I recently wrote this article for a 2x/month newsletter for pastors in our network in Indiana. This was my second pass at the article. It kind of gives a look into my brain and heart of what it means to be a pastor… I title I loathe to be called. That’s why my title doesn’t have the term in it. Yes, I can still preform weddings and funerals, but let’s keep that between us. 😉

Here’s the article.

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I think one of the hardest parts about my call is the title.

“Pastor.”

The word doesn’t sit well with me.
It never really has.
I fully realize it’s my issue.
But, I just don’t like it.

So, I did some digging. Turns out that our English form of the word pastor comes from the Latin pascere which translates more literally as “to feed or to graze.” Perhaps an appropriate metaphor for the shepherd analogy of what my role includes… perhaps also a cause for the issue at hand.

When I was asked to write an article on the issue of people “not feeling fed” and how we handle it at Crosspoint, I had a completely different starting point in mind that this understanding of the call that many of us hold dear to our hearts.

At Crosspoint, we tend to answer the issue of not being fed with the question: “Where are you serving?” We’ve found in our short history that most people aren’t looking to be preached at, force fed rules, and told how much money they should give to the church. We’re finding that people are looking for genuine community and that happens best when people are working, getting their hands dirty, and seeing change happen together.

So we use the issue of a person “not feeling fed” (because really that’s what it is… a feeling) as a recruitment tool.
I know it sounds cold, calculated even, but:

They get plugged in.
They build some relationship.
They find Jesus in what they do.
They feel fed.

Article done.

But, you know the old adage, “you can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make it drink?” Or in shepherd terms, “you can lead a flock to pasture, but you can’t make them eat.” Doesn’t that apply here as well?

You can give the people food (truth) but they have to make the decision what to do with it. I once heard a pastor say that listening to sermons was like eating catfish… you have to pull out the bones to get at the meat. The listener has to work at being fed much like the body of a sheep has to process the grass it eats to gain nourishment.

So, yes, there is a part to be done by the listener. And, perhaps many times this is where the issue lies. There are surely many people in our seats every weekend that don’t do the proper “digestion” of what they’re soaking in.
even more to it than that.

I think we (the pastors) have done ourselves a disservice for years now with the self-projected expectations that we’re supposed to have it all together – that we (the pastors) are supposed to have all the answers and that everyone sitting in the pews expect us to have them. Maybe sometimes they do. But, I would venture to say that most people in this post-modern culture we live in today aren’t looking for you (the pastor) to spell it all out for them. They’re looking for ways to explore honestly at their own pace. They’re looking for truth and how it applies to their lives. They’re looking for God.

This is where I suspect our self-expectations come in.

If I take my car to the mechanic, I expect that they know how to fix that thump and whistle coming from under my hood.

If I go out to eat, I’d be pretty annoyed if my server handed me microwaved mac and cheese.

Likewise, we do need to have some expertise in our areas of ministry but we cannot have all of the answers. It’s just not possible.

Here’s what I’m learning about my job as worship leader:

I do not have it all together.
I will make mistakes.
And, I can only give my best.
Any higher expectations tread on perfectionism and arguably idolatry of the service over worship of God.

So, I think that perhaps the answer to the issue of the crowd being fed does in fact, lie within us.
The pastors.

Last October I had the opportunity to attend a conference for worship pastors, leaders, singers, musicians, artists that was centered on the exploration of why we sing. The entire conference had that question posed in every session, seminar, and discussion group. As I came out of the weekend, I had this renewed sense of excitement about what I do and why I do it.

• I sing because I always have been.
• 
I sing because He cares about me.
• 
I sing because I’ve been rescued for relationship.
• I sing because I don’t know what else to do.
• 
I sing for eternity.

That’s why I sing. And wrapped up in those seemingly simple statements are these complex back-stories, and pains, and bad choices, and joys, and excitements, and fears that cause my call to be realized as it has been.

To be a pastor.
To lead to pasture.
To lead to water.
To lead.
Not to feed.

But there are all kinds of reasons that everyone else sings.

Maybe they sing because they feel like they’re supposed to.
Maybe the sing because if they do it long enough, then they might start to feel something.
Maybe they want to sing.
Or maybe, they’ve been so burned that they don’t want to sing at all.

And, this is why I think we have a sacred task set in front of us.
As worship leaders and in worship specifically.

So I approach my job with these things in mind.
• It’s not about me.
• People sing for all different kinds of reasons.
• God hasn’t given up on any of us.
• There’s something REALLY big going on here… and I GET to be a part of it.
• It’s my job to put great, sacred words on people’s lips (perhaps another article in itself).

Psalm 71:23 is one of my favorite verses right now.
My lips will shout for joy
when I sing praise to you—
I, whom you have redeemed. (NIV, ©1984)

You can almost feel the sense of awe and duty in that verse.
It’s the kind of duty that you understand when you’re redeemed.
When you’re called out.
There’s emotion there.

This is how I believe we (the pastors) should approach our calls.
As the redeemed.
Broken but restored.
Shining light but still pursuing.
Leading to water and drinking ourselves.
Overseeing in the pasture but digesting our own.

I still don’t like the term pastor because of what it makes me believe about myself.
But, the call to lead is one that each of us has had placed on our hearts.

So, may we all come to find the balance in our calls between leading and feeding.
May we all seek honestly and openly to help call up the masses.
And, may we come to see that we are redeemed.

And, that’s why we sing.

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PJT