I rattled a few cages when I questioned those in non-parish settings who do not regularly preach and celebrate the sacraments, which is the primary function of Reformed pastors–not editing a magazine, not heading a non-profit, not pastoral counseling, valuable as those things are to the life of humankind and the church. But preaching, teaching, celebrating the sacraments, and pastoral care in a congregational setting are what build up the church, and empower it to witness to the kingdom of Christ. This is a classic — not just a Reformed — no-brainer since the church does not exist or thrive without book, water, and table.
A call to ministry is nourished in the soil of the church. There we learn that the vocation of all Christians is to serve the Lord in daily life — whether at home or in the law firm, as social worker, police officer, doctor or CEO, or some patched – together combination of hearthside and curbside activities to sustain self and family. Disciples of Jesus are expected to ask what God wants from them — not as customers, shoppers, consumers, or those to be entertained — but as persons called to reflect the glory of God.
Out of that context comes God’s call to Ministers of Word and Sacrament, with particular functions for evangelism outside and ministry within the community of faith. That call comes through the voice of those who know us, love us, and see in us gifts for service in the church. “I want to know,” writes Ted Wardlaw (see p. 9) “when the church is going to get seriously back in the business of lending its own voice to the calling of God.” We have been woefully negligent in identifying and encouraging young women and men to become Ministers of the Word.
Yet Jesus said, You have not chosen me, but I have chosen you, and appointed you to go and bear fruit. We have flipped Jesus’ words on their head in the last few decades. I rarely hear candidates tell of the human voice through which they heard the divine voice call them to ministry. Rather they speak of their own seeking and choosing. Yet I would never be where I am without the voices of people who asked me more than once if I had considered the ministry. And I could name a cloud of witnesses — in family and congregations — whose encouragement kept me faithful when the way was steep, the road hard, and the “jumping off place” only one step away and very attractive.
How do we recover the language of vocation? In a culture that worships choice and sacrifices human lives on the altar of my “right to chose,” how do we claim that we have been branded, marked, washed in the water of baptism, appointed — and given a destiny that is not ours to define, or to make up as we go along?
Do the “sacred pages” of Chapter 14 in the Form of Government help or hinder? Are ministers under such constraints that they are actually called upon to make sacrifices for the sake of the church and the gospel? When I was ordained we all were asked if we would be “zealous and faithful in maintaining the truths of the Gospel and the purity and peace of the Church, whatever persecution or opposition may arise unto you on that account?” Present ordination questions contain little hint that Ministry of the Word is a costly vocation, sometimes wreathed in suffering, but not without sufficient grace. Ministers of the Word who have never suffered, or have “experienced only the joys and none of the burdens of ministry” (as someone defined interim ministry) have probably done little to build up the body of Christ. That is not a good “advertisement” for ministry when we lend our voices to the call of God, who knew us before we were born.
“Quality leadership is neither the product of one great individual nor the result of odd historical accidents. Rather it comes from deeply bred traditions and communities that shape and mold talented and gifted persons.” (Cornel West in Race Matters) Jesus said, You did not choose me, but I chose you.
Yes, indeed.
