A Different Kind of Pastoral Appreciation

A few days back, I was having a discussion with my class about the fact that though October is known by most as the month dedicated to Breast Cancer Awareness, it is also the month designated as Bullying and Domestic Violence Prevention Month. Little did I know that the list went on. October is also designated as:

• Auto Battery Safety Month
• Dwarfism Awareness Month
• Filipino History Month
• Black History Month (celebrated in the U.K.)
• Fair Trade Month
• National Squirrel Awareness Month (for real)

Another designation October has, though, is as "Clergy Appreciation Month." I grew up in a church culture (of the Southern Baptist persuasion), so the fact that churches typically dedicate a month specifically to showing gratitude to and encouraging their ministerial staff members is something with which I'm fairly familiar. I have often seen church folks host special meals, arrange special church events, send special cards or letters of appreciation, or even give gifts to make known their admiration and appreciation for ministers who give their lives to the ministry of the gospel, often a daunting and lonely calling.

And to do such things is right. We are called, as followers of Christ, to build up the body by encouraging one another, spurring each other on toward good works as we are commanded by the writer of Hebrews. It is proper and good for Christians to show appreciation to those leaders God has put in place to shepherd His flock through any and all Godly means.

That said, I ran across a snippet of a sermon from Charles Haddon Spurgeon in which he may actually be laying out another, far more impactful way that a church can appreciate its pastors than by a gift card or a plaque or recognition.

Spurgeon tells the story of a man named Erskine, saying:

"There is a story told of Mr. Erskine having preached on one occasion before the communion, and a good woman, a child of God, heard him with such delight, and was so much fed and satisfied, that she left her own pastor, and went some miles on the next Lord's day to go and hear him again. That morning, he was dreadfully dry and barren, or at least she thought that he was. There was no food for her whatever; and being not a very wise woman, she went in to tell him so. She said, "Oh, Mr. Erskine, I heard you at the communion with such delight; you seemed to take me to the very gates of heaven, and I was fed with the finest of the wheat; so I have come this morning on purpose to hear you, and I confess that I have got nothing out of you!" So he said, "My good woman, what did you go for last Sabbath-day?" "I went to the communion; Sir." "Yes, you went to the communion; that was to have communion with the Lord?" "Yes," she said, "I did." "Well," said Mr. Erskine, "that is what you went for, and you got it; and the Lord blessed my word to you, and you had communion with Him. Now, what did you come here for this morning?" "I came to hear you, Sir." "And you have got what you came for, there is nothing in me."

Spurgeon goes on from this anecdote to implore his congregants as follows:

Think of this story when you are remembering the Lord's servants, and forgetting their Master Himself. I do believe that, as you are sitting here, you whose eyes have already been opened by the Spirit of God, if you will but say, "Cause every man to go out from me; shut to the door, I have entered into my closet even while in the pew; I am alone now, and I desire to see no man save Jesus only," you shall see Him, for He manifests Himself to His people all alone. Oh, that each one here would say, "There is nothing but Christ that I desire to see, there is nothing else I wish to remember, I would think only of my Lord Jesus; may He be pleased to reveal Himself to me!""

In some sense, I have been the "good woman" from this story.  I have, on many occasions, put the burden of my spiritual fulfillment on the back of a human, rating his sermon and acting as if his oratorial prowess, his ability to deliver God's word with Billy-Graham-esque authority were the prime determinants of my Sunday communion with the Lord. In casual conversation, I've compared pastors to more well-known pulpit personas, pitting them against each other as if the guy with mega-church credibility and the super-smooth delivery is a measuring stick to use against my pastor, the guy with the smaller flock. And when I have left church feeling like God and I missed each other, I've too often blamed the pastor (all in the name of honest and fair critique). After all, it's his job to make sure God and I touch base, right? Wrong.

Such a burden is too much to put on any human. When congregations put that kind of expectation on a pastor, he is certainly doomed for inevitable, heart-crushing failure.

So how can this story be a lesson in properly appreciating our pastors? In another portion of the same sermon, Spurgeon says this:

"Perhaps the preacher is one whom you dearly love, and you expect much from him. Well then, forget him, expect nothing from him, but look away from him to your Lord. Or perhaps the preacher's voice has no particular charm for you, the man is not very bright in his utterances; well, forget him, and try to see his Master. Forget the preacher for good and for bad, for better and for worse, and get to the Lord Himself."

Perhaps we can most effectively show our deep and sincere gratitude to our church leaders by doing as Spurgeon suggests, by coming to church intentionally seeking Christ, determined to boldy approach God's throne of grace ourselves (Heb 4:16) rather than expecting our pastors to usher us there against our will.  Perhaps we best encourage pastors by placing God-sized expectations on God, not them.

To be clear, there are clear and explicit spiritual expectations laid out for pastors in the apostle Paul's letters to Titus and Timothy, as well as the book of 1 Peter, but none of these qualifications give a congregation grounds to nit-pick a pastor or, worse yet, designate him as the determining factor in their personal relationship with Christ. Such an expectation will certainly prove an unbearable weight for any man.

It is my hope that this month as we raise needed money to fight breast cancer, handle car batteries safely, celebrate Filipino history, and remind ourselves that squirrels exist, we might also take the opportunity to truly show our pastors how much we love, care for, and appreciate them by freeing them to proclaim the good news of our God...not expecting them to be God.

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