Chrysostom #2 - A Priesthood of Preachers

For all the prominence given to the business of preaching in our pastoral schemas it is odd that this topic has not been addressed significantly in my previous texts. Both Bucer and Herbert, of course, make reference to the importance of preaching. Yet it is apt that it is Chrysostom who places the ability to preach as the major practical skill of pastoral ministry. For those not aware, John Chrysostom was the John Piper of the ancient church, able to both deeply move a congregation's emotions and challenge their minds on important doctrinal issues. Chrysostom was not a systematician but a preacher, and it is through the preached word that his theological contributions were made. Very few others have managed to follow his lead, though it is arguably the best theological methodology we have.

It is necessary to remember that at this point in his life Chrysostom felt himself unworthy of ministry calling, perceiving himself to be both open to the temptation of vanity and unable to resist the attacks upon his soul that would come from a public role. His harsh self-assessment leads him to think himself ill-equipped to deal with the most important pastoral task - the salvation and healing of souls. Military language and allusion permeate Chrysostom's argument. It is clear that he views the world as a place of spiritual conflict, where the weak are preyed on by the powers of darkness, protected only those equipped for the battle.

The equipment required is the Word (IV.3). It is not always a gentle balm to the wound but it is the one that God has given for the salvation of souls. Only when the Word of God dwells richly in the heart of the minister are they ready to defeat those opposed to the gospel of salvation (IV.4). It is clear that Chrysostom prefers substance over style, despite his own classical education which had stressed the importance of rhetoric. While a preacher may falter over language or use only "simple" arguments, but if he is skilled at a true defence of the Faith and accurate in his doctrine then he is more worthy than any philosopher of the age (IV.6). While the importance of a pious and virtuous life cannot be denied, the example of a godly life is of limited use against a direct attack against the truth of the Word. Only those who have skills in teaching Truth and refuting Error can save those in mortal peril (IV.8-9).

The ideal pastor, according to Chrysostom, must have two personal strengths - being indifferent to the praise (or censure) of the people and the ability to preach well (V.1). Public preaching will always result in the praise or approbation of the speaker. Therefore, ministers need to be skilled in dealing with both so that they may not be dragged down into vanity (V.4). Ministers must therefore devote themselves to study and the practice of preaching, to remove themselves from spheres where praise or censure can drag them down and instead aim for loftier goals (V.5-6).

Chrysostom's points are noetic rather than practical. Those who seek a practical guide from the patristic period would be better reading Augustine's On Christian Teaching (De Doctrina Christiana). It would be also easy to take Chrysostom's advice as a licence for isolationism in ministry, e.g. "We must remain in our closets studying faithfully, lest we go out into the world and meet someone who approves of us and therefore drag us down again." This would be to take his thinking too far. Yet it is interesting to consider his view that a descent into vanity harms not only our souls but those to whom we minister. It is in this context that his warnings should be taken. Also worthy of note is his belief in the power of the Word for those in ordained ministry. Priests and bishops are not held up as Infallible Holy-men because of their ordination vows. Rather, those who accept church office must be recognisable as people of the Word and must be driven back to it again and again in order that they might not fall into temptation and place their sheep in danger. It is a good warning to me personally not to fall back on my theological qualifications as an excuse for spiritual laxity. There is work to be done and battles to be fought!

Chrysostom #1 - A Priesthood of Love

There was an opening line of a song (the composer of which escapes me) that ran, "It's not where you start, it's where you finish." No doubt true for the corporate capitalist or those foolish people who enjoy long-distance running. Yet for pastoral theology the reverse is usually true. This is because it is often abundantly clear what a truly godly minister looks like, if for no other reason than we have the testimony of Scripture (e.g. Titus 1) to guide us. So the pastoral theologian can see his goal in the distance before he begins his journey. Yet there is the question as to where to place the first step. In my reading over the last few months I have been challenged by the writers of other ages as how to approach the task of pastoral ministry. Yet the biggest difference has not been in the practical advice but in the theoretical foundations of ministry. For Bucer, the orders of ministry were how God exercised his Rule. Herbert, on the other hand, preferred the concept of Order, so in all things the minister must act in an orderly fashion to make God's Word clear and so God's Will can be seen to be done. For Chrysostom, ministry is about Love. Chrysostom's first major theological work, On the Priesthood, is really a public apologia for past behaviour. Briefly, Chrysostom had formed a solemn pact with his good friend Basil on hearing that the local church was planning to elevate them to episcopal office. They swore that either they would both accept the wishes of the nominators or they would both refuse. However Chrysostom, in a case of duplicity that would be frowned upon most heavily in our current age, placed Basil in the position of being forced to accept ordination while refusing it himself. Basil was crushed by his friend's betrayal, but Chrysostom insisted that he had acted for the best because it meant that the church had gained a most godly servant while doubting that he himself could not accept the burdens of office. What follows is a rhetorical dialogue between the two men where Chrysostom outlines his vision of what the truly godly minister should be like. After outlining his perception of the events (I.6-8) Chrysostom begins his treatise proper with the thesis that the priesthood was instituted by Christ as an act of love for the church. Peter's threefold declaration of love for Christ (Jn 21:13-17) cannot be understood outside of Jesus' command for Peter to fulfil that love by faithfully feeding the lambs that are being left in his care. While the sheep desire to be fed by the True Shepherd, it is an expression of divine love that they are fed by those in whose care they have been left (II.1-2). Those given then role of priest to the flock are to be those who are so consumed with a love for Jesus that they will tend them faithfully even in the midst of trial and persecution. It is because Chrysostom perceives Basil's love as being so much greater than his own that he felt justified not only in his refusal of ordination but of his tricking his most dear friend so that the church should not lose such a worthy man on account of Chrysostom's unworthiness. Book III concentrates on the temptations and pressures that will undoubtedly fall on those with ministerial responsibility. Vanity (III.1-12), the attacks of the enemies of God (III.13-15) and the stress of caring for widows and virgins (III.16). Chrysostom's point is not to over-spiritualise the priesthood (though some of his comments on the sacraments might seem that way if taken in isolation). Rather, he is being realistic in evaluating the stresses that ordained ministry places on the individual to impress the fact that only those who are truly motivated by Love can hope to exercise this ministry without being crushed by the strain. Before any consideration of the practicalities of ministry come into play the foundation must be set according to the priorities of God. I was surprised by my reading of Chrysostom. Perhaps I shouldn't have been, given his reputation both as a theological communicator and perhaps one of the greatest servants the Church has ever had. His advocating of Love was refreshing, even if I may not be completely on board with his methods of promoting ordination.

Herber #2 - The Pastor in Social Engagement

One of the difficulties of doing historical theology is understanding the social world of those with whom we engage. Much time is taken by researchers wresting with what theologians in former time understood by grand theological concepts such as Essence, Being, Reconciliation, and Incarnation. The depths to which ancient minds relied upon the accepted wisdom of the ancient Greeks or formed new paths through the Scriptural evidence is thoroughly probed. Other circumstances of their lives (manners, customs, politics, social conventions, food, etc) form the general background - enough to fill an amusing volume to be consumed during a beachside holiday, but rarely poignant to the big issues. As I come to this second, and final, post on George Herbert I think I have realised that the reverse is more often true in the realm of pastoral theology. The so-called Big Ideas are more often assumed by those writing (or passed over briefly) so that they can get to the main game of the practicalities of leading the flock in godliness. For our contemporary writers their culture is our culture and we don't give it much consideration. However, when a work like The Country Parson comes into our sphere our distance from the social world of the writer can put us at a serious disadvantage and so easily lead us into a quick judgmentalism. Such an attitude would be easy to take regarding the second half of Herbert's work, in which he considers the pastor's role in the contemporary social fabric. Herbert maintains that the country parson serves not only as spiritual pastor but as judge and doctor to those in his parish, prepared at all times to administer both spiritual and temporal remedies (XXIII). He is also to take a social survey of the lives of those in his parish, even going so far as to instruct his parishioners as to how their grown-up children should conduct themselves in worldly affairs (XXXII). He should also take an active role in local customs and festivals (if they are not spiritually abhorrent) of which his local people are fond (XXXV). If the modern pastor followed all such advice he would probably find himself with a lawsuit, a broken nose, and an aching posterior from watching endless games of Rugby League. Yet in Herbert's social context such advice was key in expressing a key Christian pastoral maxim - Care for the Whole Person. It is clear from the New Testament that ministry does not stop at the Word but it includes attention to what I like to call Christian Care. It is belief that ministry must care for the whole person and not merely body or soul that underpins Acts 6:1-6. Here spiritual and temporal ministry are not divorced but in fact work together. Other passages such as 1 Timothy 5 show that a minister is not only interested in the spiritual state of his congregation but in how their faith becomes applied to their life circumstances. The flock must not be left to care for themselves when there is a dire need. This, I believe, underpins Herbert's thinking at this point in his work. What now may appear to us as being presumptive meddling in the lives of others was in Herbert's context a healthy pattern of social engagement in an agricultural society where "basic services" like healthcare and access to justice were luxuries. The question is now how do pastors in the 21st Century set up healthy patterns of social engagement with their parishes as a whole? As Western society moves towards a Post-Christian status the temptation has been to retreat, to build an evangelical Maginot Line and hope for the best. But the Panzers are coming, and if we take Herbert seriously, the parson must take a firm stand in these matters, rebuking even the best in his cure, with no fear of the ridicule that comes with the office any yet holding himself in a way that makes it difficult for contempt to be shown to him (XXVIII). Challenging words. I must say that, despite Herbert's superior literary tone and his lack of clear theological reasoning, I found The Country Parson to be a stimulating read. Herbert wishes those who undertake ministry to be internally focused, but instead actively engaged with the outside world while conducting his spiritual duties in an ordered way that focuses attention on the work of Christ. In truth, I do not see the seeds of Latitudinarianism sown through this work, and it now makes more sense to me why someone like Baxter held up Herbert for high praise despite obvious differences in churchmanship. In order to get the best out of Herbert, I believe it is right to focus on the Principles rather than the Practices, as he wrote in rather unusual times. It is right to be charitable with Herbert as he was a man of genuine piety. This is not to say that his work is perfect, and if I was to go into a more detailed analysis of his theses I could raise strong objections. However, I believe that even modern evangelicals should not dismiss The Country Parson too quickly as being irrelevant or spiritually corrupt. Next Time: I know that I had said that I would move from here to the thought of Richard Baxter, but reading Herbert has led me to take a short detour. It was clear from Herbert's work that he was drawing on a rich theological heritage in shaping his pastoral views that I had not yet considered. So, before going on to Baxter, I will take two weeks to look at John Chrysostom's On the Priesthood. It will be a delight for me to get back to the Patristics (and a justification for the purchase of the full ANF and NPNF volumes) and I hope my readers will enjoy the journey with me. P.S. My blog stats inform me that I have been getting a number of reads from countries where I'm sure I know nobody, including a sizable chunk of people from Eastern Europe. If you do happen to live a fair way from Australia and you are reading my imperfect musings please let me know who you are and how you came to find this blog. If I know who you are I can be more engaging in my manner.

Herbert #1 - Good Order in All Things

A rather large shadow looms across Anglican pastoral theology in the form of the saintly George Herbert. A remarkable shadow, given that Herbert lasted only three years in pastoral ministry and gained little influence before illness took him to an early grave and leaving behind a large body of work unpublished. Yet following the publication of his poetry and his pastoral work The Country Parson he became a remarkably unifying figure in the 16th Century English church, being admired by both Traditionalists and Puritans. Richard Baxter (of whom more later) was a particular fan, and more noteworthy given obvious differences in churchmanship and theological method.

So, what to do about "the shadow"? One way to deal with it is to cast it aside, as advocated by contemporary English cleric Justin Lewis-Anthony. In Lewis-Anthony's view Herbert's pastoral methodology contributed to an ongoing Latitudinarian spirit in the English church that simply won't cut it in today's world. The pastor is reduced to being "the nice guy" with attention given to jumping through procedural hoops or meeting communal expectations that have nothing to do with the teaching of Scripture. Accordingly, we need to toss the outdated models and allow pastors to take a much more radical stance with respect to their roles. As an Australian cleric (and one from Sydney, no less) who does not have the burden of working for an "Established Church" this thesis resonates only slightly with my own experience, but I can see the point being made.

But is this the only option for the Evangelical with respect to our Herbertian heritage? It is true that Herbert set a very high bar with respect for the proper administration of pastoral duties (the fact that he had several curates to assist him in what was a rather small parish may account for this). Trying to take Herbert's work as an Official Rulebook would undoubtedly contribute to both pastoral burnout and the distraction from evangelical work that Lewis-Anthony laments. It is also worth noting that Herbert's work is very much of its time. It is a Practical Guide rather than a Theological Exposition. This is regrettable as exegetical holes are rather easy to spot given that Herbert takes a moderately "high" view of the priesthood and begins his work from the assumption of the priest as Jesus' Deputy (which had not been the view of Bucer). Herberts practical instructions are rather quaint and there are several LOL moments (his views on fasting and Bodily Obstructions are most giggleworthy).

Yet there is no doubt that Herbert was a man of genuine piety with much that can teach the modern student. His work is full of Scripture and he has a love of the task of catechism that puts most modern evangelicals to shame. He rejects empty ceremony as being out of step with the good of the people but is equally critical of slovenliness in worship. In everything in the church there is to be Good Order so that nothing can hinder either the worship or learning of those under a minister's care. This is not only in formal worship, but in the pastor's whole way of life. Nothing is to be done thoughtlessly but instead with decent care and good reason. How unlike modern Sydney Anglicanism...

Everyone loves those Saturday mornings where the pace of life can slow right down, the newspapers can be strewn all over the bed, and pyjamas are not shed until lunchtime. This is healthy. But Sunday is not Saturday. When we need to be about the Lord's business we should have a different mindset. Too often we don't. Take, for example, the lack of urgency to solve The Liturgy Problem. Every week our services shamble from Welcome to Dismissal with no uniformity or coherence. We have become Methodists without a Method. We've all read the books, so we're convinced about the importance of having theologically solid structures for communal worship. There is just no impetus to make it so.

But I'm getting too far ahead of myself. Why don't we start with something simple - cleaning up the front of the church! Have a good, hard look at the end of your rainshelter where the Bible reading/teaching/praying happens. Then look at all the unnecessary clutter that is up there - music folders, microphone stands, unused chairs, etc. What doesn't need to be there? What can go into a cupboard (or the bin)? At least if we start with putting our Physical Space in order there might develop a greater enthusiasm for order in other areas...

Bucer #5 - Constant Vigilence

These past few months have seen me attempting to come to grips with the reality of maintaining a garden. A brief flick through a horticultural magazine might lead you to believe that perfect lawns and flower beds can be maintained with the greatest of ease. A simple stroll through the garden once a day to assure yourself that everything is going well, stopping occasionally to pull out the odd weed, is all that is necessary.

Utter bollocks!

As I have been finding out, gardening is heartbreaking and backbreaking work. Lawns need constant mowing, soil needs digging and fertilizing, plants watering, and so forth. And even after all that, your plants may wither and die due to an unexpected heatwave. Rewarding labour, undoubtedly. But the true horticulturalist has precious little time to 'stop and smell the roses'. Gardens don't look after themselves.

Neither do sheep, according to our old chum Martin Bucer. You would be forgiven for thinking, following the last two weeks, that a pastor's duties are restricted to putting out forest fires wherever they might break out in the congregation. Yet, strangely, those whom Bucer designates as the "strong and healthy sheep" need as much attention as the rest. For, if the shepherd is caught unawares, mangy or false sheep might infiltrate and infect the flock. So even those whose faith seems as solid as a rock need care and attention to prevent them from falling under evil influences. Shepherds take the She'll Be Right approach at their peril.

So often in ministry we'll draw up the Archery Target diagram of church growth. You know the one - Gospel Partners in the centre, Members in the next level out, Attenders after that, and so on. The theory is that you need to move everyone one level closer inwards to build up the number of Partners at your disposal to help run your ministry programs and outreach. What they often fail to tell you is that those in the middle won't stay there unless you protect them. So the Gospel-Minded Minister might focus all his attention on seeking the Lost or Wounded in the belief that he has a secure communal base who have "got his back". Then the wolves get in and destroy the flock and everything falls in a heap.

This last section of Bucer has challenged me to remain attentive to those whom I would have otherwise have classified as Able To Look After Themselves. I shouldn't have been surprised; I have seen too many close friends fall away from what seemed like secure positions. I need to not take my Partners for granted. God has given me them to care for as much as those on the Outskirts. Once more, my arrogance comes in for a severe rebuke.

Summing up, I think Martin Bucer's book has been one of the most helpful books on pastoral care that I have read. It is not an exhaustive theological examination, but rather a practical handbook for those considering the shape and priorities of gospel ministry. As such, some of his points are able to be quibbled over, but there is no doubt that at the centre is a reliance on the Biblical patterns for ministry and a desire to apply them afresh for a church in Rebirth mode. I have made extensive use of it in preparing studies for my Youth Ministry Leaders and I will undoubtedly return to it again in the future.

Next up: George Herbert!

Bucer #4 - The Pastor as Agricultural Vet

At the tender age of 16 (in accordance with school practice at the time) I completed a week's worth of Work Experience. My employer of choice was a veterinary surgeon located an arduous 5 minute walk from my place of residence. Being of a generally kindly disposition towards animals in general, I thought that the life of a vet would not be such a bad path. At the end of the week I took a rather different view. While it was undeniably a fun experience, my observations reluctantly led me to the conclusion that the life of a vet consisted of a neverending line of cats for desexing interspersed with having one's fingers savaged by disgruntled ferrets. On the plus side, I learned that vets can demand that their Experiencees bring them cake on Fridays.

As Bucer begins to address the tasks of the pastor of Christian souls he takes his lead from Ezekiel 34:16:

I will search for the lost and bring back the strays. I will bind up the injured and strengthen the weak, and the sleek and the strong I will watch over and shepherd with justice.

It appears, therefore, that despite my earlier reluctance I have been pressed into service as a sort of spiritual vet, caring for the flock of God in their various ailments and distresses. I am pleased to note, however, that castration is not a key task laid out by Scripture. Also, so far, cake has been plentiful.

Bucer then extemporises on the sheep who need particular attention and what the carer of souls should do for each.

The "lost sheep" are those who in truth belong to Christ but have yet to hear his voice. The pastor is therefore to preach the Word to all people so that they may hear and be compelled to join the flock. Bucer sets this down as a most urgent task to be taken to all people, no matter how corrupt a life they may lead. While conversions must never be forced, the proclaiming of Christ as Lord must be insistent so that the world may not doubt the urgency.

The "stray sheep" are those who have been part of God's flock but have "wandered off", no longer gathering with the Church. This may occur through the impact of false teaching or a general attachment to the world. In either case, the pastor is to deal with these like the lost sheep, urging them to return to their true shepherd. The pastor is not to simply "give up" because such a break in communion does not mean permanent apostasy. On the contrary, those who once knew Christ should be even more diligently urged to return to Him.

The "injured sheep" are those who remain in communion with other Christians but in their lives have fallen into open sin. Bucer devotes almost a third of his book to these particular sheep, a much larger section than any other, suggesting that he saw this as a difficult area that needed to be addressed carefully. He takes a view of the process of Repentance that many in our modern churches would find challenging. Of particular note is his insistence on the proper use of penance for those who have been involved in gross public sin. Where rebellion has been of such a nature as to fracture communion and cause dishonour to be brought on the name of Christ, Bucer states that it is insufficient for the reprobate to simply say, "I'm sorry, I won't do it again." Instead, he maintains that all those who are truly of Christ should submit gladly to the chastisement prescribed by pastors and rulers, including exclusion for a time from the Lord's Supper, not only so sin would be mortified in their own flesh but so that all would have assurance of the sincerity of the repentance and so the sinner would be able to be welcomed into fellowship again with confidence. In contrast to contemporary popular opinion, Bucer charges that a major failing of Rome was that it did not institute the practice of penance consistently, passing over them with indulgences and other ritualistic evasions.

Bucer is very committed to penance as a biblically mandated practice (displaying his Lutheran roots) in a way that seems a little draconian to modern readers. I can't make up my mind whether he is an Idealist or whether the stricter ministrations of the Reformers did indeed produce congregations who were more willing to submit to the chastisement of their elders. At a Ministry Development day within the last week a senior minister of a large local parish was reflecting on how difficult it is to bring modern Christians under any sort of discipline, as when issues of personal conduct are raised there is nothing stopping them from getting in a huff and taking their business elsewhere. Perhaps the approaching season of Lent is a good time to raise the subject of Christian discipline with our congregations. It is possible that a lax approach in modern times to self-discipline and examination has made communal discipline harder to accept. Thoughts?

Finally, the "weak sheep" are those who remain in the fellowship but have their commitment to Christ tested by the trials of the world or are inconsistent in the application of the Word to their daily lives. These sheep, states Bucer, require encouragement, having their attention drawn back to the grace of Christ to overcome the power of the world. Such sheep are not to be submitted to an inquisition of their faith, which would be discouraging, but should instead be led to submit more and more to the gracious Truth laid down in Scripture for their benefit.

Whew, some heavy stuff this week. The last post on Bucer coming soon...

Bucer #3 - Who Does the Dirty Work?

One of the more interesting aspects of historical theology is having to deal with your subject's socio-cultural biases. This can be a little unnerving when you're not prepared for it. As I started reading the pastoral theology of Martin Bucer I believe I was guilty of treating him as a slightly eccentric contemporary. His language was a tad archaic, sure, but he was paying due care to his use of Scripture and it felt as though we were developing an understanding of each other. For the first 80 pages or so it felt like a book that could have been written yesterday...well, maybe not yesterday, but you get my point.

Then dear old Martin decided to make a quick handbrake turn. Actually, that feels as though I'm blaming him, when it was really me who should have remembered that he was writing in the early 16th Century and his views on the world might not be quite the same as mine...

Yes, it's that dear old chestnut "Church & State". Not surprisingly (given his context) Bucer is all for the Godly Prince giving a leg-up to the Church whenever they are having problems keeping their sheep in the pen [more on the pastoral analogies of sheep next week]. In fact, Bucer feels that it is the duty of the godly ruler to see that those who have professed faith in Christ, and have thus become members of the Church, are not lax in their duties and professions of faith. Not that Bucer wants to use state troops to force conversions; yet he does think that those who do 'belong' to the Church should be compelled (if necessary) to follow the Church's requirements and judgments. If the heathen rulers have used force in order to pressure Christian people into compromising their wholehearted devotion to Jesus, then why should not the godly ruler use the same force to ensure that the godly ends of the Church can be promoted? Bucer does not say how he can have confidence that all professions of faith will be genuine when a threat of state force exists. Nor does he outline the extent to which 'compulsion' may be taken by the godly ruler without compromising the Gospel.

I don't propose to do a full political deconstruction of Bucer's position - other blogs exist that deal much better with the socio-political impacts of the Gospel than I can. While I will probably always have a soft spot for the Godly Ruler Theory (Alfred The Great is a personal Christian Superhero) plenty of fine theologians (e.g. Haurwas, O'Donovan) have discussed the application of appropriate eschatology when defining the limits of State co-operation with Gospel work. Simply put, the message of the New Testament is, "Give the State what can reasonably be considered due. Do your best to live in peace with authorities. Take whatever 'rights' you can, but don't expect Government to give you special treatment." It's less than I would like, but then I occasionally get the urge to crush opponents like beetles.

These days evangelical Christians are more-or-less happy to have the State out of their hair. While I might be tempted to call up Constable Plod if too many of my flock skip church on Sunday, I know that there are good reasons why it should remain my problem. Of course, modern evangelicals have a lot of problems with direct confrontation. There are probably not a few pastors out there who wouldn't mind a few Hired Goons in a box marked "Break Glass In Case Of Emergency" in their office. It feels unnatural to get ecclesiastical hands dirty.

While cultural circumstances have changed dramatically in the last 400 years, I still think that I can take away some positive points from Bucer on congregational discipline. First, it is not ungodly for pastors to expect standards of their congregation. It's not only a matter of common curtesy but it is for the sake of everybody's spiritual health. Christian love dictates that we place others before ourselves, always being ready to serve. Those who are lax in this regard should be made to see the error of their ways in a loving way. Second, there is nothing inherently godly in 'beating about the bush'. Discipline matters should not be filtered through subordinates. This is an area in which the shepherd must Lead, even though the sheep may bite. Third, despite what Bucer may have thought, Christian discipline must not adopt the standards of the world wholesale. There can be a temptation in some modern pastoral books to treat Church administration and discipline along lines common in corporate culture. Our discipline needs to be much more gracious than this. It does not mean that we back off the seriousness, but doors for true repentence must always be left open.