CHRIST IN WINTER: The
Irrelevant Reminiscences of An Old Preacher—
Younger preachers, and some not so young, felt free to come to me with their problems because they knew--sooner and better than I did--that I would never be in a position to affect their job.
In Methodism, pastors are not “called” [hired] by a congregation. Each pastor is appointed to their place by a bishop, with a helping hand, sometimes a heavy hand, from a District Superintendent [DS], who is sort of an assistant bishop, able to be in closer relationship to pastors and churches because of presiding over a smaller geographical region.
Technically, the DS—and
sometimes the bishop--is a pastor’s pastor.
It’s hard, though, for a pastor to go to the bishop or DS for help with problems, either personal or churchly, and confess how deficient professionally or sinful personally they are. When appointment time comes, you want the bishop and DS thinking only of the façade you’ve built that indicates you should have bigger and better appointments.
I had a reputation for understanding the ways of bishops and DSs even though I wasn’t one. [1] Folks knew that I could hear their problems, and perhaps give helpful advice, without ever being in a position to use what they told me against them.
I also had a reputation as a trouble-maker who hated meetings. The purpose of bishops and DSs is to avoid trouble and go to meetings. [2] No one would ever consider me as a bishop or DS. So, I was safe. I heard a lot of worries and confessions from colleagues.
Through the years, I became a sort of pastor to pastors without portfolio. I never had an official position or authority to pastor pastors, but often I would get a call--sometimes from a colleague I barely knew, because our conference was quite large—and the caller said, “I have a problem. I don’t know what to do. They told me I should see you.” Sometimes I knew who “they” were, and sometimes I didn’t. Regardless, I tried to be helpful. I tried to be a friend.
When I went back to congregation pastoring, after a decade in campus ministry, I was surprised how lonely most of my fellow pastors were. I had never been lonely. The first 3 years I was preaching, I lived in a college dorm. Then I got married, and went to seminary. Helen was always my best friend, and the seminary was a natural fellowship. When I was in campus ministry, I wasn’t much older than my students, and we had a great friendship community that continues to this day.
Then, after all those years on campus, I became the only pastor of my denomination in a small town. It’s hard to be friends with people in a congregation, people who decide how little your salary should be. So I looked for friends among the other preachers.
But it’s hard to be friends with pastors of other denominations, too. Preachers are wary of one another, afraid that a more attractive shepherd might steal their sheep. That wasn’t a problem for me. I didn’t worry about other pastors stealing my sheep. If one of my members found a better church home, that was a good thing. All the better for them. So I was able to befriend pastors of other denominations, too.
I took friendship for other pastors as one of my ministries. I got no “points” for doing so, either with my congregations or my denominational leaders, but I got a great deal of personal satisfaction from those friendships.
I’ve told before of how our bishop, Leroy Hodapp, told me he was going to appoint me to the Investigation Committee, kind of the equivalent of Internal Affairs in a police force, following up complaints of cop corruption. I said that wasn’t a good idea because I would be too sympathetic with folks who did wrong. “That’s why I want you on there,” he said. “Every sinner should have one friend.”
It’s lonely being a sinner as a preacher. Preachers are supposed to be above sin, and we aren’t. I was always glad if I could be a sinful colleague’s friend.
As Christians, we’re supposed to live like Jesus. Most of the time, I’m not very good at that, but at least I have gotten to be a friend to sinners. [3]
John Robert McFarland
1] Often, at meetings of the clergy women of our conference, I would be the only man present, by invitation, because they thought I knew stuff, since I hung around with the bishop and DSs socially. Actually, I never knew as much as either they or I thought I did.
2] There is a great difference between meetings and gatherings. It’s only meetings I hate. I love gatherings.
3] Mt 11:19, Lk 7:34.
