John 21:1-19
It’s that time of year again—when there seem to be going on even more activities than usual in our schools. For some young people, the most important event of all will be commencement—graduation from high school. For all of them, it’s been a long time coming. It’s been a lot of work along the way. One of the jobs, one of the tasks for such a young person has been coming up with a plan for the future—not necessarily something hard and fast, but some kind of a plan. In part, that’s what school counselors are for—that’s what they were called.
Many, but not all of young persons, have great hopes for their future. But it’s still a tough world out there. In spite of the strong jobs reports that have been coming out in these few months—like the addition of 263,000 new jobs in April—they still face many challenges.
Like enough money for college. It’s not as if—as we’ve seen in recent news—they have the benefit of rich parents who can bribe college officials to get their children into the universities of their choice.
So additionally to help young people along, to help them both to succeed and be good persons, school programs have put an emphasis on character building—something, I think, that’s been going on since the 1990s. It seems that it can’t be left up to parents and grandparents any more. Basic traits like empathy, compassion, honesty, respect, service to others, and so on have to be learned at school in addition to or instead of home and church.
Like preparation for working in an uncertain economy, the nurturing of an ethical lifestyle in young minds and hearts can be a tough thing. One of the challenges is the two-edged sword of social media—its downside of cyber-bullying, pornography, and getting hooked into the dark world of hate groups. As you probably know, that 19-year old alleged to have attacked worshippers in the synagogue last weekend had bought into all that anti-Semitic garbage on some websites—along with racism and who knows what else.
Being Christians practicing high standards may, for young people, be more difficult than ever before—not saying on that score that the rest of us has ever had it easy. Most of us are all too painfully aware of our own ethical shortcomings—whether great or small, frequent or occasional. Thankfully, we read about many of God’s people in the Bible who fell short in that department. Peter is a prime example. I’m thinking about his fear, his cowardice as a form of sin. When he swims from the boat to the shore of the lake and again encounters the resurrected Christ—there is before him a charcoal fire. It’s not unlike the fire that Peter warmed himself with when standing in front of the house of the high priest in Jerusalem—whom Jesus had been taken to after his arrest in the Garden of Gethsemane. And just as the risen Lord asks Peter three times: “Simon, son of John, do you love me?,” so that disciple is reminded, painfully reminded, of having denied him three times—either knowing Jesus at all, but especially denying that he was one of his closest followers.
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Two months ago I was reminded of some of my own shortcomings, my own feelings of inadequacy—particularly in relation to my work as an ordained minister. One Monday, Lutheran pastors across the country received from their bishops the initial draft of a document that they had just examined at their semi-conference. We clergy “types” were charged with reading it, making comments, and getting them back to the synod office—ASAP.
What is the document? A fourteen-page draft to update standards first published nearly 30 years ago, entitled, Vision and Expectations [for] Ordained Ministers in the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America.[1] The rest of it remains much the same. And that’s the problem—for me, at least. The expectations are based on four promises people make on the day of their ordinations—which are the same that are made whenever a new pastor is installed in a church:
- First, to undertake a call of Word and Sacrament—basically preaching, baptizing, and presiding over Holy Communion.
- Second, to “preach and teach in accordance with the Holy Scriptures and [the Apostles’, Nicene, and Athanasian Creeds] and [the Lutheran C]onfessions,” which are the basic theological writings of our tradition.
- Third, to “lead by your own example in faithful service and holy living.” Hmm. Wait a minute. What’s all included in that part? What’s it say in the fine print at the bottom?
- And finally, this one: “Will you give faithful witness in the world, that God’s love may be known in all that you do?” “Faithful witness?” It’s like what someone says at a spelling contest: “Definition, please.”
Well, seven years after my ordination, our newly merged Lutheran denomination spelled out the details. And that is what I just mentioned, namely, the document Vision and Expectations. Here are some highlights from the parts, entitled, “The Ordained Minister as Person and Example” and “Faithful Witness.”
- “…engage in daily prayer and encourages others in [practicing] regular prayer.”
- …engage in “regular and disciplined time for personal study…[and] participation in programs of continuing education.”
- “…participate regularly in synodical and conference occasions.” Basically, going to meetings beyond the ones already attended within the congregation!
- provide “for the care of those troubled with spiritual or emotional problems; [being sure to] honor and respect privileged communication…”
- “…In all relationships,…honor his or her public promises [and] bear the burdens of others…”
- “…lead the church in compassionate care of the suffering.”
- be “a faithful steward of time, talents, and possessions…an example…of generous giving.”
- Practice evangelism and Christian hospitality.
- On family obligations, not only those with spouse and children, but also “maintain responsible relationships with…parents and other immediate relatives.”
- Also “be [an instrument] of God’s peace and reconciliation for the world.”
- But this as well: “witness to God’s call for justice…, including testimony against…oppression…to be committed to justice in the life of the church, in society, and in the world.” Now, doing that sometimes means putting peace
on the back burner, because doing justice often gets people upset. People do, after all, have lots of opinion about mixing religion with politics.
- Here’s another touchy one: “…speak on behalf of this earth, its environment and natural resources, and its [creatures].” Does that mean I should get some solar panels put up on the church roof? Or go over to Lancaster County to protest against gas pipeline going through there?
- Here’s one other expectation: “The ordained minister needs to be an example of self-care…in order to avoid neglect[ing] proper nutrition, exercise, and time for recreation.” But finding time for that while trying to accomplish everything else seems problematic. And specifically about proper nutrition? Everyone knows an occupational hazard for ministers is attending church dinners with good-tasting but necessarily healthy food—including desserts. In fact, some of you are complicit, are enablers in my failure to practice that part of self-care. And you know exactly who you are!
Seriously, what’s most difficult is less the expectation to do so many things, but even more to embody them. Listen to these words:
Ordained ministers fulfill the calling of [their office] not only by what they do in carrying out certain tasks, but also in who they are. They…proclaim and witness
in their person to the gospel of Christ.
Then right after that comes this: But “pastoral identity is not one of moral or spiritual perfection.” Oh, really? In all fairness, it should be mentioned that peppered throughout the document are reminders about God’s grace and forgiveness.
On the shore of the lake—each time Jesus asks Peter whether he loved him and Peter answers yes, Jesus says: “Feed my sheep.” At the end, he commands him to do one other thing: “Follow me.” In essence, what Jesus is doing is re-commissioning Peter. He has already forgiven him—although he doesn’t do it with words. It’s understood simply by Jesus being there, waiting for him. It’s his invitation to again be in relationship with him.
- Master to disciple.
- Friend to friend.
- Risen Lord to a flawed but repentant sinner.
You know, pastors aren’t the only ones that the church has expectations of. At the baptisms of young children, parents speak on their behalf. There’s a list of promises that they make to raise their children in a certain way. When those children later finish their catechetical study—when they affirm their baptisms in the Rite of Confirmation—they claim as their own, they take on the responsibilities in those promises. And at both events—baptism and confirmation—the congregation also makes a promise—a promise to support them in continuing to mature in the Christian living.
Yet, none of us fulfills all these promises that we make—at least, not perfectly. Not 100%. Often enough not even close to that. Still, as Jesus says to Peter, so he says to us: “Follow me.” So that’s what we also do. We get up every morning—putting one foot in front of the other—asking God to help and guide us throughout the day. To be the persons we were created to be—in the image of God. Then at the end of the day, we ask God to forgive us for both those things we should not have done and those good things we have left undone.
Also, in Christian fellowship, we share the gifts of support, joy, and love. So we receive encouragement not only through individual prayer and supplication to God, but also by being—as Martin Luther once put it—little Christs to one another.
[1] Vision and Expectations: Ordained Ministers in the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (Chicago: Evangelical Lutheran Church of America, 1990; revised edition, 2010). The initial draft of the new document, entitled, “Trustworthy Servants of the People of God: Pastors and Deacons of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America,” proposes two major changes, i.e., addressing it to deacons and deaconesses as well as pastors; and updating the part about marital relationships—as a result of the church-wide decision made ten years ago.