I’ve been gifted sabbatical time during 2019. For those unfamiliar with that term, it means that for three months I have the opportunity to be away from work, on leave so to speak, and continue to be paid my salary. Sabbatical is something familiar to those in academic settings where colleges or universities offer six month or year long sabbatical time to professors that are completing research projects, writing books, or pursuing other academic endeavors that need more attention than can be given while carrying a full teaching load.
For clergy, this is a relatively new practice. Sabbatical has become more normative in compensation packages for clergy and within congregational or institutional policies over the last twenty-five years. Ministry is a vocation, profession, and a lifestyle one willfully accepts, or not, through the experience of call. Most congregations want the clergy person to renew their spiritual batteries, so to speak, for the tasks of ministry and the lifestyle that can become overwhelming, isolating, and heartbreaking as much as life-giving or hopeful or meaningful. I like to say it is a time for the minister to rediscover the “why” of her or his call to the vocation of ministry. There is a desire for the clergy person to participate in continuing education that will benefit both, the clergy and her or his congregation or institution, when sabbatical ends. Sabbatical is a time to completely disengage from the routines, relationships, and responsibilities.
I will not be ‘on sabbatical’ in the traditional way. Rather than be away from three full months in a row, I have designed three time periods where I will disengage from my ministry responsibilities. This is not the way to do it, but how I am doing it. My first bit of time is most of January 2019. I have a couple of projects I want to complete and overall I’ll be working on a couple of thought projects. I’m not sure what the outcome of these though projects will be, but these two thoughts have nagged at me for quite some time. They are specific to my brand of Christian witness, but can be applied broadly with a change in terms. These thoughts need space and conversation partners. And, these thought projects represent my baggage with what has become of public Christianity. Yes, I’ll be posting more actively during sabbatical time.
Generic Christian
The pace of social, economic, and technological change cannot be overstated as mainline Christianity continues to struggle against an undertow of “when everything matters nothing matters most.” I think this struggle is connected with “generic Christian evangelicalism and generic Christianity” that has, in many Disciples of Christ congregations, transformed our unique liberal frontier movement into a season of Survivor; and, it is also affecting Regions and General Units. What kind of lifeline, or two, can a Region or covenantal Christian community create to help clergy and congregations better identify what matters most in their context and in the covenantal relationships that guide being the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ)? What is the best way to throw a lifeline? What is the best way to throw a lifeline to Disciples of Christ clergy or congregations that do not recognize the undertow or don’t think they are being pulled out to the sea of generic Christianity?
Orthodoxy v Orthopraxy
I would argue that Moralistic Therapeutic Deism(1) is one byproduct of generic Christianity that is centered in what I call “me and my Jesus” youth ministry. Depeche Mode’s “Personal Jesus” offers the best glimpse of this kind of youth ministry, and Christian ministry in general, that is practiced throughout Christendom today. Christian education, from a Disciples of Christ perspective, must become vital again in our denomination through an investment of dollars, time, and human resources, if the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) seeks to remain an effective, alternative Christian witness to what passes as generic Christianity in the 21st century. Ethical deism must become a focus for a generation rather than “me and my Jesus” Christianity. Said another way, living and loving like Jesus must be more important than believing in the Christ of faith for salvation professed by creedal Christianity or generic Christian evangelicalism. If MTD is the best we can do in this century, then how does the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) teach the outcomes of being a “Micah 6:8 or Greatest Commandment or Golden Rule” people as the primary way of living as a follower of Jesus? Or is it that the faithful know what Jesus of Nazareth asks of his followers and we, myself included, are just not up to that challenge or that kind of kindom ministry anymore?
Note
(1) A term created by Christian Smith and Melinda Lundquist Denton as a summation for their research in Soul Searching: The Religious and Spiritual Lives of American Teenagers (Oxford University Press, Inc. 2005). MTD has these five characteristics: 1) A God exists that created and orders the world and watches over human life on earth. 2) God wants people to be good, nice, and fair to each other, as taught in the Bible and by most world religions. 3) The central goal of life is to be happy and to feel good about oneself. 4) God does not need to be particularly involved in one’s life except when he [sic] is needed to resolve a problem. 5) Good people go to heaven when they die.
I’m sitting in “The Dean’s Course,” shorthand for “The Minister’s Vocation” course at Brite Divinity School. Rev. Dr. M. Jack Suggs and Rev. Dr. Kenneth Teegarden are the professors. The lecture was something about developing a schedule or routine or pattern for the tasks that a minister performs during a week and taking time for your spiritual life. A student raises a hand. “Dean Suggs, it feels like funerals, especially for children or youth, are the hardest thing to do as a minister. Is there anything harder?” The Dean paused a moment, not more than thirty-seconds, and responded.
I heard this story that might help you with that question.
While shaking hands after worship on Sunday, a couple in the congregation paused mid-shake and asked the minister if they could come see him on Monday morning. “Sure, how about ten o’clock?” he responded. They nodded and went on their way.
On Monday morning the couple arrived five minutes early and chatted up the church secretary while the minister finished a call. “Hi, come on in. Sorry to keep you waiting,” echoed from the minister’s office. The couple entered to handshakes and questions about their Sunday afternoon activities. The husband asked if he could shut the door of the minister’s office. He did. Moving back to his chair to sit next to his wife he began: “Preacher, we’ve been members here a long time. Our grandparents helped start this church. You know we’ve done every job, from volunteer in the nursery to chair the board, twice. You’ve been here a long time and know us and this congregation. We like you and your preaching, but cannot understand why you’ve welcomed the colored family that has visited the church. They’ve got their own places for worship, and we think they should go there. We don’t want to cause trouble for you or this church, but we cannot continue to be members here, if you are going to welcome negroes into the church and membership. We want you to stay at this church, but cannot accept these people here. So, we wanted to talk to you first, before talking to our Sunday school class and the elders to see what you were going to do about it.”
The minister moved forward in his chair and thought for a moment. He removed his glasses, cleaned them, and when he returned them to his face, responded. “Steve and Phyllis, thank you for coming to see me this morning. I’m glad you trust me with this information and your concern. I’ve been the minister here eleven years. We’ve known each other all that time. Remember when I baptized your grandchild? That was a good day for all of us. I remember praying with Phyllis and you, when she was in the hospital fighting cancer. And, when you told me we needed to open a clothing closet to help the less fortunate, we convinced a couple of elders to put up the seed money that the board matched. That really helps a lot of people in this town of all colors.
So, this morning I must apologize to you. I’ve failed you. All these years I thought I was doing a faithful job of teaching and preaching the Gospel. Apparently, I’ve done a poor job, or you’ve not been listening. God’s love extends to everyone. Confessing faith in Christ and discipleship doesn’t depend on your color, and I know you know that. And, I know you know that the church doesn’t belong to me, or you, or anyone specific. Steve, I’ve heard you say that to the elders, when that family from the trailer park started worshiping here and some of the members were unhappy. Though poorer than many in this church, they were welcomed.
I understand that this is an important issue for you, and I want you to know that I will miss you if you choose to leave. If you choose to stir up trouble for the church over this, well I can’t stop you from doing that. I guess we will see if others have been listening to my teaching and preaching all these years. I will always pray for you and Phyllis. I want you to stay at this church we share. I think there is important ministry we can do together for our community, but it is important for you to know that the church, our church, welcomes everyone that comes through the doors seeking God and Jesus, no matter their color, because that is what Jesus calls us to do. I don’t know why this new family visited us, but after worship yesterday, they asked me to stop by their home for coffee this evening. I’m going there to extend Christian fellowship on behalf of our church and on behalf of God. Would you like to come with me?
Dean Suggs took a sip of his coffee. “Are there other questions before we move on?”
As far back as I can remember, October has been the month that my denomination, the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), has encouraged local congregations to say “thank you” in some formal way to their minister. What is now referred to as “Pastor Appreciation” began as “Minister Appreciation.” This is how I knew it, and experienced it, growing up, throughout my preparation for ordained ministry, and during my first decade of Christian ministry. It was normative until some point in the recent past, when the language changed. I’m not sure when it changed or how, but many clergy, ordained into Christian ministry or commissioned (formerly licensed) for Christian ministry in a specific place, have taken to referring to themselves as “pastor” rather than “minister.” Though not as dramatic as Luther’s ninety-five objections, this language change has had a significant effect on ministerial identity in congregational life, in culture, and for the minister. The intention, it seems to me, is meant to equalize, decentralize, and encourage all members of a congregation to see their participation in the kindom of God as ministry. That ecclesiology may help persons stay engaged in congregational life, but that marketing concept has diluted the image of what a minister is and has made it harder for a minister to carry out the often divergent roles of being a minister: preacher, teacher, prophet, priest, and pastor. I don’t know if that image of minister is taught in mainline seminaries (now known as graduate theological education) anymore, but it was foundational for a time and helped candidates determine what ministerial authority meant and how one gains such authority. I am not a pastor, but being pastoral is one of the roles (hats) I wear every day that I serve and work as an ordained minister of the Gospel.
“Americans have trouble facing the truth. So they invent a kind of a soft language to protect themselves from it” (George Carlin, Parental Advisory, 1990). Read more about George Carlin’s riff on “Soft Language” or watch Carlin do his bit onstage (caution to those easily offended).
“Much obliged.” That’s an old phrase that I first heard while watching Gunsmoke and Bonanza with my paternal grandmother; and in old Westerns (my two favorites: The Shootist and The Cowboys). “Much obliged” best describes my understanding of gratitude and obligation owed to the many ministers that invested themselves in my development as a human being, past and present.
Since we live in a time of rampant identity theft, I won’t use full names nor titles in this space or on social media. I don’t want to make it easier for those whose moral compass seeks the payoff of transactional systemic greed at the expense of the unseen “other.” This list is by no means exhaustive, and there is not one person for every day of October. It represents persons for whom “thank you” doesn’t represent the depth of gratitude and obligation I experience, when I think of them, these ministers who blessed me and held, hold me, accountable.
Dean Suggs barked at me one day during class, “Mr. Davison, do you know the Gospel is one generation away from extinction? What are you prepared to do about it?”
Much obliged . . .
John, Tommy, Margaret, David, Nancy, the Bear, Don, Will, Mary Beth, Ambrose, Charlotte, Terry, Wally, Steve, BSD, Randy, Bob, LBP, Joey, Bill, JR, Jerry, Rick, Guy, Michael, Lisa, Toni, Lon, SJB.