Advance apologies to the tall steeple ministers of Word and Sacrament. You’re not my vocational heroes. You’re not my role models. Many of you preach with a prophet’s passion and a poet’s touch. Many of you exercise your office with the highest professional deportment and with amazing programmatic innovation. Many of you are generating world outreach mission efforts, are feeding the hungry, and are winning unbelievers to the faith. But you’re not my heroes.
My heroes and role models are the pastors and, even more, the commissioned lay pastors (CLPs) serving small churches, a/k/a “wee kirks.”
In fact, though I have spoken at numerous conferences and attended many more, my favorites have been the Wee Kirk conferences. I especially enjoy meal times when my toss of a good leading question will give me time to munch on my food while a pastor or CLP tells me her story. Invariably, I come away from such conferences humbled to the point of tears.
Such conversations take me back to the time I accepted the call to ministry. I offered to live in poverty, to serve in any circumstance, and to do without the conveniences to which I’d already become addicted. I prayed as I sang, “I’ll go where you want me to go, dear Lord, … I’ll do what you want be to do, … I’ll be what you want me to be.” And I meant it.
Sure enough, for the half-dozen years of preparation for and launch of ministerial service, my young family and I lived below the poverty line. But soon I was called to a middle class, program-size Presbyterian church and later to a multi-staff congregation. I received generous compensation, and I appreciated it.
Not all Presbyterian churches overflow with resources. Some serve inner city immigrant neighborhoods. Some serve in small rural or rust belt towns. Some are recovering from a soured relationship with a pastor — and a depleted congregation now tries to rebuild.
That’s where the wee kirk pastors and commissioned lay pastors come in. In many cases, having negotiated terms of call that don’t meet the minimums normally required, they pour themselves into the task of shepherding. Some serve in tent-making roles, holding down “secular” jobs to supplement their income.
Not that these leaders are looking for sympathy. The upsides of small church ministry are many. Name memorization comes quickly. They celebrate the rapid changes in the baby baptized a few months ago. They cheer at Little League games and gymnastics competitions. They applaud the high school band concert, rooting for the flute soloist who comprises half their youth group. Many become a leader for the community, a spokesperson for the values that matter to many a villager.
No, sympathy is not needed, but respect IS. Too many smaller church pastors feel devalued by colleagues serving larger, program churches. Worse, the CLPs have to fight for status with the educationally superior M.Div. and D.Min. preachers. Like immigrant farm workers, whose willingness to accept sub-par wages gets criticized by well-paid, citizens, CLPs’ greatest challenge in ministry is to overcome the second-class status placed upon them by their academically accomplished colleagues.
True, Presbyterian and Reformed churches have long been known for the level of serious biblical and theological study that informs their pulpits. True, the Reformed tradition has long contributed a level of theological acuity that has shaped the convictions of the larger body of Christ. True, this tradition has been propagated and sustained by the well-trained pastors and teachers who have led the church. If we squander that tradition, the whole body of Christ will suffer loss.
Nevertheless, if a small percentage of our churches (less than 8% at last count) is served by folks lacking post-graduate degrees in theology, the whole tradition is not lost. Moreover, it just may not hurt to have a few of our churches served by pastoral leaders who offer more ardor than academic skill.
The ardor driving their ministry and the personal sacrifice sustaining it makes those folks heroes, role models for me to follow. Take a look at them to see if they ought not be heroes for you, too.
— JHH
