Meditations from Zion

Apparently I still need a priest. That title is not in my tradition although there has always been the pastor/preacher who was meant to guide or shepherd the church body (and thereby, me too) as well as deliver messages or teach by way of the inspiration of the Holy Spirit. In truth, the human versions are often found wanting. Naturally.

Hebrews 7:26, 28b
Such a high priest truly meets our need—one who is holy, blameless, pure, set apart from sinners, exalted above the heavens. . . . made perfect forever.

On occasion, there are ministers who have crossed my path who have changed my course. In my early days as a Christian in New York, I attended a pentecostal church (much to my own dismay) led by a very old pastor from Norway. I had no personal relationship with him, nor did I find him particularly accessible, but his instruction gave me a hunger for understanding scripture and he was able to explain passages that had stumped me on my own.

Another key pastor in my life was during my early years of marriage while living in Atlanta. He was a brilliant speaker, always intriguing and interesting from the pulpit. He engaged people personally and I am pretty sure everyone who attended that small church had dinner in his home several times a year. It was how his (very southern) family operated. Everyone knew him, warts and all. Through other para-church activities, we became friends and although he was flawed in many ways, his transparency, intelligence, and knowledge of the Bible made a lasting mark. He was our tipping point.

Since then, I have sat under pastors for short periods of time and long. In recent years, I’ve known several pastors of great intelligence who I admired and who gave many words of wisdom and yet, the one thing I longed for was a more personal connection, a sense of camaraderie and kinship. But how could I expect someone who was “ministering” to hundreds or even a thousand of people to guide me? They were simply too busy, too torn by their responsibilities to church and family, too sapped of energy by the truly needy. Oftentimes, I felt like the capable child in a family who everyone assumed was fine, strong, and secure which made it easier to spend time and energy with the struggling one, the emotionally unstable one. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, it’s just how things seemed to evolve.

So, what is my relationship really supposed to be with a pastor now? Having known and followed Christ over 30 years, do I still expect a pastor to be a kind of visionary guide who will come and say, “Jesus told me” that you should do such & such? I would be suspicious of that kind of approach anyway.

All right, all right, I know that Christ is the perfect pastor/priest. Christ is the ultimate shepherd, the ultimate guide, and the one to whom I should be looking for direction. I know that, honestly I do. (I also know that the success of such a relationship depends a great deal on my participation, my willingness to listen, and my time spent in silence. This is not a Sunday morning activity alone, but daily. I get that.)

But what, then, is my relationship to these human pastors? These flawed, but loving men and now women, who have felt called to operate in the role of church leader to “equip the saints.” I believe, at this point, based on experience and a certain amount of self-sufficiency (i.e. self-taught Bible study), that I want to walk beside. I skimmed an interesting online article by Craig Bluemel (who on further browse, appears to be controversial), but I did appreciate his view of the “elders” of the church as co-workers with the pastor. That we are no longer in a time when the church should be a pyramid. We all have something to share and teach by the leading of the Holy Spirit. We are all called to serve. We are indeed that priesthood of all believers [I Peter 2:9]. We need to stop looking elsewhere for “spiritual food” and spend more time looking within and sharing with others what we know.

Christ is our High Priest and will be, forever, yes. But we are the bumbling hands and feet and voice, whether trained or not. We are all imperfect. And so, we should combine our gifts and use them corporately to nurture and celebrate the Holy Spirit on earth.