Circuit Riders...

Circuit Riding…

 

1 Thessalonians 1:1-10
1:1 Paul, Silvanus, and Timothy, To the church of the Thessalonians in God the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ: Grace to you and peace.

1:2 We always give thanks to God for all of you and mention you in our prayers, constantly

1:3 remembering before our God and Father your work of faith and labor of love and steadfastness of hope in our Lord Jesus Christ.

1:4 For we know, brothers and sisters beloved by God, that he has chosen you,

1:5 because our message of the gospel came to you not in word only, but also in power and in the Holy Spirit and with full conviction; just as you know what kind of persons we proved to be among you for your sake.

1:6 And you became imitators of us and of the Lord, for in spite of persecution you received the word with joy inspired by the Holy Spirit,

1:7 so that you became an example to all the believers in Macedonia and in Achaia.

1:8 For the word of the Lord has sounded forth from you not only in Macedonia and Achaia, but in every place your faith in God has become known, so that we have no need to speak about it.

1:9 For the people of those regions report about us what kind of welcome we had among you, and how you turned to God from idols, to serve a living and true God,

1:10 and to wait for his Son from heaven, whom he raised from the dead--Jesus, who rescues us from the wrath that is coming.

 

I spent 36 years as a United Methodist “circuit rider.” As any U.M. clergy who may be reading this know, we serve at the pleasure (mercy?) of our bishop, and as ordained elders, may be “moved” at any time. I remember a retired pastor telling me at the beginning of my ministry: “Don’t count on always moving as of July 1. Only two of my moves happened at the ‘normal’ appointment time.” I chuckled, when he said this, but fully expected my own journey to be “regulation,” as my wife and I had committed to the full itinerancy system, “declaring” my career as the “primary” one, even though hers was much more stable and financially lucrative, were we to make IT the priority, stay in one place, and let her keep a job. As it was, my change of appointments derailed her career at least three times. (I often wonder, when we do such crazy things because we believe God “tells” us to, which end of that statement is the craziest?) That all said, the retired pastor had offered some “real world” wisdom—only three of my six appointments happened at the “normal” appointment time of July 1!

 

So, move we did. I had the weird record of serving in six appointments, but only in five churches, as our final move was back to St. Paul’s UMC in Allison Park, where I had previously served as an associate pastor for five years. The average length of my appointments? Six years. That’s pretty much the average across the denomination, by the way. Our kids attended three school districts, and Dara worked for two hospitals, a nursing home, and two colleges. She was also unemployed during the most “testy” part of our home finances (when both kids were in college and studied abroad, to boot), thanks to our move to Sharon. However, I can fully affirm the “I will be with you” side of the God equation. We not only made it through a mountain of debt to a position of financial solvency, but the “career jerking” Dara went through got her to use her Masters of Health Education in teaching opportunities with Jamestown Community College and Penn State. At Penn State, she transitioned to teaching in their online “World Campus,” from her classroom assignments at their Shenango Valley campus, which meant that she could continue to teach occasional courses for them, even after we physically moved away. God also gave us the wisdom to not live beyond our means, how to enjoy a modicum of frugality, and to have strong discipline against my personal “ENFP” distractions that usually cost money. These lessons have afforded us a comfortable retirement, as well.

 

I committed to the itinerant system because I believed it to be the “Methodist” way. I also felt that my personal spiritual gifts would “travel well.” I viewed myself as a kind of “trouble-shooter,” able to arrive at a church, quickly assess what their most current presenting needs were, build a system to meet those needs, and then move on, leaving the church stronger and with a greater sense of vision for the next pastor to shepherd. Did I ever question God’s “wisdom” as shown through the appointment process. Regularly. After serving seven years in my first appointment (3 as student pastor, 2 as provisional after seminar, and 2 as elder) where I worked with an incredible team of laity to “rebuild” the church into a viable, growing entity, I figured I had carved out a career for myself, moving from hurting congregation to hurting congregation, and “trouble-shooting” them to health. And then the Cabinet appointed me as an associate pastor to one of the Conference’s largest and most healthy congregations, where I was seen pretty much as a “youth pastor.” What? However, the “large church” skills I learned at St. Paul’s during my first go-round there would prove invaluable throughout my ministry. Again, God seemed to know what God was doing, not that I ever got over second-guessing the Almighty. Now that you have read through a primer on my ministerial journey, let’s see how it matches up with this weekend’s passage!

 

Paul’s letters contain greetings to the churches to which he writes. Some of the churches he was instrumental in starting; others, he was just connecting with as part of HIS itinerant ministry. I find it interesting that he frequently names specific church members—leaders?—in his greetings, as this is something we modern “circuit riders” are typically very careful about, in any “public” correspondence with our former churches, as it may be seen as showing favoritism. First of all, we United Methodists have had to evolve certain protocols, regarding our former appointments, as the Book of Discipline considers it an offense to continue any form of ministry with a past congregation. I have gone out of my way to maintain this “pastoral distancing” because it is our rule, and because I do NOT want to in any way interfere with, nor disrespect the ministry of a colleague. 

 

[There was one exception to this, however, and it happened when a number of former parishioners reached out to me for “advice” about what they should do when their current pastor was opening strategizing to persuade the church to vote to disaffiliate from the denomination. I advised them where to turn for accurate information, as much disinformation was being offered to fuel the vote. Unfortunately, the vote succeeded, and one of the proudest and most historic congregations I was privileged to serve, is no longer United Methodist. I still believe the actions of that pastor to be culpable in this defection. I can only imagine what the animated Apostle Paul would have said in a letter to that church!]

 

This element of our modern-day circuit riding ministry is kind of sad, when you think of it. We all realize that this rule is in place because a few colleagues in the past have blatantly violated protocols and courtesies, continuing to conduct weddings, funerals, and even baptisms for past parishioners and their families. Still, when we read Paul’s letters, the camaraderie and collegiality that seems to exist between early church pastors and leaders stand out, and there was an open honesty. Paul clearly praised the work of current leaders in his letters, even when he had to “correct” them, or suggest an alternative plan may be “God’s will” for them. Paul’s “possessiveness” was limited to the “body of Christ,” and not to a single congregation, even if he had a few “favorites.” “His church” was the WHOLE church, not any one church. 

 

His greeting to the church at Thessalonica is typical—prayers, gratitude for their faithfulness, and good work, and a reminder of God’s call on them. He is glad for the breadth of their ministry, and yet reminds them that it was God in Christ that “saved” them from following idols. Paul never shied away from these “real world” reminders, similar to how members of Alcoholics Anonymous never forget what THEY have been delivered (saved) from.

 

Paul’s idea of evangelism has always intrigued me. In a nutshell, it is: “If you want to know how to follow Christ, imitate me.” Wow! Who among us would make THAT kind of statement, and feel we had done potential “converts” any favors? But Paul does it all the time, even as he does in this passage. Paul had confidence that his “way” of discipleship was transferrable, and he further believed that his ability to persevere through persecution could likewise be modeled for his charges. Honestly, the closest I have ever come to this “imitation” motif was in my penchant for storytelling, often using my own experiences as the subject matter. If you can’t tell from reading these retirement sermons, I DO like to relate personal experiences where I believe they may either provide some measure of guidance for the reader, OR a cautionary “don’t ever do this,” when the plot is negative. I also used stories in my preaching and teaching when I felt it could “provoke” the listener to remember THEIR faith stories, which IS something Paul does in his writings, as well. Frankly, this use of storytelling is also probably the closest most of us will get to the parables of Jesus. I realize that our life stories and testimonies are NOT parables, but they can, on occasion, elicit a similar response in the listener. 

 

In this passage from Thessalonians, Paul talks of the “wrath to come.” This is most likely a reference to the first-century belief that the “second coming of Christ” and God’s judgment was on the near agenda. The “wrath” would be visited upon those who had either rejected the Gospel of Jesus Christ, or who had distorted or exploited it for personal gain. John Wesley, founder of Methodism, was also “famous” for his use of the phrase “flee from the wrath to come,” which he undoubtedly got for Paul. Like I said in last week’s message, one can argue on the virtues of “loving” people into the Kingdom of God, or “scaring the hell out of them” with what MIGHT come their way, if they reject God. When I read both Paul and Wesley, however, I don’t sense the kind of “fear mongering” that is sometimes present in modern, evangelical language. Instead, it seems to provide a “barrier” or a boundary, urging the listener (or reader) to “don’t go there.” A good word to define “fleeing the wrath” would be repentance, wherein the Greek metanoia means, literally, “stop, turn 180 degrees, and go in the opposite direction.” Another author—Maxie Dunham, I believe—uses this definition of repentance: Turning our lives GODWARD. This all sounds so much more edifying and practical than merely doing the “right thing” to avoid being judged, kind of like driving the speed limit because it’s safer for us and others, rather than just out of fear for getting a ticket.

 

So, what if we modern-day circuit riders “imitated” Paul’s way of encouraging his churches, past and present? In our case, we may offer our best affirmation when having an opportunity to interact (even on social media) with former parishioners, but leave the “real” ministry—especially any correction that may be needed—to their current pastor. We can cherry-pick a few of Paul’s better, more encouraging practices, yet fully realize that OUR role in the established church and its systems is NOT “Pauline.” Paul would probably most resemble a bishop, in our time, not an “in the trenches” pastor. But there is nothing wrong with ANY of us being encouraging, grateful, and edifying toward any of the people we have served, when the opportunity arises.

 

I thought I might end this message with a listing of a few of the “pillars” of the five churches I served, as an act of gratitude for how they blessed my life and enhanced my ministry. However, as I began to compile the list, I soon realized that it was TOO long, TOO limited, and it was not at all just including “pillars.” Many of the people who deeply touched my faith and inspired me were folk others would NEVER have thought of as “leaders.” I will mention one of them. Jim Shifter was serving as the chairperson of the church trustees in my very first church. He took that role because no one else would, but he was an extremely quiet, humble man—a welder by trade—who wanted no part of the limelight. My very first day “on the job” in that church, Jim came to the church office to meet me, but also to tell me his daughter had just died, one month after the unexpected death of his son-in-law. They were both in their 30s. I offered to have my predecessor, Rev. Victor Brown, do the service, as he had been Jim’s pastor for the previous six years, which immediately endeared me to Jim. Rev. Brown (another of those INCREDIBLY inspiring people) said he would only share the service with me, so we led it together. From that time on, “quiet Jim,” who had earned the trust and respect of that congregation, would listen to any of my ideas for new ministries, weigh them in his heart, and get behind them. When he got behind them, so did the whole congregation. A blue-collar, soft-spoken welder with permanently soiled fingernails will always be my nomination for “top saint” in my ministry. Oh, there were many, many others who would follow, but Jim Shifter is the one to be “imitated,” to use Paul’s word!

 

One final personal story about Jim, and I’ll quit. Jim always came to church in a shirt and a tie, but not a sport jacket. I’m not sure he had one? But in the Spring of my first year, the church was having its annual rummage sale. I had a white, plaid sport jacket in excellent condition I donated, as its “style” no longer suited my ministry persona (looked more like something a sports commentator would wear on “This Week in the NFL”). The week after the rummage sale, here came Jim Shifter in “my” plaid jacket, and looking quite dapper, I might add. He was excited about finding the jacket, which fit him perfectly, having no idea who had donated it, and I never told him. But every time I saw him come into church with that jacket on, I welled up with tears, feeling a deep honor that he was wearing it. I was so proud, that I could covertly give something back to Jim for all he had come to mean to me, over those years. Hey, maybe this IS a parable of what Paul was telling the people at Thessalonica? Amen! Grace to you, and peace!