Don't Call Me That

If you look at our website, brochure, business cards, etc, you will see that word behind my name.

Pastor.

Despite all the title-wrangling that's gone on with the emerging church movement, I think one title that has stayed fairly well intact is the word Pastor.

Assuming we even knew what it meant to begin with.

But a pastor is a shepherd, right? In Latin it's the same word. A pastor works in the pasture, shepherding sheep. Of course Jesus is the great high shepherd, or head shepherd, thus the Head Pastor. (Oops. We've been calling certain people "Head Pastor", haven't we?) But Paul and other apostles make it clear that God has designated some to lead in this shepherding kind of way, and we do so under the leadership of the Head Shepherd.

Yesterday I caught a clip of Hank Hanegraaff on the Bible Answer Man radio show, where he was talking about the importance of "protecting the pulpit." Maybe that's why pastors grip it so hard when their preaching gets emphatic... they're protecting it. I actually got images of bullet-proof mylar and security guards on either side, lest anyone should take a shot at the holy lectern. Would you take a bullet for the pulpit?

I'm not saying good ole' Hank is all wet. If you have been entrusted with the role to disseminate God's truth to the community of believers, people will tend to trust whom you trust as well. And that is implied when the pastor invites someone else to speak at the pulpit.

So in essence it's an issue of stewardship. But the problem is, there's something about that "protecting the pulpit" attitude that threatens to swing toward arrogance and vainglory. As if we all as believers are called to be miniature Christs, but pastors are the XL minis. And as in any case of security (think national security, especially if you're a Democrat,) it is easy to secure something so well that you strangle it. (Your neck is in danger, sir! Here, let me protect it snugly with my two hands! Tighter now...)

The truth is that there are many types of pastors. God knows every community of believers is different, and needs a different brand of leader. Some really do need a solid theological expert who can humbly but boldly lift the group to the next level of understanding. But to presume that this is the primary type, or worse, the only type, is foolish.

How do I know? For one, because God called me to do it. Yes, I know a few things, and I like to teach. But I am seriously unqualified to be the ordained protector of the sacred podium.

It is false images like that that spring to mind when people call me "Pastor".

Mark Driscoll, in his autobiographical book Confessions of a Reformission Rev, writes about an experience early on in his church-planting ministry, when a young man calls him in the middle of the night, distraught about his inability to give up masturbating. After Driscoll gives him some very crude, direct, and groggy advice, the young man says, "Alright. Thanks, Pastor Mark." Driscoll recalls this as the first time he was ever called Pastor, and it made an impact on him.

I get called Pastor sometimes, but I usually ask people not to. It may be the title on my card, but you don't hear people getting called "Sales Representative Tim", or "C.E.O. Warren".

I think God has called me to be the type of pastor that holds the pulpit loosely, that stands up for what God has given me, but also empowers the gifts of others. I think there's a lot of community to be had in the process of opening things up, and gently enabling the harmony of voices that God intended when he gave us such a beautiful array of gifts. And this is not necessarily the first thing people think of when they call me Pastor.

Just "Ryan" will be fine, thanks.