PRANCING TO LONG ISLAND

Two minister friends and I were discussing that favorite topic of the holy grapevine, pastoral relocations. A certain name came up, and one man said, “I hear he’s going to present his ministry to a church on Long Island.”

Present his ministry. I rolled the phrase over in my mind. What a lovely euphemism for the whole awkward business of candidating, I thought. The questioning, he eyeing, the smiling, the chitchatting, the sidestepping, the posturing, the preaching with conviction but not exuberance, with certainty but certainly without controversy, with the appropriate length (anywhere between twenty-two and twenty-two-point-five minutes), the suppressing of the inner yell to have it all over with and be back home . . .

One is hard pressed not to scorn this weekend as a dog-and-pony show. Could the Spirit of God influence this elegant minuet even if he tried? Will this specially primped congregation bear any resemblance to the real people of the future, once they settle down to living with their new pastor?

And then I returned to the euphemism . . . presenting one’s ministry.

And it seemed that perhaps the phrase-rather than a cover-up-had put its finger on the core of the exercise, the goal of all the traveling and phone calls and parsonage tours and motel bills and fervent prayers. For what else is worth presenting? Far more important than donning the right image (red tie or navy?), the expected orthodoxy (KJV, RSV, or NIV?), the correct piety (shall we mention salary now or later?) is the offering of one’s servanthood, the extension of grace-gifts not our own that might be put to the use and blessing of this flock.

In the end, that is all we have. Impressions and images fade within weeks. Our subtle eloquence and well-turned phrases in the committee interview will be soon forgotten. Only God-enabled ministry to real, off-guard human beings will last through the winter.

Perhaps the stakes are too high (for both the would-be pastor and the pastorless church) to say, “Just relax.” That would be another cliche. But amidst the nervousness and Rolaids, it is worth remembering that what is on display here are not men, women, boards, or buildings but something less photographable: a ministry that is a tool of God for the changing of lives.

– Dean Merrill