What I Miss About Pastoring: Preaching

Thought I'd write a few posts about what I miss most (and least) about pastoring. I'm not sure who it'll help or if it will give insight to congregations about what their pastor goes through.

A quick disclaimer - don't take me to say that I regret my current life. If you're a regular reader, you know I'm repentant of my sin. But I can tell you that God does love me and has blessed me with good things. Love my wife, love my little section of the world.

I do miss preaching. In fact, when I talk to active pastors, that's one of their first questions - "I bet you miss preaching, huh?" I just want to say, "Would you miss oxygen if someone held you under water for two minutes?"

There is just something about spending that time in the Word the week before (not the night before), opening it up in preparation for an expository message, digging for hermeneutical treasure, looking for the author's intended meaning, then relating that to your church.

Of course, you'll occasionally mess it up. But the joy that comes from preaching that Word is impossible to relate to someone who hasn't been called to to it. And you know you'll never get them to love that passage as you've loved that passage during the week. You'll never get them to see every beautiful jot and tittle of it, but your heart explodes with passion about God's Word during your time behind that pulpit.

And the joy you feel when you see the face of a church member (hopefully members) in the crowd when then have that look of discovery moment (or the "oh, now I get it" look) while you're preaching. Because during the week, you understood something beautiful about the passage and now you were able to relate it to them.

And even more beautiful is when God moves upon a person by His Word and convicts them, leading them in His way. Not because of you, but because of Him.

Those moments are irreplaceable.

I've preached since my fall and hope to supply again in the future. To tell the story of the grace He has shown me and His forgiveness. It brings me joy. I would love to supply every Sunday if God sees fit to let me use the gifts He gave me.

To church members, I would say remember that your pastor has been spending hours preparing his sermon. He has prayed over it, studied it, gotten frustrated over it, and sometimes cried over it. You may walk out of the service saying, "Well, I didn't get anything out of that," but what exactly did you put into it? Pray for your pastor during the week as he prepares. Pray for your own heart to be touched by God's Word.

To pastors, I pray you will fight temptation, stay strong in the Word, and do not neglect your own private devotional time as I did. Don't let the distractions of meetings, committees, and complaints push you away from the most important thing you do.

To everyone else, find a pastor who preaches the Word. Without fail. A man who would die for his convictions. Who knows what he stands for. Who understands the righteousness of Christ and lives it out. But remember he is a human.

The Hypocrisy of the Sunday School Lesson

I've been thinking too much lately. Blame the medication. Blame my never ending search for a church to join. Or just blame the cynicism that is inherent within me.

I've been thinking about the faulty way we read Scripture. It's worse than I thought. I'm just as guilty as anyone. Maybe worse. Even worse than when I pastored. I think I've/we've been reading Scripture wrong our entire lives. We've missed the point.

Now, don't take me for one of those Jesus seminar people. Please.

But here's the deal. We read the stories of those hideous Pharisees and we condemn them. We tell them to the kids in Sunday School and we say, "You don't want to be like them, do you?" Of course they don't. Those guys were jerks, right?

None of us would ever identify ourselves with Pharisees, would we? Not for a second.

Think about some of the stories. Christ heals a man with a withered hand on the Sabbath. The Pharisees get bent out of shape. We tell our Sunday School classes that those jerky Pharisees were out of line. We know the story, right? We know how it ends! Those guys should have known better. How dare they! They should have known that Christ was in their midst and shouldn't have been so darn picky. Sabbath made for man, etc.

What about the woman caught in adultery? Those guys set that woman up. We know how that story ends as well. We're supposed to forgive that woman and know that it was unfair for those Pharisees/Scribes/crowd to be so angry with her. Christ took her side and forgave her. How dare they! Listen, Sunday School class, we need to be like Christ. Be forgiving, be loving. Don't be like those Pharisees. Love the sinner, hate the sin.

In Sunday School, we do so well for an hour. We paint our picket signs that read, "Love Christ! Love the Sinner! Don't be self-righteous!" And we feel so good about our Christianity for two hours on Sunday.

Then we go out to lunch to Ryan's Steakhouse and we forget it all.

On Monday, someone commits adultery against us. Or one of our friends. Someone commits a great sin against us. Or, like the man with a withered hand, someone violates one of our "sacred rules." And we get bent out of shape.

We forget the Sunday School lesson. It was forgotten the second we walked out the doors of the church, wasn't it?

Know why? Because it was okay for Christ to forgive those people. We knew how those stories ended. We're supposed to love the man with a withered hand. We're supposed to forgive the adulterous woman in John 8. Know why? Because we'll never see those people. They're text. They're black and white. They're not real. We'll never see them.

But to heck with the sinners we meet Monday through Saturday. They're in big trouble. Especially when they cross our path or when they violate our rules.

But heck. We're not Pharisees. We're just practicing righteous anger - the sinner must be punished. I used to think that way. Christ used anger when he was in the temple, so why can't I?

And when I get to church Sunday, I'll tell my friends about what happened to me this week (it's not gossip, of course when I'm telling church people) and they'll tell me I did the right thing. Instead of forgiving the sin that was done to me, I got angry and reciprocated. I won't see the disconnect with what I heard in church last week or this week, but it won't matter.

Know why? Because church is just something I do. Those stories are just stories. It's all good and well for Jesus to do those things.

I'll sit in the pew and sing my songs about the love of Christ and maybe even listen to a sermon on loving my neighbor.

But don't cross me. And don't expect me to act any different than a Pharis... What I mean is, I'll act just like a disciple of Christ.

"I've Forgiven Them In My Heart"

I want to write about a statement that really, really bothers me. "I've forgiven 'so and so' in my heart."

I have heard this sentiment over and over for many years. I understand what it means. Usually, it means, "I say I forgive them, but I never really want to tell them I forgive them."

Is this true, biblical forgiveness? Does Jesus ever tell us that we can "forgive someone in our heart" then never tell them that we've forgiven them?

No.

Now, I'll grant that there are times that we need to give forgiveness and that full reconciliation is not going to happen. I get that. That's not what I'm even talking about.

I'm talking about John Churchgoer who doesn't want to be a man and face the person who has wronged him and say, "I forgive you." He doesn't want to accept the apology or repentance of the person who is offering it. He doesn't want to look that person in the eye ever again, as is required by Scripture. He just wants an "out".

So he says, "I forgive him in my heart."

Where did this horrible phrase ever come from? Is this an American church thing? It needs to be preached against. It needs to be spoken out against. It needs to be stricken from our vocabulary.

Forgiveness needs to be real and honest. It doesn't need to be silent. It's either real or not. It's either genuine and seeking toward reconciliation or it's not.

Forgiveness: Introduction To A Tough Topic

There are a lot of different streams that run into my story that I want to take time to deal with. One of these is more of a raging river than a stream. It's the topic of forgiveness.

As a former pastor, one of my last sermon topics was on forgiveness. I was dealing with letting go of the bad relationship I had with my father and also trying to help Angelica deal with her friend back home who had committed a sin. I searched Scripture to find out what was the right thing to do and the steps to take toward forgiveness.

Now, I'm living a life that needs forgiveness from others, one that has been granted forgiveness by God, and one that still holds onto the need to forgive a few people in my life.

One of my favorite phrases to use when writing this blog is, "I'll be honest." Usually, when I say that, I'm about to share something that comes from deep within me. Blogging anonymously gives me the ability to write about something I'm thinking but wouldn't tell some of my closest friends. It enables me to tell you things I would have never told people when I was a pastor. So here I go.

I'll be honest, I'm having a hard time with forgiveness right now. Especially in how others deal with it.

Now, let me be very, very clear. Ultra clear. Crystal clear. Cancun/Gulf of Mexico clear before the oil spill hit. I sinned. I hurt a lot of people. Do I stand here feeling like those people owe me something? Not really. But let me say it this way - there are a ton of relationships that I and my sin destroyed overnight and I hold out hope that they can be restored.

Do I believe they can be restored? Absolutely. The Bible tells me nothing less. Angelica has already reached out to me in forgiveness. I've had a couple of former church members reach out to me and tell me they don't hold anything against me.

Here's where I am today after talking to a bunch of fallen pastors. Please bear with me. Churches get hurt badly - very badly, by fallen pastors. I've seen it first hand and I've seen it through stories others have told me. It's awful. Their spiritual leader betrays them and they typically (or at least in my case) are disillusioned and lash out often in hurt. That hurt turns into bitterness, anger, and sometimes outright meanness.

I see that. I get it. That's how they feel. I've been hurt before. I've been angry before. I've lashed out before for a long period of time.

But you know what? I was wrong to do it.

Let me put it another way. When a church endures the fall of a pastor, they're typically hurt for a long time. Most of the fallen pastors I've talked to get pushed out the door and hide in shame for some period of time (don't hear me trying to get your pity, I'm not. You should know me by now if you read this blog at all, I'm just stating how things are). After that time of shame, a lot of them write a letter to the church of repentance (if they already haven't in their resignation).

What I find and what I've experienced is that their former church members don't want to have anything to do with them. Some have been out for 10-20 years and have heard nothing from former church members, despite attempting to reach out. One online article I read said that the pastor had been gone for 30 years and members were still holding on to their anger.

Guess what? Hurt takes time. Every fallen pastor and non-fallen pastor has told me the same thing. They tell me, "Most of them will never come around. They probably will never speak to you again. But give them time, maybe one or two of them will."

I understand all of that. I had my own father hurt me and it took me two full years to get back to where I'd talk to him. Was it right? No. I was unforgiving and sinful in my actions toward him. But even if I had been moving toward forgiveness, it would have taken me time to reconcile. So yes, I'm human, I get it.

I'm going to ask three questions right now and ponder them a little that I hope to answer in the next few blog posts. But they trouble me.

How long should people go before waiting to forgive? In that waiting, what does Scripture say about how long we should wait? And just because the typical pattern is 20-30 years (or never) to wait for forgiveness, does that make it right?

How is hurt tied to forgiveness? We don't forget like God does. Forgiving doesn't mean we're saying that what the person did was okay. But is it possible that our hurt keeps us from forgiveness? In that same vein, is forgiveness a legal transaction while hurt is an emotional response to what happened?

My final question for thought is one that makes me think. When two people have an issue between them that needs to be dealt with and forgiven, is it enough for one of them to say, "I've forgiven them in my heart. But I don't need to speak to them ever again." What good does it do to forgive someone if that isn't shared? Is it Scriptural?

I've got a lot going on in my anonymous brain and I hope to hammer some of it out with your help. God bless.