Random thoughts on "I don't want to be a busy pastor"


 


Have recently been re-reading (slowly) Eugene Peterson's "The Contemplative Pastor: Returning to the art of spiritual direction".

A key reason for re-reading is that it has probably been 20 years since I first read this book, and my hope is that over the years, my perspective on life and ministry would have grown deeper. New experiences and growth in perspectives(s) I think often bring helpful insights to good books.

And now, I also have the Logos version of the book so it's a fresh interesting way of interactive reading (not just the printed paper, but reading on a handheld device and on a PC).

Been re-reading a few times his chapter on "The Unbusy Pastor".

I think I cannot help but be busy as that is a part of who I am. But I have been for a few weeks now consciously doing my best to avoid describing myself or my schedule and activities as "busy". It's probably just "semantics" and splitting hairs but I do think that either not using the term "busy" or trying to redefine "busy" in my life does help.

How does it help? 

For one thing, it's countering the mindset and wrong assumptions of the importance of being "busy". Peterson puts it this way ...

   I am busy because I am vain. I want to appear important. Significant. What better way than to be busy? The incredible hours, the crowded schedule, and the heavy demands on my time are proof to myself—and to all who will notice—that I am important.

That is a real temptation - wanting to appear to be important, and it is unhealthy. In addition, if I really am busy with activities (as opposed to just pretending to be busy), then my lifestyle would be inadvertently focused on "works" and not grace.

Peterson's chapter subtitle is a question I have been pondering as to its theological and practical implications in my life and ministry. The question is: 

How can I persuade a person to live by faith and not by works if I have to juggle my schedule constantly to make everything fit into place?

He asks a very important question, and I like how he answers his own question. 

If I’m not busy making my mark in the world or doing what everyone expects me to do, what do I do? What is my proper work? What does it mean to be a pastor? If no one asked me to do anything, what would I do?

Three things.

I can be a pastor who prays. I want to cultivate my relationship with God. I want all of life to be intimate—sometimes consciously, sometimes unconsciously—with the God who made, directs, and loves me. .... (he elaborates more on this)

And he goes on to use a word that I like that replaces "busy" and still does not end up with the opposite effect of being lazy. 

I know I can’t be busy and pray at the same time. I can be active and pray; I can work and pray; but I cannot be busy and pray

It has been very refreshing when I "force myself" to pause from being "busy" and set aside time for more deliberate and focused prayer. It's not just spiritually helpful, and theologically sound, but practical.

He continues ...

I cannot be inwardly rushed, distracted, or dispersed. In order to pray I have to be paying more attention to God than to what people are saying to me; to God than to my clamoring ego. Usually, for that to happen there must be a deliberate withdrawal from the noise of the day, a disciplined detachment from the insatiable self.

The second thing he writes is: I can be a pastor who preaches

One of the insights and convictions he writes on preaching is something I can identify with as that is also my deep conviction. 

I need a drenching in Scripture; I require an immersion in biblical studies. I need reflective hours over the pages of Scripture as well as personal struggles with the meaning of Scripture. That takes far more time than it takes to prepare a sermon.

The third thing he writes about what a pastor should focus on is: I can be a pastor who listens.

Here are some challenging and insightful words from Peterson. 

Pastoral listening requires unhurried leisure, even if it’s only for five minutes. Leisure is a quality of spirit, not a quantity of time. Only in that ambiance of leisure do persons know they are listened to with absolute seriousness, treated with dignity and importance. Speaking to people does not have the same personal intensity as listening to them. The question I put to myself is not “How many people have you spoken to about Christ this week?” but “How many people have you listened to in Christ this week?” The number of persons listened to must necessarily be less than the number spoken to. Listening to a story always takes more time than delivering a message, so I must discard my compulsion to count, to compile the statistics that will justify my existence.

I can’t listen if I’m busy. When my schedule is crowded, I’m not free to listen: I have to keep my next appointment; I have to get to the next meeting. But if I provide margins to my day, there is ample time to listen.

It is a hard read because I am not a naturally good listener. I can get quite easily distracted by other things happening around me. This is especially the case on Sundays. Too many people to talk to, and a false sense of guilt that when I actually do take the time to listen to one person, I miss checking up on another. 

But I know there are practical things I can do (and have been trying to do regularly) - set aside (schedule) time to listen. I think this is a good extension of Peterson's advice to "provide margins to my day so there is ample time to listen".

I don't want to be a busy pastor. I want to be an active pastor who focuses on the essential work of a pastor.  Is the core just prayer, preaching, and listening? I am not certain, but it is definitely a good three to focus on. 


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