A Pastor's Discernment

Contemplations before speaking about this (or last) (or next) week's events

Joy and I are rewatching Downton Abbey. In a triggering scene from the episode we watched last night, the Dowager Countess pressurizes the local Vicar, the unlikeable Reverend Travis, to dance to her tune. "I would point out, your living is in Lord Grantham's gift. Your house is on Lord Grantham's land and the very flowers in your church are from Lord Grantham's garden. I hope it is not vulgar in me to suggest that you find some way to overcome your scruples."

Last week’s events demanded a pastoral response.
This week’s events demand a pastoral response.
Next week’s events will demand a pastoral response.

How does a pastor discern the voices to know how to respond, through prayer or proclamation, to this (or last or next) week’s events? Is it true that the one who pays the piper calls the tune?

Different pastors have different personalities, different temptations, different congregations, in different communities. A one-size-fits-all response is not only unhelpful, but unbiblical. Last Sunday, we studied Jesus’ letters to the seven churches in Revelation 2-3. Each of Jesus’ messages to the churches resonated with the rest of scripture, but each was kairotic, contextual, conversant with what was praiseworthy or problematic in each church in particular cities with particular challenges. Every Christian preacher is called to preach Jesus Christ, and him crucified. Beyond that, making every preacher say the same thing in the same way to everyone everywhere is a straitjacket with which Jesus doesn’t fit his messengers.

Here are some discernment questions that help me before I speak.

Am I feeling rushed to comment, pressurized to signal?

I left Twitter, Facebook, Threads, Instagram for a few reasons. One of the reasons was a law enforcement reason. I felt an ungodly desire to police, then jury, then be the judge of other people’s social media witness. I don’t think it was as much mansplaining as pastorsplaining, but it was too much for me. I also left because of the increasing pressure to signal. I wanted people to know I was on the right side of that issue, this issue, and the next issue. The immediate pressure is not as immediate now that I am off of those Social Media platforms, but Sunday is always coming. How will I pray? What will I say? If I pray for the starving children in Gaza it will be received by some to be an approval of Hamas. If I pray for the remaining hostages from October 7 to be released, it will be received by some to be an endorsement of every policy decision of Benjamin Netanyahu. The Psalms themselves are so helpful because they free us from the unbearable burden of self-editing. But, liturgically, the Prayers of the People feel like a minefield that requires tiptoeing in a helmet and full body armor. Same with preaching. Same with worship leading. I’ve talked with worship leaders that are fearful of reprisal for picking sermon-on-the-mount inspired songs that feel overtly subversive in this season.

Pastor Larry Christenson was in his 80’s when I was 30 years old and just new at Trinity. He dripped wisdom. “Nathan, be responsive to the flock, but not reactive. You owe them pastoral care, but you don’t owe them instant analysis or immediate reaction. Tell them that you are going to seek the Lord, especially for weighty matters. Then do it. Wait on the Lord. Listen for his still small voice. They don’t need a pastor who is quick to answer. They need a pastor that has been with God.”

Am I being used by conflict entrepreneurs?

They exist, conflict entrepreneurs that is—bad actors at home and abroad. The ministry space is particularly vulnerable to conflict entrepreneurs, because we often attribute an undeserved altruism to Christian leaders. A TikTok was shared with me this week from a pastor influencer, an author with a growing platform, who weighed in on the grievous Charlie Kirk assassination. In a rather carefree way he said that if pastors were not publicly responding to the killing in the same way he was, they were doing it wrong, and as he wrote in the message connected, “time to find a new church.” He stood to lose little and gain much from his public decree. He got verbal praise, hallelujah’s, and amens from his politically homogenous congregation, and a TikTok that got shared broadly. More likes. More subscribers. More givers? More book-sales? A good entrepreneur, but at what cost? Paul writes, “I urge you, brothers and sisters, to watch out for those who cause divisions and put obstacles in your way that are contrary to the teaching you have learned. Keep away from them” (Romans 16.17). The way this preacher responded to the assassination was not the problem. The way he leveraged it for his own gain at the expense of the unity of other congregations is a problem.

Conflict entrepreneurs are also more meta, and far more diabolical. Politico reports,

Utah Gov. Spencer Cox (R) warned during a press conference on Sept. 12 that there was a “tremendous amount of disinformation” being shared online and that foreign adversaries were eager to aggravate tensions.

“We have bots from Russia, China, all over the world that are trying to instill disinformation and encourage violence,” Cox said.

After the Kirk assassination, Iran-linked groups started leveraging narratives that pitted Kirk against US involvement in Israel’s war in Gaza. Again from Politico, “These state-driven narratives contributed to the flood of false claims shared across social media following Kirk’s killing — and played directly into the hands of foreign adversaries, whose cyber operations seek to sow chaos and division among U.S. citizens, said McKenzie Sadeghi, NewsGuard’s editor of AI and foreign influence.”

While it is possible that passions for truth, righteousness, and justice are motivating Christians to attempt activating their pastors. It is also possible that many passions are not coming from contemplation of God’s word, but from an adversary that gets amplified by foreign bots—instilling disinformation, sowing chaos, division, distrust, aggravating tension, and ultimately encouraging violence. That meme that got so many likes and shares might not be from a witty friend, but from an adversary with very different goals. Utah Governor Cox had some great advice in this area, “This is not good for us. It is not good to consume. Social media is a cancer on our society right now and ... I would encourage people to log off, turn off, touch grass, hug a family member, go out and do good in your community." I think it is difficult if not impossible to be constantly logged in to social media or CNN/FOX/MSNBC News Channel AND to God. Log off. Turn off. Be still. Know that I am God. Psalm 46.

Am I exhibiting cowardice, virtuous courage, or perverted courage?

There is no doubt that courage is on short supply. We are increasingly becoming a servile class of people unwittingly beholden to our tailor-made algorithm. We smirk at the mimicry of little kids, but we are as prone to it as them. For instance, every week something terrible happens in our world, then we immediately look for voices we trust to tell us what to think, what to say, what to feel, what to do. We are living second-hand lives. Is it because we are afraid of first-hand lives? First-hand grief? First-hand complications? Sitting with that which is so painful, so disappointing, so disillusioning that we need another to tell us what we are feeling. We all need more courage, especially leaders. That said, all courage is not the same. The distinction between courage and lack of courage (cowardice) is easy to detect. More discernment is needed to know the difference between virtuous courage and perverted courage. Virtuous courage has a captivating fear that puts every other fear on notice. John Knox, “Give me Scotland, or I die!” Martin Luther, “Here I stand, I can do no other.” "Athanasius contra mundum." Corrie Ten Boom, "You can never learn that Christ is all you need, until Christ is all you have." Jesuit Dan Berrigan said of Dorothy Day, “she lived as though the Truth were actually true.”

The other kind of courage is perverted. It disregards fear completely, including fear of God. Perverted courage says, “I don’t care what anyone thinks.” Preachers are praised for courage, but they must be on guard against perverted courage. I wrote five years ago:

Paul doesn’t give them a message he invented, but one God would have him deliver, “In Christ God was reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting to us the message of reconciliation. Therefore, we are ambassadors for Christ, God making his appeal through us. We implore you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God” (2 Corinthians 5.19-20). The message is entrusted to us, like a precious love note en route from the Lover to the beloved. We are ambassadors, not coming in our own name and authority, but in the name and by the authority of the Great King. God is appealing to his recipient through us. “Be reconciled to God.” Can you imagine the moxie [perverted courage] you would need to go back to the Message-Giver and say, “I improved it. It needed updating—nuance. Blah, blah, blah. You were talking about reconciliation with yourself, but they are struggling with a slouch toward socialism (or immorality or whatever else is the outrage du jour), so I thought you would understand how I would set your message aside and deliver something a little more relevant.”

It is unbearable to have to answer to everyone. It is unfaithful to not be answerable to God. Virtuous courage is answerable to God on behalf of one’s neighbor.

What is the Spirit saying to the church? Not the whole church of Jesus Christ—others are responsible for the church on that catholic scale. No, in the church to which I am called. What is the Spirit saying to Trinity? Where is the law challenging something? Where is gospel-comfort needed? How does Jesus want to love Judy, and Hanne, and Isaiah, and Bri—these actual people—through my words? How does his word instruct, or discipline, or liberate this assembly?

Personally, I’m going to get it wrong sometimes. I’m going to say more than I should. I’m going to say less than I should. As it has been for 50 plus years, so it is now, I am going to put my foot in my mouth at times. Too often, and at times unaware, I’m going to be motivated by fear. Other times I’m going to be rash, and misname it as courage. This preacher is going to need lots of forgiveness, patience, and good will. But, I’m going to do my best. With the Psalmist, “I said, “I will confess my transgressions unto the Lord,” and Thou forgavest the iniquity of my sin” (Psalm 32.5). I hope you will forgive me too.

On a day last week when I felt particularly vulnerable to the voices, I reworked the old Great Litany. Maybe part of it is your prayer too:

From the temptation to signal my partisan credentials: Good Lord, deliver me.

From the fleeting satisfaction of setting-them-straight: Good Lord, deliver me.

From the misuse of my office to bind my hearer’s consciences in ways God’s heart does not: Good Lord, deliver me.

From the plague of retribution, the pestilence of self-righteousness, and from the famine of true courage: Good Lord, deliver me.

From people-pleasing pressures to say “peace, peace” where there is no peace: Good Lord, deliver me.

From a theology of glory that makes little or no use of the holy cross and the power of proclaiming it: Good Lord, deliver me.

From the convenient focus on the idiocy, the compromise, the sins of others instead of contrition and repentance over my own most grievous sin: Good Lord, deliver me.

From the stealing, killing, destroying works of the devil, his damnable lies, and condemnations: Good Lord, deliver me.

O Lord, arise, help us; and deliver us for your name's sake.

Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit; as it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end. Amen.