“When You’re
Up to Your Neck in Alligators”
Exodus 17:1-7
When
you’re up to your neck in alligators it’s hard to remember that your initial
objective was to drain the swamp. As I
learned during congregational redevelopment training, a key to pastoral leadership
is always remembering to let the main thing be the main thing. In other words, even as you battle with the
alligators you must never forget that your primary objective is to drain the
swamp.
Another
colleague, this time at a national conference on evangelism, urged all of us to
not allow the tyranny of the urgent keep us from letting the main thing be the
main thing. During my final year of
seminary my clinical pastoral education professor told our small group that
once we were out in the parish we would spend a lot of time and energy killing
snakes and putting out fires, just another way of saying that we’d be wrestling
a lot of alligators.
The
primary reason I answered God’s call to be a minister was to become a preacher
and pastor. I understood, and rightly
so, that a Presbyterian minister of Word and Sacrament’s primary task is to be
the Teaching Elder who feed’s God’s people on God’s Word. My preaching professor drummed into us every
day that the sermon was our primary task: not moderating the session, not
visiting the shut-ins, not attending meetings, not personnel management – the
sermon. That was the main thing that was
supposed to be the main thing.
Another
professor talked at length about “paying the rent.” The rent we would have to pay in our
pastorates would be those things I mentioned above: the meetings, the urgent
fires that needed to be extinguished, the visitation, and the administrivia
that comes with managing an ecclesiastical institution. We had to do all those things in order to be
free to do what God had called us to do.
We had to wrestle all those various alligators in order to be free to
drain the swamp.
The
problem is that “paying the rent” has a way of taking priority over the main
thing. Back in 1985 this really got to
me. I left parish ministry because I
felt more like a manager than a minister.
The problem with that was that I ended up wrestling another sort of
alligators without the payoff of being able to preach, teach, and do pastoral
care.
In
the intervening years I have finally learned that, although preaching,
teaching, and pastoral care are still important, the main thing for the 21st
century church has become visionary leadership: leadership in evangelism,
leadership in mission, leadership in working with a congregation to discern
God’s vision. That’s the main thing:
leadership. The preacher, teacher, and
pastor must also be a leader.
Moses
answered God’s call to set his people free from their slavery in Egypt. He was to deliver them from the tyranny of the
pharaoh into the freedom of the wilderness, and eventually to the Promised
Land. Moses learned early on that
leadership is hard and often unrewarding work. That’s because liberating people from slavery
involved helping them learn how to be free: to take responsibility for their
own lives and make their own decisions.
As
Moses quickly learned changing the mindset of people is difficult. Ex-slaves do not automatically know how to be
free. In fact, the freedom for which
they had for so long dreamed was scary. Things
like food and water that were given to them as slaves now had to be
sought. In the 16th chapter
of Exodus the issue was food. “If only we had died by the
hand of the Lord in the land of Egypt, when we sat by the fleshpots and ate our
fill of bread; for you [Moses] have brought us out into the wilderness to kill
this whole assembly with hunger.”
They actually longed for slavery.
Being a slave was a horrible thing but it was all they knew. There was a certain level of comfort in knowing
what each new day would bring. Once free
that comfort evaporated. Each new day
brought another form of exciting yet terrifying adventure.
In
today’s text the issue was water. “Why did you bring us out of Egypt, to kill
us and our children and livestock with thirst?”
To frame the situation in local terms, a lot of people are
questioning Gary Williams’ abilities as the basketball coach at the University
of Maryland. So what if he led the team
to a national title in 2002? That was
then. This is now. What has he done for
us lately?
Back
to Moses: as God’s appointed agent he had done battle with pharaoh. He had led them through the Red Sea. He had brought them out of slavery. But once in the wilderness with its trials
they forgot about all the things Moses had done and adopted their own version
of a what-have-you-done-for-me-lately attitude. “Hey Moses, you’re the one who
led us to this place. You’re the one God
chose to lead us. So lead! Do something!
Fix it! Make it all better!”
An
overriding truth that Moses had to re-learn from time to time, a truth that he
constantly had to convey to the children of Israel, was that neither he nor
they was in charge. God provided the
miracles. God parted the Red Sea. God sent the manna from heaven. God revealed to Moses where the water
was. Moses was the leader but God was in
control. So when the people lashed out
at Moses they were really lashing out at God.
When they questioned his leadership they were really questioning God’s
omnipotence.
Over
the millennia nothing much has changed.
Using the words of this morning’s prayer of confession to illustrate the
reality of our lack of faith and trust in the Lord, “Why do we, at the first sign of trouble, begin to doubt you [O
Lord]? We harden our hearts, insisting
you solve the problems we put to you. We
quarrel amongst ourselves, and hoard what we fear we might lose. Though you shower us with your love and
power, we abandon hope.”
For
the first six and one-half years I was in West Virginia one of my primary tasks
was to help lead a group of small churches into structuring their loose
confederacy of congregations into an organized entity known as the Mountain
Valley Presbyterian Parish. I arrived
there with a vision of how things should be.
I had a model in mind, one that had worked other places. Surprise!
Surprise! There was resistance to
that model and that vision. Folks liked
things the way they were. They didn’t
want to share a pastor with other churches.
They didn’t want seminary interns in their pulpits two out of every
three weeks. They didn’t want to change
their times of worship. They didn’t want
to give up one iota of their autonomy.
Things may or may not have been going to hell in a hand basket, but it
was their hand basket: the one they liked because it was comfortable.
Needless
to say things didn’t work out. That’s
one of the reasons I ended up here. In
retrospect I wasn’t a very good leader.
It was my model and my vision and by golly I was going to implement
it. You might say that I was more than a
tad inflexible. And competitive: my
whole time there I let myself be drawn into an ongoing struggle with an elder
over who was going to be the alpha dog.
We both wanted to be in charge.
Eventually it all fell apart, victim of their need to keep things the
way they were and my need to do it my way.
One
of the things that elder and I forgot was that neither one of us was in
charge. Moses only accomplished what he
accomplished by the grace and power of God.
How did Moses find water in today’s text? God showed him where it was. Only by God’s grace were the children of
Israel led out of Egypt. Only by God’s
grace were they able to survive in the wilderness. Only by God’s grace were they finally able to
enter into the Promised Land: God’s grace, God’s love, God’s power. Moses, for all of his importance – and he was
important, was merely the instrument through which God worked his will.
I
used to have a bumper sticker that proclaimed, “My boss is a Jewish carpenter.”
My boss is the God revealed in Jesus Christ. He is my Lord and Savior. He is in control. I forgot that a lot in West Virginia. From time to time I forget it in Maryland. My boss is a Jewish carpenter, and so is
yours. Jesus Christ and no other is the
Head of the church. Not I and my
sometimes inflexible vision of what ought to be. Jesus Christ.
Ultimately it is to him that I am accountable: not the
presbytery, not the session, not the congregation. Although I,
along with the session, have the important task of spiritual leadership at
Grace, we are not in charge: the God revealed in Jesus Christ is. It is God’s vision that we seek, not
ours. It is God’s model that we must
implement, not ours. The bottom line is
that we are merely instruments of his will – his will, not ours. We are to seek and follow that will as we
lead this congregation. That is our main
thing, and we cannot allow ourselves to be overly caught up in wrestling alligators.
Yes,
there are urgent pastoral needs. Yes,
there are financial issues. Yes, the
building must be kept up. Yes, worship
must be planned and carried out. Yes,
there is a session agenda that must be put together. Yes, there are all kinds of administrivia to
be worked through: all of it important but not ultimate.
Grace
Presbyterian church, like almost every modern mainline congregation, is in a
wilderness of sorts. The good old days
are gone. Stuff that was important ten,
fifteen, or twenty years ago has become a distraction. A lot of what makes us comfortable also has a
way of deadening our senses, especially that spiritual sense by which we
discern the will of God. We don’t want
to change our ways of doing things.
That
includes the ways I’ve gone about doing ministry in the past. I constantly need to remind myself that I’m
not in Vinton, VA or Belington, WV anymore.
I’m here. What used to work then
often doesn’t always work now. By that
same token, what used to work for Grace in the past doesn’t always work very
well in the present. Nor is what worked
so well in Cameroon always appropriate for Maryland. We cannot allow ourselves to become slaves to
the past. We cannot become the modern
equivalents of the children of Israel on their way to the Promised Land,
longing for the fleshpots of whatever our Egypt used to be.
A
couple of confessions: I don’t really want to be a visionary leader. Many days I’d prefer to emulate the United
States Congress, putting in my time until I can leave what needs to be done to
some future pastor. That’s confession
number one. Confession number two is
that I’m not very good at this visioning thing.
In terms of a vision for the future of Grace I only have some vague
suspicions, some unformed ideas.
Whatever God’s vision is for Grace it remains a fuzzy picture to
me. But as uncomfortable as I am with
such ambiguity, I much prefer it to being that hotshot pastor with a surefire
model of ministry that I am bound and determined to impose on you. I have no need to remake Grace in my own
image.
Uncomfortable
as it is I find comfort in knowing that we’re all in the same boat. I doubt that any of you have a clear vision
for Grace’s future. If one of you has
such a vision I’d sure like to hear about it – please reveal it to the rest of
us. The following words of Donald
Olsen’s commentary on the text about unclear vision bring me a certain amount
of comfort. “Fruitful church leadership requires one to have the ability to
follow. First, we follow our best
perceptions of God’s leading, understanding that we see only as in a mirror
dimly and we hear with imperfect ears.
We may hear some truth, but only one thus far has heard the whole truth
and nothing but the truth… [His name is Jesus.] Secondly, we live among a faith
community of followers who also see dimly and hear only in part. As we gather in the presence of Christ, grace
must abound: grace that is able to forgive our misplacement of authority and
call us anew to journey together toward the vision promised by God.”
So how
do we, even imperfectly, capture God’s vision for Grace? Well we can start where Moses started; we can
cry out to the Lord. We can and we
should pray, asking God for his vision.
Only after that can we go about trying to implement it. Otherwise we’ll just keep on wrestling one
alligator after another. Amen.