“I’m Gonna Sit Right Down and Write Myself a Letter”

A longtime friend and colleague called last week. “Dave,” he began (calling me Dave vs. David is a clue our friendship is of forty years or more), “I just need a listening ear.”

“Go right ahead,” I said. 

“Here’s what’s happening out here. I’m driving back to the church right now from a visit. A woman was upset over something I said. She talked and I listened. I affirmed several things she said and I clarified a few things I felt she may have misheard or misunderstood…in that order. I asked her, ‘I wonder what life experiences you’ve had –what you’ve seen, heard, and read – that shaped how you heard what I said?’ I acknowledged my own influences. She thanked me for taking the time to visit. I thanked her for trusting our relationship could bear such a candid conversation.”

He continued. “Yesterday, two church leaders came to my office. They cautioned me about proceeding with a capital campaign to expand our sanctuary. They’re concerned about the uncertain economy dampening members’ willingness to give. I assured them I understood their concern, then shared my reasons for having confidence in proceeding. They thanked me for hearing them out. I thanked them for their longtime commitment to the church and knowing they could level with me about their concerns.”

He wasn’t done yet. “Now I’m headed back to the church to get my stuff for the first of two funerals I have this week. One is this afternoon. The other is tomorrow.”

There was more. “I also wrote an article this week for our newsletter. I needed to say something about Minneapolis, the protests, and the killing of Alex Pretti and Renee Good. I shared a draft with my staff. One is worried I said too much – was pushing the envelope. Another said, ‘I don’t think you’re saying enough.’  A third said, ‘I don’t think you’re saying anything.’ The thing is, they represent my congregation (which he characterizes as a purple church in a red state). I have people who are upset and angry at what’s happening and other people who are upset and angry at those people for being upset and angry.”

I started to interject something when he added, “And last night, T. (his wife) came to where I was working on one of the funerals and said, ‘I need you to take the dog to the groomer tomorrow.’ When I told her, ‘I just can’t’ she gave me the stink eye. And I still have a sermon to preach this Sunday.” 

I was about to finally say something when he said, “Dave, gotta go. Thanks for listenin’.”

Call Ended appeared on my phone.

I smiled and said “Glad to help” out loud to no one.   

I’ll save my thoughts for him until he calls me back, but a portion of what I’ll share I share now with you. Namely, I understand everything he said about the pace of ministry, the pressure moments intermingled with the precious ones, and being pulled this way and that by people urging/demanding us to Say more! while others warn/threaten us to Say less! Any minister who strives daily to do, be, and say what is good, right, and true rather than merely mailing it in and steering clear of anything the least bit demanding, anything calling for creativity or inviting potential conflict, understands. Men and women who are trying, God help us, to fulfill a minister’s four-fold calling to be pastor/preacher/priest/prophet, keeping all four plates spinning without ignoring or breaking any of them, the church, our families, or ourselves understands.

As for the woman troubled by what he said, I have a digital file in my computer titled Correspondence. It’s content? Letters I wrote to people who shared with me in person, by email, letter, or text something I said or wrote they appreciated, didn’t understand, disagreed with, or were upset by. If someone took the time to communicate to me about something I said, thereby evidencing they had listened to me, I returned the compliment by listening to them and writing a response. My Correspondence file from Lexington Central Christian alone has 255 letters alphabetized by last name and dated. Some last names are single pieces of correspondence. Others I created files for – so numerous were our communications.

My colleague’s call reminded me of a letter in which my correspondent, for whom I have immense respect to this day, asked me about my way of grappling with contentious social justice issues. I wrote:

Dear X,

You know the precarious perch I sit in as I strive to minister to a congregation of people with “not necessarily complementary” worldviews. One of those areas, of course, is their attitude towards how to proclaim the call to justice and the implications of that call for the living of our lives.

At Central, when it comes to the sphere of justice, there are members for whom anything I say or write is too much and members for whom anything I say or write is not enough. I hear from both of them. I could alienate either of them if I chose to do so. I could alienate those to the “right” by increasing the tone, tenor, volume and frequency of the call to do justice and spelling out exactly what they need to do/ must do to be faithful to that call. Likewise, I could alienate those to the “left” by decreasing, minimizing, or muting all of the above. 

You’ve observed me long enough now to see how I navigate these waters (for better or worse). In my preaching, worship leadership, and writing, I strive to honor the lectionary passages for the day/season by proclaiming the gospel call to justice and righteousness as they surface in my study of the week’s Scripture and naming the connection between biblical themes/teachings and things that are happening today. My broad definition of the prophetic role is proclaiming the relevance of God’s Word to our world. I usually leave it to hearers/readers to make specific application of the gospel call to the ongoing events in their lives/our society.  Again, some wish I would be very specific and spell out exactly what to do while others wish I wouldn’t have broached the subject in the first place  

This pattern I’ve chosen over the years of proclaiming the call to justice, naming the connections, and entrusting the specifics of implementation to hearers (individually and together) dates back to a story I heard a long time ago about an exchange between the late Rev. Dr. William Sloane Coffin, noted social activist and Chaplain at Yale, and Henry Kissinger. In the tumult of the 60s/70s, Coffin said to Kissinger, “My job is to proclaim, ‘Let justice roll down like waters and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream,’ and your job, sir, is to figure out the irrigation system!” I’m no Bill Coffin, of course, but I have strived to proclaim the call to justice and entrust the specifications of the irrigation system to those who hear me (or hear the advocacy of those who hear me). I, of course, do what I choose to do on my own and in concert with others to enact in specific ways the call to do justice. But yet again, some wish I would be very specific in spelling out exactly what to do to construct the irrigation system. I.e., “David, tell me what to do (and even more so, Tell them what to do! Namely, what I’m doing).” Others wish I wouldn’t even quote Micah 6:8 or Amos 5:24 or Luke 4:18ff to begin with. I.e., “Don’t tell me what to do. And don’t tell me what Micah, Amos, or Jesus says to do, either!” Such is the place from which I operate.

To be clear, my primary thought is not to chart the path of least resistance. There isn’t one unless I alienate and run off everybody to the right or left. Then I could just “preach to the choir.” Frankly, there are some folks to the “right” and “left” who wouldn’t mind a bit if I did run off those of contrasting worldviews (“To hell with ‘em!”), but I’m not into consigning folks to hell for not believing/acting just like me. I like the challenge of trying to hold diverse folks together. I want to influence rather than irritate and alienate people (an objective I learned from United Methodist pastor Rev. Adam Hamilton) and I can’t influence people if I run them off or they walk away. Some will anyway. And do. I’ve never been able to please everybody. But when I lay my head down at night, I ask myself if I’ve done my best to honor God. Lord knows, I’m not always successful. But God is much more merciful than some of God’s children.       

Blessings, X, and thank you for the way you so faithfully live out God’s call in your life!

In Christ, David

Jennie and I went to church this past Sunday at a colleague’s congregation. He came over to speak to us before worship began. I sensed a weariness. The passage he preached from was Micah 6:1-8: “He has told you, O mortal, what is good, and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice and to love kindness and to walk humbly with your God?” He is blessed with a demeanor that exudes his pastoral heart and speaks in a tone of voice that is gentle and genuine. He unpacked the verses’ key words of justice, kindness, and humility in a way that was exegetically and theologically sound, carefully spoken, and, given the goings-on in our nation these days, eminently relevant. He didn’t name any names in his sermon other than Micah and Jesus. And he didn’t have to. He trusted he was speaking to adults who could and would make the connection and application of justice, kindness, and humility to current events. Or not. Our choice. It was a pastorally, priestly, prophetically, and warmly preached word on a cold Sunday morning. 

In the receiving line as we shook hands and gave each other a quick hug, I said into his ear, “Bear up, my brother, and may you be borne up. I’m praying with and for you.” Jennie and I then went out for lunch…at a Mexican restaurant.

Now I need to write two colleagues notes of appreciation for their ministries.