pastoral work: job or calling

Recently a good friend accepted a pastoral position in congregational ministry and no fault to her declared in her joy, "I got a job!" While I celebrate with her, I also wonder, "Is pastoral work a job or a calling?" Eugene Peterson has something excellent to say about this in his book Working the Angles (a must read for all seminary students - if not all pastors). Peterson says,

At some point we realized the immensity of God and of the great invisibles that socket into our arms and legs, into bread and wine, into our brains and our tools, into mountains and rivers, giving them meaning, destiny, value, joy, beauty, salvation. We responded to a call to convey these realities in word and sacrament and to give leadership to a community of faith in such a way that connected and coordinated what the men and women, children and youth in this community are doing in their work and play...In the process we learned the difference between a profession or craft, and a job. A job is what we do to complete an assignment. Its primary requirement is that we give satisfaction to whomever makes the assignment and pays our wage. We learn what is expected and we do it. There is nothing wrong with doing jobs...we all have them.

But professions and crafts are different. In these we have an obligation beyond pleasing somebody: we are pursuing or shaping the very nature of reality, convinced that when we carry out our commitments we actually benefit people at a far deeper level than if we simply did what they asked of us.

With professions the integrity has to do with the invisibles: for physicians it is health; with lawyers, justice; with professors, learning. And with pastors it is God.

what difference do it make?

Well this post is a first of sorts - not the first post of the new year, but it is the first time I have "reviewed" a book for this blog. Thomas Nelson Publishers graciously sent me a copy of Ron Hall, Denver Moore, and Lynn Vincent's new book What Difference Do It Make? which is the follow-up the their first wildly successful book, The Same Kind of Different As Me.

Lingering behind every "sequel" is the question of whether or not it will be as good as the original. There is no question that What Difference is as good as the first. What Difference Do It Make is a kind of "where are they now" book that not only continues where Same Kind left off, but also shares the fruit of how people from around the nation have responded to Same Kind by telling their stories of answering a call to make a difference in their contexts.

In this world where tragedy makes top news and seemingly sucks the life out of the air around us, What Difference gives us room to breathe more easily. I personally enjoy reading true-life inspiring tales and what is great about this book is that the story is not over - it continues - and will continue for many years to come.

I have included an excerpt from the book below (graciously provided by TNP). After you read this book, give it to a friend, coworker or family member who you think it could inspire to make a difference.

Introduction

Hello again.

If you’re reading this book, it might be because you already have read Same Kind of Different as Me, a true story about my wife, Deborah, and the man who changed our lives, Denver Moore. If you haven’t, don’t worry—we’ve included enough of the story to catch you up. (The “catch up” sections from Same Kind of Different as Me are in italics.)

Since June 2006, when Same Kind of Different as Me snuck first onto bookstore shelves, then onto the New York Times bestsellers list, Denver and I have traveled thousands of miles back and forth across America. We’ve spoken at hundreds of venues, from local book clubs filled with sweet little old ladies to the Bethesda, Maryland, symphony hall. (We were in Bethesda as guests of Doro Bush Kock and her mother, former first lady Barbara Bush, who quite possibly is Denver’s biggest fan.) Throughout that time, we have seen thousands of lives changed—homeless shelters started and millions of dollars raised for the homeless, yes, but also astonishing changes in the lives of everyday Americans that we never could’ve imagined or predicted.

That’s why we wrote this book, to tell you just a few of the stories of hope and redemption that God continues to write in the lives of so many—and in our own.

One day in the spring of 2009, as we were writing, I was in the kitchen at the Murchison estate, where Denver and I live, on a conference call with executives at Thomas Nelson, our publisher. During the call, Denver walked in.

“Hey, Denver,” I said, putting the call on speaker. “We’re talking about titles for the new book. Got any ideas?”

“Title for the new book?” he said, screwing his eyelids down into his famous hard squint. “What difference do it make?”

“What Difference Do It Make?” I said. “That’s it!”

Denver shrugged and walked off, shaking his head.

It was the perfect title. Since Same Kind came out, over and over, like the needle stuck in the groove of an old vinyl record, we’ve repeated a single message: one person can make a difference. My wife, Deborah Hall, is proof of that.

As many of you know, God took Deborah in 2001. Cancer. But if she were here today, she would tell you she was nobody special. If you had come to our house, she would have made you fresh coffee or tea and invited you to sit down at the kitchen table and tell her about yourself. And you would have felt loved. Because that was Deborah’s gift. She loved God and, because of her intimate walk with Him, loved people. Her whole life was about forgiveness and unconditional love, two qualities that most of us find difficult to master on a regular basis.

It really was that simple. Deborah’s life showed that kind of love is attainable for anyone willing to put in the time on their knees, then overcome their fear and go out and get their hands a little dirty. And I have talked to literally hundreds of people who told me that Deborah’s story inspired them to do just that. Through the difference her life made, others are now making a difference, and that’s in part what this book is about. It’s packed full with stories folks have shared with us about how Deborah’s example inspired them to do more, both in their own homes and in their communities.

A lady named Ann, for example, wrote to us from Vivian, a small Louisiana town just north of Shreveport—not too far from Red River Parish, where Denver worked the plantations. Ann wrote of how she loaned Same Kind of Different as Me to about twenty different friends. Every friend who brings it back has a very different story about how the story affected him or her.

“One person notices the friendship Denver and Ron share,” Ann wrote. “Another feels shame over the way her grandparents treated the ‘Denvers’ in their lives.”

One woman surprised Ann by telling her that the portion of the book that dealt with Deborah’s cancer battle stirred her to go and have a colonoscopy she’d been putting off!

Like Ann, we’ve been struck by the amazing variety of stories people tell us about how Debbie’s story affected them. Here we thought we were writing a book about one woman’s determination to make a difference for the homeless, and we started getting letters about marriages restored, friendships renewed, ministries begun, even babies adopted!

In Fort Worth, a high school teacher named Carin told us that, “unbelievably,” she’d been able to get the school administration to approve our book to be read by her entire mental-health class. “The students have learned how so many issues affect our mental health,” Carin wrote. “I have also used the book to help relay to them the importance of community involvement, passion, and what it means to be a servant to others.”

Shortly after Deborah died, her best friend, Mary Ellen, told me that God had whispered to her during prayer that Deborah was like the kernel of wheat Jesus refers to in the gospel of John: “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.”

Mary Ellen told me she thought that maybe Deborah’s death would be like that—fruitful. I cannot even express how much I absolutely did not want to hear that at the time. But it appears that Mary Ellen was right, more right than even she knew.

She told me about the wheat kernel just a couple of days before the dedication of the Deborah L. Hall Memorial Chapel, the new worship facility built at the Union Gospel Mission in my wife’s honor and funded by donations that poured in after local folks heard Denver’s story at her memorial service. At the time, we thought the chapel, along with the new care facilities for the homeless, were the fruit God would bring from my wife’s death. I had no idea that the Union Gospel Mission was just the first fruit in what would become a cornucopia of blessing.

Take Detra, for example. Detra, who lives in Austin, Texas, wrote to tell us that after reading Deborah’s story, she decided to start carrying food and socks and blankets in her car so that she can bless the homeless. Also, her church had a picnic in an Austin park and had so much food that they began feeding hungry people who were in the park that day.

One little girl asked Detra, “When are you coming back?”

After that, the church made the picnic a monthly event where church members sit down and break bread with the homeless.

Would I take back blessings like that one and those you are about to read about in this book? If I could rewind time like a video and create a cancer story with a happy ending, would I?

I’m sorry to say there’s a big part of me that says, “Yes! I want my wife back!”

But I can tell you without reservation that Deborah would say, “No, Ron. I’ll see you soon.”

And so the story goes on—men and women all over the country inspired by the story of Denver and Deborah to make a difference in other people’s lives. Over the past three years, I thought I was making a difference too—traveling and speaking all over the country, “carrying Miss Debbie’s torch,” as Denver calls it. And I suppose I was.

But in 2009, I learned that sometimes the most difficult difference to make is the one that’s closest to home.

– Ron Hall
Dallas, Texas
July 2009

shane claiborne @ wts

Yesterday was a wonderful day! I had the privilege to listen and engage in broad conversation with Shane Claiborne around three talking points - Resurrecting Church, Another Way of Life, and the Scandal of Grace. Shane is an author of several books including: Irrresitible Revolutionand Jesus for President; he is involved in a "movement" called The Simply Way whose motto is Dream big. Live small. Shane has also spent time with Mother Teresa working with orphans and the disenfranchised of Calcutta.

Observations about Shane
Right from his opening joke, what struck me the most about Shane was his joy. At the end of the day, I found myself praying in the car on my way home that God would grant me a portion of Shane's joy. While he had every opportunity to point out all the church's faults and criticize her for all her wrong-doings throughout history - he didn't. Rather he joyfully and tearfully shared stories of where God showed up in people's lives. I respect that. I want that. I want that kind of joy for others.

I found Shane's warmth, candidness, and approach very inviting and I think his demeanor allowed the audience to ask him some difficult [but very good] questions with mutual respect and candidness.

Observations Regarding Making Disciples
Here are some of Shane's observations about making disciples in our contexts today:
1. Move in to the abandoned places - move toward suffering and enter into it, not away from it.
2. Shared economics - practice giving a relational tithe to those whom we know personally. This can be as simple as forming a babysitting co-op to save on babysitting fees or as complex as forming a health care co-op to help pay medical bills for under- or uninsured friends.
3. Practice hospitality and open our homes to those who are hungry or in need.
4. Seek racial reconciliation.
5. Have conversations around sexuality - celebrate singleness and leave room for the celebate. Quoting Shane quoting a monk said, "We can live without sex, but we can't live without love." Well said.
6. Become stewards of God's creation by caring for the earth and exploring alternative options and create teaching opportunities in our neighborhoods to teach stewardship.
7. Seek peace always.
8. Live in rhythm of prayer and Sabbath-rest.

Another Way of Doing Life
In this session, Shane talked at length about a Theology of Enough. He began his talk with a quote from Ghandi who said that there are enough resources in this world to meed everyone's need, but not enough resources to meet everyone's greed. Point well taken. A theology of enough, for Claiborne, is centered in rebirth. Spiritual rebirth, as symbolized and demonstrated in the first part of the Book of Acts, shows that the early Christian church shared all things in common and no one was in need of anything. Rebirth leads to redistribution of goods, services, and wealth. Shane recognizes that this sounds a lot like Communism. To his critics he says, "Loving neighbors [as taught in the Christian Scriptures] makes capitalism obsolete and Marxism unnecessary."

A theology of enough means that we hold on to our possession lightly. Practice the principle of non-attachment which says: I will purchase or receive nothing that I cannot give away. A theology of enough says that the best thing we can do is to give away our best things.

Quotable Quotes
Here are some quotes from Shane's talks that I don't have any other place for:

"Being a Christian is not about better vision, but about having new eyes to see."

"God loves us back to life - we have a God who is greater than our worst sin."

"The closer to God we are, the less we want to throw stones."

"It is grace that dulls the executioner's sword."

"If we lose a generation, it's not because we didn't entertain them, it's because we didn't dare them to follow Jesus."

blogging break

I've been pretty slammed over the last month with church work, school, and other obligations. I'll be up and running in a week or two. Check back soon.

where is God when it hurts - part four

A Critique of Culture
Yancey rightly questions our culture's false perceptions regarding pain, "Not only is pain useful as a warning - it may also be an essential element in our richest experiences....We are told that pain is the antithesis of pleasure....Our distorted viewpoint helps foster the myth that pain and pleasure are diametrically opposed: our life styles murmur it to us every day" (41-2).

This is a tough pill to swallow, yet we must contend with the apparent opposing worldviews. Though not always obvious, our culture and the societies in which we live - both rightly and wrongly - tell us that pain is "bad" - "Have a sore back? Take some Aleve." Americans, including myself, tend to conceptualize pain as something that must be mastered with technology (42). Our culture tends to remove us from the natural cycle of pain and death in the animal world - we experience these things vicariously through alternative media outlets like television, movies, magazines, the internet, and books. This kind of vicarious living produces numbness. We can become numb to the natural rhythms of creation. Yancey says, "It is too easy for us to perceive the sensations of life as something which must be done to us. We don't see pleasure as something we reach out for and actively attain after struggle. If it involves pain, we abandon the search" (43).

"On a higher level," Yancey continues, "most worthwhile human accomplishments involve a long history of struggle...The pleasure after the pain absorbs it...Jesus used childbirth as an analogy: nine months of waiting, intense labor, then absolute ecstasy (John 16:21)" (47).

Yancey closes this section with this thought, "Pain cannot be extracted from life's experiences and roundly condemned. A knee-jerk reaction against God for allowing pain is futile [see Job]...and often it is a necessary step to pleasure and fulfillment" (49).

I like that - "Pain is a necessary step to pleasure and fulfillment." Anything worth doing or anything worth being or attaining will ultimately cost you something of tremendous value. It requires investment and sacrifice [among other things]. Childbirth is just one example. Another example are athletes who are dedicated to their sports and put the time, energy, and training in order to compete at a high level.

I don't think that we need to necessarily "embrace" or "encourage" pain - but we do need to recognize that without pain we don't really know what pleasure is. Pain - though uncomfortable for us to experience - is necessary to living a fulfilled life.

More to come...