\nAt this year’s clergy workshop, a denominational staff person hailed the\nvirtues of lay ministry. He attempted to shock us with statements such as,\n“We are in a post-Christian, post-Constantinian era when Christianity is\nrelegated to the sidelines of mainstream society and culture.” Furthermore,\n“If we clergy don’t unleash the laity to do ministry, as the early church\ndid, then we will die as a denomination!”<\/p>\n\n
\nWake-up calls were quickly followed by descriptions of the cell-group model\nof developing lay leaders. Clergy are supposed to select about a half dozen\nstrong lay persons to train as pastoral caregivers, outreach persons, etc.\nWhat still echoes in my mind is the suggestion that if I don’t do this, then\nmy small church of 80 worshipers on Sunday will die!<\/em><\/p>\n \nOf course, such leadership workshops are accompanied by great collegial\nfellowship. We celebrated Holy Communion together.<\/p>\n\n \nFinally, we heard more about the growth potential of a ministry in which\nclergy equip and empower laity to do daily pastoral care (and the pastor\nremains available for crises).<\/p>\n\n \nAfter the final hymn of our two-day retreat, I drove home to the town of\n250 people where I serve as pastor in the Lutheran church. It’s nothing like\nthe environment I’ve just left. The lingering retreat aroma of fresh pine\ntrees is abruptly interrupted by the smell of a dead skunk in the middle\nof the state route into town.<\/p>\n\n \nStill, I can’t contain the excitement of what could happen when we implement\nlay ministry in our church of about thirty families. So I stop to share all\nmy newly acquired information with the lady at the post office. A strong\nsupporter of my ministry, she is also my council’s evangelism person. Upon\nhearing the fiery excitement of my voice and the benefits of undershepherding\nministries, the first words out of her mouth are, “Forget it, Pastor. Why\ndo you think 80 percent of our budget goes to your<\/em> compensation package?”<\/p>\n\n \nThe wind knocked out of my sails, I realize that most people in my small\ncongregation don’t want to be unleashed to do ministry. It’s not a matter\nof pastors like me stifling their creativity or their leadership potential\nwithin. It’s a matter of tired, exhausted people who want a shepherd.<\/p>\n\n \nMy congregation considers the annual council election on par with drawing\nlots to see who gets a root canal. Mine is a congregation of dual-income\nhouseholds with tired parents and overscheduled children. I’m lucky to get\nsuch people to show up for council once a month (with summers off) and for\ncommittee meetings four times a year, and to teach.<\/p>\n\n \nTo suggest that such people have some sort of pent-up energy to do\ncell-group-style ministry is grabbing for straws. Ever since I’ve arrived,\nthis congregation’s main objective has been to sustain a full-time, ordained\npastor as their shepherd. I am that faithful shepherd. It remains a mysterious\nsymbol of stability. They like my wearing the clerical collar and leading\nworship in traditional ways, with only occasional attempts to be seeker\nsensitive. This congregation expects me to be their highly visible, loving\nshepherd. Five hundred years of Reformation tradition solidifies such\nexpectations.<\/p>\n\n \nI feel bad at times that recruiting church leaders is like twisting arms.\nI’ve had to threaten to cancel vacation Bible school before a director came\nforward-and often this person is a fairly new member of the church. Some\ncommittee and council positions have remained vacant. Attempts to shorten\nmeetings, stick to the agenda, and set out bowls of candy are appreciated,\nbut they don’t necessarily result in a Pentecost experience making people\nwant to become church leaders.<\/p>\n\n \nI toss and turn at night, wondering why I can’t unleash my small congregation\nto be like that fiery, apostolic church I’ve read and heard so much about.\nWill this congregation die when I leave one day, due to lack of lay leadership\ndevelopment?<\/p>\n\n \nThis type of burden feels like what Martin Luther called “the law.” Fortunately,\nthe same council person who knocked the wind out of my sails after the clergy\nretreat also provided me with some gospel: “Pastor, you are not called to\nbe the savior of this church or town. There is only one Savior, and you’re\nnot him!”<\/p>\n\n \nShe added, “If there is not energy or fire-in-the-belly to keep the church\nor town going when any of us leave, then maybe it is the Lord’s will that\nthe town and its establishments close up. Meanwhile, don’t beat yourself\nup, Pastor, because something you learned at a workshop doesn’t work here.\nContinue loving us, preaching good sermons, teaching, and remaining available\nto us when we are in crisis, and you’ll be doing exactly what we called you\nto do.”<\/p>\n\n \nWith those words of absolution, a heavy yoke is lifted from my shoulders.\n<\/p>\n\n \nIn a congregationally governed church, pastors can push\nthe envelope only so far. I’m learning when to back off.<\/p>\n\n \nAs far as cell groups, I’ve come to realize we already have them. They are\nin the form of traditional families who meet weekly in the living rooms of\nthe various patriarchs and matriarchs of the church. Surrogate family experiences\nare neither requested nor desired. Our adult Sunday school class is as good\nas it gets around here.<\/p>\n\n \nThis church was without a pastor when they celebrated their one-hundredth\nanniversary. Without a shepherd to bring things together, everybody pitched\nin, worked hard, and developed one of the finest celebration events of this\ncongregation’s history. Yet within a year of my arrival, the status quo was\nentrenched again, and the pastor became the hub of most church activity.<\/p>\n\nWho wants to lead?<\/h2>\n
We already have cell groups<\/h2>\n