring she made it to and from the event. I can understand the excitement of being near one of history’s boldest. Even better, something must be said for building genuine relationships with national policy architects and influential newsmakers. After the conference, I spent a few hours at my basement bar with Dr. James Lindsay. We chatted about anything and everything—politics, philosophy, theology, you name it. It was indeed an exceptional time, feeling more like minutes than hours. We parted company as new and better friends, intent on reconnecting whenever we might find ourselves within one another’s vicinity.

Of course, as starstruck as anyone might be with these folks, we don’t idolize them. If there’s anything I’ve learned from these relationships, they are people like the rest of us. Nevertheless, I also know that to live according to the tenets of faith (1 Timothy 2:2-6), ultimately protecting the Church’s freedom to preach and teach the Gospel apart from the shadows, these people are part of the calculus in twenty-first-century America. They’re included in Saint Paul’s phrase “πάντων τῶν ἐν ὑπεροχῇ”—all who are in high positions (1 Timothy 2:2). To influence them is to influence the public square and, as a result, to have a role in steering the outcome of the game. To what end? Again, to the preservation of what Saint Paul continues to describe in verses 2 through 4: “that we may lead a peaceful and quiet life, godly and dignified in every way. This is good, and it is pleasing in the sight of God our Savior, who desires all people to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth.”

We’ve been blessed with those relationships as an organization, so we form, maintain, and enjoy them accordingly.

As the pastor at Our Savior, I’m glad for God’s people here. Seeing your vigor in all of this certainly makes me smile. Moreover, your joy in the task is one of the reasons I’ll likely continue to take the punches. Your joy brings me joy. Truly. You’re forever proving their commitment to Christ. For one, you’re miles beyond mere words. You’re not willing to simply rah-rah from the bench, saying to those who need help, “Be warm and well fed” (James 2:16-17). You’re in the game, and you’re playing hard. With or without accolades, you’re moving the ball down the field in ways that serve even your detractors and will resonate for generations.

Unfortunately, as I’ve already hinted, we often do this to our peril. I’ll give you an example.

I had a conversation yesterday with someone who, no matter how gently she explains religious liberty’s benefits to her liberal family members, is viciously attacked as a mean-spirited and bigoted conservative who wants to force her opinions on others. I did what I could to encourage her. Apart from sharing God’s Word relative to the matter, at one point, I shared a thought Ralph Waldo Emerson once penned. He wrote about how there will always be a certain meanness to conservatism. Unfortunately for conservatism’s opponents, the meanness always comes bearing superior logic and facts. In other words, it brings truth. Relative to her conversations with family members, confining someone with anything will always seem restrictive, inhibiting, and mean. Still, as mean as truth’s confinement might seem, it’s good.

What’s more, the only people we should trust are the ones calling to us from within truth’s boundaries. Those people are not trying to keep us from living; they’re beckoning us to a life endowed with the greatest access to truth’s arsenal of facts—to what makes truth true. As biblically conservative Christians, we have this in spades.

Quite simply, truth—whether it be moral or natural law—is unphased by opinion; or, as I heard first-hand from Ben Shapiro long before it ever became a bumper sticker, facts don’t care about your feelings.

This congregation gets it. You know it isn’t an easy road. Still, it’s a road you want to travel because you know the One who is Truth in the flesh—Jesus Christ. He is the way of eternal life. Those who cling to Him have been set free from Sin’s foolish desires to trust anyone or anything beyond truth’s borders. You want others to know this, so you do what you can to preserve the Church’s freedom to preach and teach it. Our conference is one way you do this.

By the way, we’re already taking aim at next year’s effort. As was mentioned yesterday at the conference’s end, it looks as though Tucker Carlson will be with us in October of 2024. And Jim Caviezel is in tow for an after-Easter event of some sort. I haven’t sorted the details yet, but rest assured that I will.