The Lost Local Church

by Bob Setzer, Jr.
Recently, two articles got me thinking about the future of pastoring, at least as I have known and loved the vocation.

The first article reported that less than one-third of students now attending seminary plan on serving in local congregations. That’s not less than one-third plan on being pastors; that’s less than one-third plan on working in a local church in any capacity.

The second article was by an author new to me, but so far, I like her spunk. Her name is Karen Zacharias and she has a new book out with the eyebrow-raising title, Will Jesus Buy Me a Doublewide? ('Cause I Need More Room for My Plasma TV). The book is a funny but deadly serious critique of the so-called “prosperity Gospel,” the notion God wants to make you rich (unlike Jesus), not from any hard work or savvy on your part, but solely as a reward for your prayer, devotion, and generous donations sent to Brother-So-and-So’s P.O. Box.

Ms. Zacharias’ article about the current state of pastoring is entitled, “Need Your Pastor? Follow Him on Twitter” (@ ethicsdaily.com). The article is a nostalgic look at her beloved childhood pastor, Brother Smitty. Here was someone who knew your name, knew your Mama, and cared about the state of your soul. Ms. Zacharias contrasts this vanishing breed of pastor with the celebrity-obsessed, success-driven pretenders who are too busy and self-absorbed to visit hospitals, officiate at funerals, or do other “pastoral” work. Such congregational “rock stars” (her word) leave the grunt work of ministry to subordinates.

Most pastors I know, of whatever variety, do not deserve the skewering Ms. Zacharias so artfully gives them. But I do believe the day when pastors were first and foremost, shepherds of God’s flock, are on the wane. There is just too much pressure to be bigger (rather than better), more popular (rather than more prophetic), and more trendy (rather than timeless). Even the best-intentioned pastors can end up as CEOs of slick, ecclesiastical corporations instead of honoring the heart of their vocation. “Pastor” is from the Latin word for Shepherd, after all.

Perhaps a congregation too large for the pastor to know everyone’s name is simply too large. Such a belief dates me and consigns me to irrelevancy in an age when the megachurch is the gold standard of ministerial success. But when Jesus commissioned the first pastor, Peter, he didn’t say, “Run my operations” or “Increase my profits.” He said “Feed my lambs, tend my sheep” (John 21:15-19). In a world that seems intent on making everything else more important, I try to remember that.

I hope the one-third of seminary graduates open to local church ministry will learn what I have discovered: the real rewards of ministry are rarely found “on stage” but in the lush pastures and dark valleys where the footprints of the Good Shepherd go before us in loving, often anonymous, service.

READ MORE

The Devil Never had a Chance

by Bob Setzer, Jr.
My calendar disappeared. It’s not like I lost it or anything. It was “there,” then it was gone. Poof! Vanished without a trace.

The Bible says “The Devil goes about like a roaring lion looking for whom he may devour” (1 Peter 5:8). The way I figure it, the Devil took a swipe at me. He opened his vicious, ugly mouth as wide as it would go and then sent his choppers crashing down. Thankfully, all he got was a mouthful of calendar. I slipped away unscathed.

Nonetheless, this mishap has greatly inconvenienced me and proven thoroughly unnerving. After all, who am I without my calendar? All those commitments neatly etched in the rows of boxes in April, May, June, and so on, give me identity and direction. Without them, my selfhood seems fuzzy, like an out of focus photograph.

John Locke, the Enlightenment thinker, said we all come into the world as a tabula rasa, a “blank slate.” But pretty soon our parents and siblings and culture are scribbling all over us, telling us who we are, what is good, what is bad, what boys do and what girls do and why Democrats or Republicans are to be regarded with suspicion. Eventually, we take up our own pen or keyboard and start trying to write our own script. But as my calendar caper, or unemployment, or divorce, or other such unsettling experiences soon reveal, it’s hard to remember who you are when the things that once defined you are snatched away.

Of course, the Bible says we are more than a tabula rasa. We are persons created in the “image of God” (Genesis 1:27), meaning there is within us a faint memory and haunting sense of who we are meant to be, namely, sons and daughters of God (John 1:12). But in the “real world,” we don’t take much time to ponder the depths of the self. We’re too busy trying to make the next appointment, or the next sale, or the next whatever. But then something happens to wipe the slate clean, and it’s just us and God again. Now what?

Now is the opportunity to start fresh, to start new, to make decisions about who we want to be instead of living on autopilot. This is hard, scary work, but exhilarating too. “Work out your salvation with fear and trembling,” Paul counseled the Philippians (2:12). There’s a lot riding on what you do with your days because what you do with your days becomes your life.

So yes, I’m trying to recreate my calendar which is to say I am trying to recreate myself. For a while at least, there will be more blank spaces and more breathing room. This is a gift of grace the Devil never saw coming. Thankfully, he never does. “For God is at work in you, enabling you both to will and to work for God’s good pleasure!” (Philippians 2:13).

The Devil never had a chance.

READ MORE

Smart People

by Bob Setzer, Jr.
One of the great benefits of being pastor at First Baptist is all the smart people who give me the benefit of their learning, insight, and life experience. On most any theological, moral, or political issue, there are any number of people in our church who know a lot more about the subject at hand than I do (I realize a lot of you don’t find that the least bit surprising!).

Getting to talk to sharp, conscientious people with widely varying views about a given issue is a gift. It broadens my understanding and awakens me to the complexities that attend most matters about which good people disagree.

I hope and believe others in our fellowship find such diversity a blessing, as well as a challenge. For if we are to be Jesus’ people, we must not mimic our culture and only hobnob with others like ourselves. Jesus had an annoying knack for seeking out and welcoming the most unsavory, controversial, counter-cultural folks in the neighborhood: ladies of the evening, IRS men, Samaritans, poor folks, and the like. And every time Jesus put his arms around someone the locals were bred to despise, he turned to his disciples and said, “Now go and do likewise.”

Recently, one of the many “smart people” in our congregation put me on to a book entitled, Going to Extremes, in which legal scholar, Cass Sunstein, analyzes the rise of extreme partisanship in America. Sunstein offers a wealth of evidence to suggest when like-minded people talk only to one another, they become hardened in their views. Liberals who gather to discuss affirmative action become far more aggressive in their demands while conservatives who discuss the same subject with one another become far more skeptical. If Sunstein is right, then one reason people seem to be gravitating toward extremism of both the right and left is that our cable network/internet world allows them to listen to folks only like themselves.

This Sunday night, we will begin the first of three conversations on difficult moral questions (see cover article): capital punishment, homosexuality, and war and peace. The safer course would be to avoid such controversial issues, or only talk about them in predictable, “like-minded” forums. But what if the church is the last place in America where thoughtful, passionate people of differing convictions can have meaningful dialogue? What if one mark of a disciple of Jesus is someone not afraid to open his, her ears and heart to people whose politics he or she finds objectionable?

Ed Friedman, another of the “smart people” who taught me a lot, said the definition of a true liberal is someone who can have a meaningful relationship with a conservative. I believe that more and more even as I see it lived out less and less. Maybe Jesus can help me, help us keep alive the dream of loving and listening to people very different from ourselves.

READ MORE

Depending on God

by Bob Setzer, Jr.
After listening to yet another thoroughly forgettable audio book, I decided to revisit the classics. Since I remembered being captivated by Robinson Crusoe as a boy, I decided to start my romp through great literature with that selection.

What surprised me this time through is how prominently the Bible is featured in Daniel Defoe’s fictionalized account of a castaway on a Caribbean island. Early on during his stay on “Despair Island,” Crusoe is a hardened cynic, angry with himself and the world. While resourceful and determined, Crusoe is isolated and alone in a far deeper sense than mere solitude can account for.

But then while rummaging through a chest, salvaged from the beached wreck of his ship, Crusoe comes upon a Bible. The very first words he stumbles upon are these: “Call on me in the day of trouble, and I will deliver, and thou shalt glorify me” (Psalm 50:15). Later, reflecting on the experience, Crusoe muses, “The words were very apt to my case, and made some impression upon my thoughts at the time . . . though not so much as they did afterwards.”

Now this is the sort of thing that every trained student of the Bible knows should not happen, or if it does happens, should not be taken seriously. After all, the Bible is not a collection of folk wisdom, to be plundered at will, like a desk calendar complete with a quote-for-the-day. The Bible is a library of sixty-six books written in widely diverse places and times. Only by placing a given text in its proper biblical and historical context, is there any hope of interpreting it aright.

But despite the degrees on my wall that mean I should know better, the fact of the matter is that ever so often, God gives you one on the house. Even when one does something as seemingly silly as letting the Bible flop open, where it will, one is sometimes confronted by a pointed, personal Word from God (Isaiah 55:11). At least that has been my experience and to hear Robinson Crusoe tell it, it was his experience too.

Prompted by this seemingly random word from God, Crusoe begins reading the Bible from cover-to-cover (an even better plan!). And while reading the Bible does not magically deliver him (Crusoe has another 28 years to go on the island!), his reading does gradually transform him. No longer is he so hopeless and alone. Now he has an unseen companion, whispering to him through the pages of Holy Writ, giving Crusoe a new measure of contentment, resilience, and courage.

Having just finished listening to the New Testament as part of our church’s “Faith Comes by Hearing” emphasis, I have been reminded anew: it’s a lot easier to live on whatever island you find yourself, if day-by-day, you give God a chance to whisper “sweet everythings” in your ear.

READ MORE

Game Over

by Bob Setzer, Jr.
The other night, Bambi and I were channel hopping when we stumbled upon a gripping NCAA tournament game between Kansas State and Xavier. It was an epic match in which the lead kept passing back and forth. The basketball artistry, the oft-reversed flow of momentum, the earnestness etched on the young men’s faces--all of it made for an unforgettable contest.

Eventually, the game ended in a tie and went into overtime. By this point, I had gone to bed, but Bambi--our night owl--soldiered on. She stayed on the edge of her seat by the television, as everyone in the arena leaned forward with anticipation. The first overtime ended in a tie. Finally, the buzzer sounded at the end of double-overtime as the Kansas State Wildcats snatched the win from the anguished Musketeers.

Only later, did we discover that we were watching a rerun of the game! (Let’s just say once the Yellow Jackets got whipped by Ohio State, our NCAA tournament watching was mostly over.) Thus, the basketball game we watched on Monday night with such rapt attention was actually decided the Thursday before.

This Sunday, the church will sound her proclamation of Christ’s Easter triumph in words and music. We will gather to raise our confession, "He is risen!" and to sing our "Alleluias." With Christians throughout time and eternity, we will give thanks for the victory that changes everything.

Indeed, if the New Testament is to be believed, Christ’s victory over death is the Great Reversal. All that has gone so terribly wrong with the world--sin, evil, death--has been trounced by our Lord’s triumph over the grave. As 2 Timothy 2:9-10 sings, "(God’s) grace . . . has been revealed by the appearing of our Savior Christ Jesus, who abolished death and brought life and immortality to light through the gospel."

That’s a lot to claim, a lot to hope, a lot to count on, that Christ has "abolished death and brought life and immortality to light." But the great, glad cry of Easter is nothing less. Because "He is not here! He is risen!", the stranglehold of sin and death is broken.

To be sure, we remain creatures in process. Like the mythical centaur, half-man, half-beast, our new, resurrected self in Christ has not fully emerged from the person we used to be. And yes, those we have loved and lost, have passed beyond our sight and reach into God’s nearer Presence.

But the day is coming--by God’s great mercy and power, the day is coming--when at last faith will turn to sight and God will wipe all the tears from our eyes (Revelation 21:4).

Easter means we know how the game will end. And because of that, we can live with a Christlike courage and calm and good cheer that would not be possible apart from who Jesus was and what he did.

READ MORE