do not become a pastor unless you absolutely have to
really, don’t do it
“Do not become a pastor unless you absolutely have to.”
That was what my Assemblies of God pastor told me before I went to Eastern Baptist Theological Seminary in Philadelphia. (I don’t think those were his exact words, but it was something to that effect. By the way, in 2005 EBTS was renamed Palmer Seminary.)
I didn’t make any response, but my thought process was, “Don’t worry about that. I have no intention of going down that road. I am not at all interested in being a pastor.”
A treat baked by a friend to be enjoyed after our ordination service. (I’m wearing a bandana after brain surgery.)
I believe there were a variety of impulses contributing to the advice he gave. I’m sure there was a great desire to follow the leading of the Holy Spirit. Also, he no doubt encountered numerous folks who had no more business being pastors than, well, I did! There were characters standing behind pulpits with Lord only knows what was coming out of their mouths. (Maybe I should withdraw that statement. How many times could that be said of me?)
Still, without question, personal experience informed his counsel. Being in his sixties at the time, he was a veteran of the—let’s call them—ecclesiastical wars. That would include battles with both congregation and clergy.
(On a side note, by the grace of God, that rarely has been my lot. However, for Banu, my partner in ministry and love of my life, that has too often been her fate. I imagine being a woman and an immigrant, from Turkey in her case, has had much to do with it.)
Another element, and I freely admit I’m getting into speculative territory here, would be the encounters of varying successes and failures in his current pastorate. There were those willing to contribute their own analyses, some helpful, others not-so-much. There is wisdom in receiving observations from those speaking the truth in love. That’s important: speaking the truth… in love… Both must be present. Although, I suppose once in a while an uncaring brutal remark can serve a good purpose!
I could say more, but I’ll include a comment made to me a couple of years earlier at the Assemblies of God Bible college in Lakeland, Florida. A dear Old Testament professor urged me to not get ordained in the A/G. Having gone to Columbia Seminary in Atlanta, he was immersed in the Presbyterian ethos. He suggested that as a path of ordination. He had his reasons for that advice, which I won’t go into. Just as with the later guidance from my pastor, I figured he had nothing to worry about.
(Another side note: I immensely valued all of my Old Testament professors, both in Bible college and seminary. They helped foster in me my love of the Hebrew scriptures.)
It is notable how someone with no intention of pursuing parish ministry was interested in both Bible college and seminary. It probably speaks to my orientation toward academic (perhaps theoretical?) approach to life. I recognize it as the way I was built—with a built-in challenge.
At the seminary, I pursued a Master of Arts in Theological Studies. It would be useful to those interested in, say, parachurch ministries or public policy. As the time for graduation drew near, I investigated many places where I could make use of my training. Nothing materialized. Banu, my wife-to-be, was taking me to dinner at the home of some missionary friends of hers. On the drive there I was lamenting my lack of success. She made the simple suggestion that I pursue the Master of Divinity degree, which is the one primarily for those interested in pastoral ministry.
The clouds parted. The light shone. My spirit was lifted. Everything made sense. Of course! I had always wanted to be a pastor! What had I been thinking? What was I, crazy? It was always down there, that yearning deep in the chasm buried under denials and excuses.
So, jumping ahead to 1997, Banu and I were ordained in the Presbytery of Philadelphia. We have now been pastors for 25 years. Doing the math, it would seem to be 26 years. However, we spent a year with my mother in Tennessee, who had some health issues. And truth be told, we sensed we needed a hiatus, especially from the Presbyterian Church. We toyed with following a path to ordination in the Episcopal Church, but realized it wasn’t for us. In early 2016, we returned to parish ministry.
Do not become a pastor unless you absolutely have to. It is too important to take lightly.
I feel like I have been released from the “have to” part of that directive. And I am ready to go. Don’t misunderstand, I became a pastor, not simply because I had to, but because I dearly wanted to. I don’t recall if I said this to a professor or to a fellow student, but I noted it is possible (and even necessary) to bring whatever one has learned to the position of pastor. Nothing is excluded.
There isn’t any one single reason why I feel released from the “have to” be a pastor.
I can say part of it is something we’ve heard people in the political arena say about their parties. They didn’t leave their party, rather their party left them. I have a similar feeling about the Presbyterian Church (USA). I have loved being part of that denomination. In a way, I still do. But I must say it is more of it leaving me than my leaving it.
Before Covid, things already were beginning to feel less certain. However, beginning in 2020, many of my fellow Presbyterians seemed to do a 180. At least, that’s how it appeared to me! People who once were offended by Big Pharma and censorship almost blindly embraced it.
Still, it goes further than that. Certain social positions have become arrogantly armed with imposed mandates. People have been unapologetically cancelled for even questioning accepted narratives. It might not have been done overtly, but the covert understanding was those not in our tribe deserved exclusion. Once upon a time, we criticized those in the conservative camp for doing the exact same thing.
Those who express any honest and humble discussion are labeled as “—phobic,” depending on the flavor of the day. Giving someone such a tag is a way of dismissing them. It is a way of killing their name. I say to my shame I used to be sympathetic with that behavior.
Having said all that, please understand this is not a blanket statement! I in no way believe most of my colleagues are guilty of that stuff. I do believe, however, the ones pulling the strings have been pushing those narratives.
Moving on from all that negative stuff, it really is about following the Holy Spirit into a new realm. Banu and I are moving into a whole new chapter of life and ministry. And I joyfully and gladly do so.
Nonetheless, I would be lying if I didn’t confess to some anxiety by plunging into the unknown, relatively speaking. I am leaving something I have considered to be a huge part of my identity for all these years. I will hold on to pastoral elements I especially enjoy, namely preaching and teaching. For Banu, the call to be a pastor has been in her rearview mirror for quite some time. She has said as much on several (many) occasions.
It is indeed a leap of faith. We all have our own stories. They might deal with family situations, career, moving to a different part of the country, a different part of the world, saying goodbye, saying hello.
When we go with God, we can take comfort in the words spoken through Moses to the children of Israel. “It is the Lord who goes before you. He will be with you; he will not fail you or forsake you. Do not fear or be dismayed” (Deuteronomy 31:8).