On Being a Pastor

When my wife’s friends heard that she was planning to marry a pastor, they cringed. They feared she would lose her vibrancy and relevance. In fact, I think her zest for life has made me a better pastor.

I love being a pastor. It challenges and stretches me and brings me deep joy. I would be a pastor even if nobody paid me to do it; it’s what I’m wired up to be.

The term 'pastor' comes from the world of sheep-herding, from biblical prototypes like Moses and David who made their living tending sheep and later became effective national leaders. Some pastors I know are kingdom-builders, dynamic visionaries, mobilizers and history-makers; others guide and shape souls one-by-one. Like teachers we’re largely catalysts in the God-energized growth of others.


Like farmers we seed truth and we call forth seeds that God plants in other people’s lives. Like parents we journey with people in the joys and shadowlands of life, in sickness, grief and loss, in failure and spiritual deserts. We help them prepare for marriage and baptism and we celebrate as they discover gifts for serving.

As a pastor I am a mentor and a servant. I serve by listening and asking questions, equipping, encouraging and teaching. I’m an advisor, consultant, coach and fellow-learner. I’m a purveyor of hope when people are demoralized or short-sighted. I try to point them to God when people only see dire circumstances; I assert that Jesus is alive and well in the dark shadows of life. I share my own struggles and we pray.

Eugene Peterson says that the role of pastors is to insist to their community that ‘getting ahead’ is not enough. Our task is “to bring to recognition what is blurred and forgotten, to name God when the name of God slips people’s minds.” Under the Unpredictable Plant (1992). That involves calling people into rest when the hectic pace of their lives is killing them; it means urging them into God’s mission when the seduction of ease narrows their horizons.

The credentials for pastoral work have less to do with scholarship or eloquence or the authority of church office and more to do with character and experience as a servant of God – and that’s a scary thing. Hypocrisy stalks me. It was said of Israel’s king that “David shepherded them with integrity of heart and with skillful hands he led them.” Psalm 78:72 That text helps shape my sense of vocation, especially as he and I share the same name. It calls me to truthfulness, discipline and honest self-monitoring, as well as honing my skills, understanding and competence. It challenges me to be a life-long learner.

But often pastoring is persevering in the midst of mystery. Lynn Anderson says in They Smell Like Sheep Volume 2 (2007) that to pastor well, "you have to be at peace with ambiguity". There is a mystery to life and people; deeper mysteries within myself and, as Job discovered, even more mystery when you’re trying to speak truthfully about God. Mystery is humbling and unnerving, but it also invites us into a place of wonder, awe and gratitude.

One of the temptations in pastoral work is to over-promise certainty, because that’s what people want – and there are some bed-rock certainties in life. But one of the most certain is that God often builds faith by taking us into the fog. Walking and praying with people in the dark and fearful places and reminding them of God’s faithfulness is one of the most demanding and rewarding callings I know.

Image Sources:
Shepherd - Bible Places(dot)com
Support - Samscotti
Horses - Windhorse