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Tuesday, November 24, 2020

Matthew 25:31-46, November 22, 2020, Sermon

“The Great Divide” 
Pastor Randy Butler 

As a pastor in Seattle I often met people who were in need, sometimes desperate need. Our church was up the hill from a major street through the city – Aurora Avenue, which was and still is old Hwy 99. So all kinds of people would walk up the hill to our church looking for help. When I first arrived in 1998 a guy came to the church looking for a bus ticket or a ride to Edmonds. I was new and full of idealism and I gladly gave him a ride. It was October, the weather was starting to cool and I even gave him my fleece. It was a nice forest green fleece pullover, I remember it well. As time went on others came and went, and I found that my compassion cooled somewhat in view of the harsh realities of urban life. 

There was a man who once threatened me as we talked one afternoon in the fellowship hall. I called the police, but he left. I was approached by another very disturbed man who got right up in my face, swore at me and then spit on me. So after a while my response to those in need depended often on my own state of mind at the time, and the person, and the resources we had at the church. One man would come every few months or so, nicely dressed, very intelligent, always wanted to talk theology, but that simply hid his need for food and shelter. We helped when we could but sometimes we couldn’t. So in the terms suggested by Jesus’ parable, I could be a sheep one day and a goat the next.

I have to tell you, I don’t think I have ever preached on this parable. I find it challenging, disturbing, even kind of haunting, and so I suppose I have avoided it. But it comes as the culmination of Jesus’ teaching in the gospel of Matthew, his last teaching, just before the account of the passion so it is the final and conclusive exhortation of Jesus before his crucifixion. And that means that it is a really important parable and lesson. Matthew intends it to be so, by his placement of it. And clearly Jesus meant it so too.

And so as I dove into it in detail really for the first time, I was blessed and I emerge from my study this week more trusting of this parable than I once was. And I discovered that it is full of surprises. The parable pictures Jesus on the throne before the cosmic multitudes at the end of the age, separating the human family into two groups – one group who respond with compassion to those in desperate need, and another group of those who do not, the sheep to the right and the goats to the left. But here is the surprise in this great separation: there is no talk about what we believe as the dividing criteria, there is no confession of sin, no repentance, no sinners’ prayer, no prayer at all really, no statement of faith, no profession of faith in Jesus. And that doesn’t sound like what we usually hear from our churches, where we have made doctrine and belief the primary dividing line between the righteous and the unrighteous.

There are several places where you can stand on the North American Continental Divide. I had the opportunity when I was I backpacking in Banff National Park in Alberta many years ago. And it was really something to stand on the very spot and look to one side where everything flows into the Pacific Ocean and then look to the other side where everything flows to the Atlantic Ocean. We call it the Continental Divide or the Great Divide.

What this parable of Jesus is teaching us is that there is one great divide among all people, for all time. But it doesn’t have to do with our religion, our political affiliation, who we voted for in the 2020 presidential election, whether you are Republican or Democrat. The great divide has nothing to do with whether you wear a mask or not. It isn’t a division between men and women, black or white. The only thing that ultimately distinguishes us one from another is our response to those in desperate need. The great divide is drawn right through our hearts really, and we will fall to one side or the other based our response to those in need.

That is the first surprise. The second surprise is this: When we serve others in need we are serving Jesus himself. “When was it Lord that we saw you hungry and gave you food, thirsty and gave you a drink? When was it that we clothed, welcomed and visited you?” Jesus’ answer, “Just as you did it to the least of my sisters and brothers, you did it to me.” Now there is plenty in the New Testament about belief in Jesus, and the importance of faith in Jesus. The most famous verse in the New Testament, John 3:16, says, “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but have eternal life.” The end of John’s gospel says that, “these things were written so that you may come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through believing you may have life in his name.”

But perhaps right here in our parable is where faith in Jesus and the love of others meets. When we love others we love Jesus. When we serve others we serve Jesus. In some of our traditional language about faith we speak of receiving Christ; of accepting Christ into our hearts. Matthew is saying that we receive Christ when we receive the stranger, the prisoner, the hungry. He is saying that we accept Christ when we accept the thirsty, the sick and the poor. In receiving them we are receiving Christ. In accepting them into our hearts we accept Christ into our hearts. We see and meet Christ when we see and meet those in need.

Now it is easy to take a text like this and use it as a kind of scorecard, a checklist. “Let’s see, I gave that guy in front of the store a granola bar awhile back. That makes me one of the sheep, right? I wasn’t very welcoming of that woman who knocked on my door though – I guess I’m sort of a goat. But I did recently visit my sick niece – surely that qualifies me for the sheep? I’ve never really visited anyone in prison – that makes me a goat.” Then we tally it all up to determine whether we are to inherit the kingdom prepared for us since the foundation of the world with the rest of the sheep, or whether we are destined for the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels along with the goats.

That of course is not what this parable intends. It intends rather to invite us to examine our general disposition, to ask where it is we live in relation to the great divide. Is our heart generally open to those who are in need or not? Do we respond to those in need or close our door in their face?

Part of the grace of the parable is that the actions that Jesus lists are not out of reach for us. We are not expected to heal the sick, just visit the sick. We don’t need to eradicate world hunger – just give someone a sandwich. We don’t have to begin an international relief effort, we simply have to give someone a shirt or a pair of shoes. We do some of these things already. We help at Backpacks or the Open Door. We take our clothes to the Good Will or other charity. We donate food to the food bank. These things are all doable, if we are generally disposed in our hearts to respond and act.

I would point out that the parable is very specific and personal. I was sick, says Jesus, and you visited, I was hungry and you gave me something. So what Jesus is talking about takes concrete individual action. It’s not limited to a general frame of mind. It invites us to encounter other human beings, to be face to face with another human being in need, in whose face we see the very face of Christ.

Still don’t be frightened by this parable, like I have been. Take it seriously, O yes, take it seriously. That is what Jesus wants, what Mathew wants. It is a wake-up call parable, but it need not keep us awake at night, tossing and turning over whether we belong with the sheep or the goats. Psalm 100 says, “Know that the Lord is God, It is he that made us and we are his, we are the sheep of his pasture.” In the gospel of John Jesus says, “I am the good shepherd, the good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.” We can trust in God’s shepherd-like love given to us in Jesus Christ. It is in the security of being loved that we in turn can love. It is the assurance of having received that we can then give ourselves to others, and take seriously the exhortation of the good shepherd to tend to the needs of others in our church, our community and our world.




Tuesday, November 17, 2020

Matthew 25:14-30, November 15, 2020, Sermon

"Risky Faith"
Pastor Randy Butler 

Prayer for Illumination:
Come, Holy Spirit, open our minds and hearts this day, that we may be illumined by your living Word and walk together as children of light.


I love this parable. We call this the parable of the talents, and our English word talent comes from this passage in Matthew. Many English words and phrases have their origin in the Bible. Our word scapegoat, for example, comes directly from a passage in the Old Testament book of Leviticus. The term golden calf, referring to those various idols of our lives, comes from a famous passage in Exodus. When we say Alpha and Omega for the beginning and end we use a phrase from the book of Revelation. Apocalypse, a word used a lot this year, comes from the same book.

And the word talent comes from this parable. The Greek word talenton in Jesus’ parable here in Matthew, is an amount of money, a very large sum. But as the word made its way into Latin it took on additional meanings related more generally to wealth, or weight, the weight of a large sum. Finally as it is found in Old and Middle English it has the sense of a gift, then skill. And so the word talent has come to mean in our language a skill or God given gift, a certain aptitude.

So the word has a wide range of meanings, and what Jesus in Matthew meant literally as money, we could also interpret as time, the gift of time, any opportunity – will we squander or use an opportunity? And we can talk about gifts and skills or aptitudes. And so, this is a parable about the exercise and the stewardship of our talents.

In this section of the Gospel, Jesus is speaking about the urgency of the times, the need to stay awake to his presence and appearance in our lives, the need to be prepared, like the bridesmaids in last week’s parable, and now the need to make the most of the talents, the opportunities, the time, the money that we have been given. As Bible scholar Dale Bruner says, a talent is “whatever the Lord gives now and may ask about later.”

So the parable - a man who owned much was preparing to go on a trip. And Matthew says that he entrusted his property to his servants in his absence. To one he gives five talents, to another two talents and to the third one talent, each according to their ability. And notice the trust here. The master gives no instruction about the talents, there are no conditions, there are no strings attached. He treats his servants like adults, like the mature human beings they are. And they are given great freedom in the management of the assets they have been given.

God gives us great gifts, with no conditions attached. The letter to the Ephesians says that God has lavished grace and love upon us, that God has freely bestowed glorious grace upon us and within us. We have been given much. And we are free to exercise our gifts and our talents in the way that we think is best, in view of the master’s generosity and our hope to earn the master’s approval upon his return. But inside that we have a lot of freedom. Some have money. God entrusts us with this and there is freedom in your use of it. Some have talents like music or art or building, or aptitudes in math or science. There is great freedom in the exercise of these talents, great creativity and opportunity to use these talents. The only thing we remember is that a talent is whatever the Lord gives now and may ask about later.

The three servants, then, are given these talents and the master goes away. The one with five talents sets off at once – with great enthusiasm and dreams, he trades with the talents, uses them, leverages his talents, and makes five more, the Greek word can mean that he earns or even wins five more. He moves out, he works and he produces. He takes initiative. Perhaps nowhere else do we see Jesus’ affirmation of the profit motive as we do here, investment and return on investment. Entrepreneurs should love this parable.

The servant with two talents does the same thing as the first, doubling his money, a 100% return on his investment. Notice how active these first two servants are – the use of our talents is active and energetic, creative, not passive. But the third servant responds very differently. He sets off and digs a hole and then hides his master’s money. So the contrast could not be more clear. The first two servants move out; the third goes away; the first two go to work with what they have; the third digs a hole; the first two servants win some more; the third hides his away. And Jesus’ parable is meant to ask us: Where are we in this parable, and now might we be employing our considerable assets?

Where are we in our lives and in our church? Are we moving out in hope or are we retreating in fear? Now we are in a strange time, a time in which we are actually encouraged to retreat a little, stay at home, hold off, retreat from life. So this is hard and we acknowledge that. But the questions still linger. Where in life are we taking the initiative? It might be with our families, it might be with a new hobby, or in our work, in our community. This is a time of inaction, but somewhere in our lives there is action – where is it? Are we working at it, taking risks here and there in this new environment, or are we digging a hole and crawling in, playing it safe?

I was working on my sermon the other day, and started feeling a little restless, so I went for a walk, asking God to help me engage in conversation with someone. So I saw a man nearby raking his leaves and we had a good conversation, until he started promoting various conspiracy theories, and that ended our conversation. Nevertheless, I made the conscious effort and took the small risk to engage in conversation. And that was important for me, to sort of crawl out from hiding on that day.

Are we grateful for what our master has given us, whether it is five or two or even one talent? And will we leverage what we’ve been blessed with or will we hide away with what little we have? Will we risk putting our assets into play, or protect what we have with no chance of multiplying it? Will we eagerly work with the abundance we have or blame God for what little we have? Do you notice how the third man in our parable blames the master for his meanness. He portrays himself as the victim. Do we sometimes play the victim? Do we live with an attitude of scarcity? Do we blame God and others for our circumstances?

Our church has been greatly blessed – in the years ahead will we risk what has been given to us, even if we lose some of it, or will we hide it away and protect what we have? Our parable this morning strikes directly at the question and quality of our stewardship. What will we do with the talents – the gifts, the money, the property, the skills and the aptitudes we have been given? What will we do with what the Lord gives now and may ask about later?

The good news amidst the challenge of this parable is a bit of mysterious math. Jesus puts it like this – to all those who have, more will be given, and they will have an abundance. But from those who have nothing, even what they have will be taken away. Jesus blesses and affirms the creativity and energy and risky faith of the first two servants – “good and faithful servants, you have been trustworthy in a few things I will put you in charge of many things, enter the joy of your master.” When we take risks, even if we fail, we grow in confidence, and we develop the skills we have been given, and that leads to more opportunity and possibility. But if we hide away our skills and talents, bury them, well then we have no chance of advancement, and our gifts will atrophy for lack of use.

Someone once wrote that “Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous? Actually who are you not to be? You are a child of God.” Jesus once said “You are the light of the world…let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.” Let’s keep letting our light shine friends, in this dark winter ahead. We have been blessed with talents, and gifts, and property and assets and skills. Let us use them to the glory of God today and in the years ahead. Amen.

Tuesday, November 10, 2020

Matthew 25:1-13, November 8, 2020, Sermon

“Checking Our Oil Reserves” 
Pastor Randy Butler 

As you know, I have been making the trip from Baker to Spokane a lot in the last several months, putting more long distance miles on my car than usual. So I got my oil changed last month, and while I was sitting there waiting for them to finish the service guy came up and said, “You are good to go, but just so you know your oil level was really low, so it’s good you came in.” Sometimes I just don’t get around to things. I’m forgetful, lazy, and I think my car will just run forever, forgetting that it needs a full crankcase of oil to keep going smoothly. I was running low on oil and I didn’t even know it. That’s how it is in life too. Our reserves – emotional, physical, spiritual reserves start running low, and before we know it our engine just stops. We are going to talk about checking that oil level this morning, about keeping our engine going, keeping our lamps burning. 

That’s what our text is about – Jesus is telling a parable about a first century Galilean wedding. No cars, but lots of lamps and light. It seems to have been a first century Jewish tradition that the bridesmaids would wait until everything was ready and then go out and greet the bridegroom as he arrived, usually in the evening, with lamps and celebration and singing. So the bridesmaids had to remember to bring their lamps and check the oil in their lamps.

Weddings require a lot of planning. Do we have the flowers? Are the dresses all altered and hemmed? Who is going to pick up the tuxedos for the groom’s wedding party? Is the reception venue ready? Do we have enough food? Will we have enough champagne for the toasts? Oh and don’t forget the rings – Best Man that’s your job. Some are better at planning these major events than others. That’s why we have wedding planners after all.

So in Jesus’ parable, half of our bridesmaids bring their lamps with extra oil flasks, just in case things go longer than planned. And the other half, “Oh it’ll be okay, we’ll have enough oil. We’ll be fine.” I don’t know about you, but I tend to fall into the latter category. Someone says, “Don’t forget to have a blanket in the car for those long trips back and forth, you might get stuck in snow. Do you have a water bottle? Have you checked your oil?” And my response is, “Oh, we’ll be alright.”

So the wedding does go longer than expected in our parable. In fact, they’ve been waiting so long for the bridegroom that all ten of the bridesmaids fall asleep. But then comes a shout, “The bridegroom is here! Quick! Get up and let’s go out to greet the party! Trim your lamps and let’s go!” Now the bridegroom arrives at midnight, and we begin to wonder if Jesus is talking about more than a festive wedding. Jesus is trying to tell us something about the kingdom of God. And we realize that maybe Jesus is really talking about the coming of himself, the coming of God into our lives, the bridegroom arriving right in the dark midnight of our lives, saying, “Wake up! I am here.”

But there is a problem. The five bridesmaids who neglected to bring extra oil don’t have enough to go out and greet the bridegroom. It’s one of those wedding crisis moments. So they say to the other five, “Well, give some of yours so that we can all go out.” And they answer, “No, then none of us will have enough. Better that five us go than none of us. Go out and get some more oil.” That’s hard to do at midnight on a Saturday. And again we realize that Jesus is getting serious here. Sooner or later we have to decide for ourselves, and take responsibility for ourselves. It’s up to us to check the oil. The foolish bridesmaids, as someone put it, think that since they accepted the invitation to the wedding party, that guarantees their participation in it, and that they need no preparation for it. But we can’t borrow on the faith of others. There is no second-hand or third-hand faith. It is on us at some point. Is there enough there, or are my own faith reserves running low?

In our Old Testament text, Joshua is making the final preparations for life in the new land to which the people have come. How will they live this new life? Joshua puts before the people the choice, “Will it be the gods of the surrounding people that you worship or will it be the Lord? Choose this day whom you will serve,” he says. “You may serve other gods. But just so you know, as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.”

The question is for us too. Whom will we serve – the gods of consumerism, the gods of power and political beliefs, the gods of the Republicans or the Democrats? Will that be where we put our ultimate trust? The gods that lure us into addictions of various kinds? The gods of the celebrities? Who will we follow in our lives, on this journey? And if it is the Lord, do we have enough reserves to see the journey through to its end? Is there enough oil in our tank? Is there enough fuel to keep our own lamps burning?

It seems to me that we could be in for long, cold and dark winter. COVID-19 is still very much on the loose. That will keep us distanced and apart. We are in an interim time in our church. It might feel sort of unsettled for us. Though the presidential election seems to have been decided, political tensions and uncertainties will not disappear. It is sure to be a contentious few months ahead.

How are your reserves? Is there enough in you to keep faith, hope and love burning bright through the winter months? Or are you saying, “Oh it’ll be fine.” In times like this I ask, “How is my life of prayer? Am I drawing strength and insight and inspiration from scripture and good Christian reading? Am I engaging in worship in person or online? Am I finding a way to serve and give? Am I staying in touch with other fellow travelers on the journey of faith? What am I doing to keep faith, hope and love alive and burning brightly?”

We have to answer Joshua’s question, “Whom will you serve” everyday, over and over again. We have to renew our commitment to Jesus Christ, the bridegroom, again and again. A few years ago, a man called me at the church I served in Seattle and said that he was married in our church about twenty five years ago. It was before I had arrived as pastor. His anniversary was coming up and he wondered if he could come over to the church to see the sanctuary again. They were thinking about renewing their wedding vows. So he came over and we talked and he asked me if I would help them renew their vows in the church where they were married twenty five years before. And I said that I would be delighted to do that. So the day came, exactly the day of their anniversary. It was the middle of the week. Just the two of them arrived, no witnesses, and we had a short ten minute service. It was a touching and moving service. We all cried together. I barely even knew them and we were all crying through this.

It meant something for them to renew their vows after twenty five years, because a lot had taken place in those years that might have broken those vows. Would they stay together in sickness and health? Would their commitment survive plenty and want? Would they really get through joy and sorrow? And yet here they were saying to one another again, “I do.”

We are not alone friends. Our beloved bridegroom has come, does come to us, and will come, even in the dark midnights of our lives. But the question is still before us. Are we ready? How are we engaging with life, with God? Is it just a frivolous undertaking? “Oh we’ll have enough, we’ll be alright.” Or are we moving through life thoughtfully and prayerfully, taking life seriously?

The journey of faith is a long journey. Let’s keep our reserves up, so that our lives burn brightly with love for our Lord. And remember to say “I do,” to the God who loves us everyday. 





Tuesday, November 3, 2020

Matthew 23:1-12, November 1, 2020, Sermon

“True Church Leadership” 
Pastor Randy Butler

On the eve a presidential election we are thinking a lot about leadership these days. Who we want to lead our country, what kind of leader we believe we need for our country. The words of Jesus in our text this morning aren’t directed to political leadership specifically but they have meaning for leaders in all walks of life – in politics, in schools, churches, business, and family. Wherever we have leaders, wherever you may be a leader, these words will have meaning and relevance.

As we read the critical nature of Jesus’ words here, what he says first is kind of surprising. Speaking to the crowds and to his disciples he says, “Do whatever the scribes and Pharisees teach you and follow it.” He has no interest in overthrowing the teaching of Moses and the law, and what we call the Old Testament. He has a deep reverence for the teachings of the Old Testament. And he wants his listeners to follow those teachings. But very quickly Jesus adds this: “but don’t do what they do, because they do not practice what they teach.” In other words, “Do as they say but not as they do.” As one of the old church leaders said, “They preach one thing with their words, and they preach another thing with their outward conduct.” The scribes and the Pharisees do not walk their talk.

So as Jesus speaks with his followers he describes first what we don’t want in our leaders. He first talks about poor leadership, what good leadership is not. And the first thing about poor leadership is that it is without grace and mercy. Jesus says these leaders load up heavy burdens on people but they don’t lift a finger to help them bear the load. If you have ever had a boss or a supervisor who delegates all the hard work and then goes home early you know what we are talking about. If you’ve ever worked hard and faithfully for someone over the years only to be thrown under the bus when things get hard, well then you know what we mean.

Leaders in all walks of life can place high expectations on others that they themselves could never meet. We do that too sometimes, especially in our families. We have high expectations of our children, but we never met those same expectations when we were young. Poor leadership shows no mercy, no grace. Current models of national and political leadership demonstrate very little mercy and grace. And whether it is in our political leadership, church leadership or in our families, we need leaders who can demonstrate grace and mercy to those who follow. Poor leadership is without grace.

Poor leadership is also all about the outward appearance, all about the show. The religious leaders of Jesus’ time were fond of wearing long robes with decorative tassels, and they placed large leather containers on their arms and foreheads with the words and prayers of scripture. The larger the better, to show how pious they were in public. Big show, little substance. As they say in Texas, maybe here too - big hat, no cattle. Lot’s a talk, lots of show but little to back it up. All about the photo-ops. They were hypocrites. We have enough hypocrisy in politics. We have it in the leadership of businesses and we have it in our churches. My prayer for our church is that our new pastor will be a person of simplicity, whose outward and inward lives match, whose words and actions are congruent. So that what we see in a pastor is what we get in a pastor.

Poor leadership is all about the show, not the substance. And Jesus points out that poor leadership is focused on being up front, in the limelight, all about the pursuit of personal greatness. The rabbis liked the front seats at the banquet table, and they loved the recognition they received in public, on the streets, in the market and the synagogues. And they liked to be called rabbi, a term of respect. All leaders are susceptible to this – we like to be recognized for who we are and what we do, and we like our titles. That’s OK, as long as it doesn’t become vanity. So we could say that for Jesus poor leadership is without grace, all about outward appearances, and focused on personal gain and recognition. Today we would say that poor leadership is self-centered, all about me. That is not good leadership, by Jesus’ definition.

So after describing false or poor leadership, Jesus goes on to identify good and true leadership. We can see this shift in the words, “But you,” in verse 8. After his critique of the scribes and Pharisees, he says, “But you,’ and so we are ready for a new way of leading. A few weeks ago we noted in another text in Matthew the words, “But Jesus,” and we saw as Jesus took a question about paying taxes in a completely new direction, so when we hear the words, “But you,” we know Jesus is drawing a contrast and is going to describe a new way, the true way of our being and leading in the world and our lives.

But you, he says, are not to be called rabbi, for you have one teacher, and you are all students. We all like our titles. We like to be called doctor, or pastor, or teacher, or nurse, or CEO, or company president or vice president. And titles are necessary, as long as they don’t separate us from the rest and place us on a pedestal. One of the greatest “doctors” of the twentieth century church and theology was Karl Barth. But Barth was careful to say, right in the middle of his many volume series on Christian theology, that the Christian life is never anything but the work of beginners…we can become masters and even virtuosos in many things but never in what makes us Christians, God’s children.” Here titles do not matter.

In the Presbyterian Church we have tried to practice this with the way we title our leaders. We have gone back and forth in trying to work this out, but recently we have called ministers and pastors teaching elders, and those who lead the church ruling elders. We have tried sometimes awkwardly to strive for equality and parity of ministry, to lessen the distinction between clergy and laity. Our leaders are all elders, some are ruling some teaching elders. Partly this is due to modern American informality. It is less common today to call someone Reverend so and so. I knew someone who was a stickler for precise language who thought I should be called the Reverend Randy Butler. I resisted that. It seems to be getting close to what Jesus is saying here in our text. Watch out for the titles. And again I hope and pray for a new pastor who cares little for titles and initials after the name, and degrees.

Now if we Protestants have our doctors and PhDs, the Catholic Church has its Fathers. And so it will always be the challenge of the Catholic tradition to watch out for the prestige of the title father, not to mention the titles bishop and pope. Every religious tradition has its titles and they betray the church’s worldly inclination towards placing some above others. Jesus has harsh words for this inclination, and invites us, commands us to a better way, a true, more humble way of leadership.

Finally Jesus adds that we are not to be called teachers or instructors, for we have one teacher the Messiah. A good teacher is one who is also receptive to being taught. Some people are teachers by job title, some are teachers by nature. They are always teaching. You can never really tell them anything – they always have to tell you, teach you. They are what we call didactic. Well, Jesus is saying that even our teachers have to learn and be taught. And so the best teacher of our churches will always be open, receptive, flexible to always learning and growing and listening, even as they teach and preach. I hope and pray that your new pastor, preacher and teacher will be such a person. Teaching always in openness to the teacher the Messiah Jesus Christ.

Jesus sums up what good and true leadership is – it is servanthood. “The greatest among you he says will be your servant. True greatness is not about ourselves but about serving others. So any of us in leadership positions will have to ask, “Am I in this for status or service?” The best leaders are not above or below their others, they are equal – they serve with others together. They do ministry together.

One leader who understood and lived this was the priest Henri Nouwen. He was a gifted communicator and teacher, and held posts at Yale and Harvard. He was energetic, passionate, and people flocked to his lectures. But he was also restless, himself open to the Spirit’s nudge and urging for something more true. And eventually he became the spiritual guide of a community of people with disabilities called the L’Arche community in Toronto, Canada.

On one of his lecture tours, a trip to Washington D.C., he took Bill Van Buren, one of the disabled residents of L’Arche. He stressed with Bill that they were going to do this together. One night when Henri was done speaking, Bill said to Henri and the gathered audience, “Henri. Can I say something now?” This made Henri a little nervous he wasn’t sure what Bill might say or do. But they were doing this together, so… Bill took the microphone and spoke, “Last time, when Henri went to Boston, he took John Smeltzer. This time he wanted me to come with him to Washington, and I am very glad to be with you here. Thank you very much.” That was it. That is all he said. Later he asked, “Henri, how did you like my speech?” Henri said, “I liked it very much,” and Bill was delighted, and added, “And we did it together didn’t we.”

My hope and prayer is that you and your new pastor will serve together, side by side. I like the way that Jim Kauth said it once, “We want someone who will relate to us as we have come to relate to one another.” That is what good and true Christian leadership is. Serving in the name of Jesus, and doing it together with us.