Yes, but I'm not Your Pastor

Warning: If you are not a pastor, or somehow involved in thinking about religious vocational identity, this may be a meaningless rant and for that I am sorry. More about fun stuff later.

As I have discussed, in the past, being a pastor is a challenging balancing act between vocation and identity. I am a pastor, and I work as a pastor. And those two truths are interlinked in myriad of ways. But I've faced a strange conundrum in reconciling these two realities recently, when I've been asked, in a variety of contexts, how I can possibly reconcile my pastoral identity with any of the following aspects of my personality: flippancy, criticism, humor, dismissal, bartering, sarcasm, extreme enthusiasm or ambivalence. Basically, how can you be a pastor and do/say/think that? And to those queries I say, "Yes, I am a Pastor. But I'm not Your Pastor."

This may sound cold. In fact, when I casually ran this idea by a number of my pastoral colleagues, several said as much, one even suggested--jokingly, I think, though now I am beginning to question it--that perhaps I should attend some training on how to "integrate my values." But it is not meant coldly at all. In fact, quite the opposite. I am a pastor. I have been trained as a pastor. I pastor a church, and the title in my email signature is "pastor." I have wisdom and privilege and trust that are granted to me because of my office as a pastor. And I have particular responsibilities for upholding that office with dignity and integrity. But though I may be a pastor in every way, I'm not everyone's pastor. Though I can bring to bear all the insight I have gained through my identity as a pastor to all my relationships, I can't relate as a pastor to everyone. I have to relate to my friends as friends, and my partner as my partner, and my family as my family. I can't apply active listening in every conversation I have with Mr. L about what to get at the grocery store. And I can't maintain relationships of caring with my friends if all I can say is "That sounds really overwhelming." and not "Something sucky happened to me today too....let's bitch about it." I cannot constantly be attentive to everyone else's well-being in the same way I am attuned to it at work (just as I imagine most doctors do not come home at the end of the day and take their children's blood pressure.) Does this mean that I don't appreciate it when people outside of my work life ask me for input or advice or insight or prayers? Of course not. Using my skills to help those I care for is an honor and a joy. But it still doesn't mean that I'm their pastor.

A lot of theological work has been done to determine how it is exactly that being a pastor sets one apart from those whom one pastors. And there are many different answers to that question. In my own tradition, the Reformed branch, we believe that a pastor is set aside for particular work, not because of elevated genius or holiness (I am a very holy genius, you should know, but it's just a coincidence and is not how I got this gig.) Anyway, we believe you are set aside for the office. And there is something about consent in there. We have to agree that I am your pastor. And I have to agree to be in that role, to set aside my personal agendas and prejudices and issues in order to be fully present with you and help you hear what God is saying to you. And that changes how we are and will be together. And I don't always want that.

Because one cannot be set aside all the time. One has to be set inside too, in a community of equals, in order to be real. And so yes, I will continue to periodically tease you and make sarcastic comments and barter to get things I want and listen only half-heartedly sometimes (Mr. L if you are reading this, of course I am actively listening to you most of the time). I don't know that that makes me a bad pastor (though perhaps some of my colleagues will still disagree).

Perhaps this makes no sense at all. But being pastor of the entire world sounds pretty tiring. Doesn't it?


Here is a handy test to take if you are concerned about the implications of this post:

If I look like this when we are interacting, I am probably your pastor:

 

If I look like this, I'm probably not:

Please note the difference in both dress and demeanor.