The Pastor Works Only 35 Minutes a Week

Ever since I switched from software development to pastoral ministry, I have been very careful to not call what I do "work" or a "job." It's "ministry," it's a "calling," but not "work." I don't "go into work," but I will "head to the church building to study" or meet with people or even "make progress" on ministries, plans, and projects. Whatever it is that I do (which is still a mystery to some!), it's not "work" like the rest of you do. I would never diminish the calling that way.

And I've been wrong this whole time.

In trying to show regard for church ministry, I accidentally have conveyed several things that aren't true:

A sacred - secular dualism. Since the Enlightenment, we've had a growing dualism that divides our lives into secular and sacred. My secular job and my sacred religious life, distinct and separate. My work, which has nothing directly to do with matters of faith, and my church life. Clergy and laity - some people who are religious for a living and then normal people. By refusing to call what I do "work," I'm refusing to use common, "secular" words to describe this "sacred" activity, which only furthers this harmful dualism.

Your work isn't ministry. The flip side of this is that I have denigrated the godly value of what you do, as if what you do does not minister to others. You engage people where they spend most of their lives, and you can demonstrate Christ by how and why you do your work. There may even be opportunities to appropriately talk about matters of faith. But if I elevate what I do over what you do, no wonder people don't feel like their jobs really matter in the big picture.

Distance where there should be proximity. By using different language for what you do and what I do, I only create distance between us, and that's the last thing we need.

What I do isn't work. Not calling it "work" makes it seem like I just spend my days floating in some spiritual high or engaging heroically in epic spiritual battles, and that I don't have to "work-y things" like plan, manage, shuffle papers, research, write, or handle salesmen. I don't do email ... I prophesy digitally!

The root of this problem is our theology of work. Work is not a curse from Genesis 3, but a holy charge for the entire human race from Genesis 1. God works, Jesus worked in the flesh and continues to work now, and the Holy Spirit works mightily within us. To work is to reflect God's character and to fulfill the charge He gave us. He created, and then commissioned us to colabor with Him in His creation to cultivate human flourishing. Therefore, all work can be sacred, not just mine.

And therefore, what I do is "work." It's a way to cultivate human flourishing, just like your work. So I should call it "work."

For me to refuse to use that common word has been an act of arrogance that also perpetuated bad theology. For that I apologize.

Challenging Images

My privilege this past week was to be one of the adult leaders for our youth group at Challenge. Challenge is a national youth conference for the Evangelical Free Church of America held every two years in different cities around the country. This year, we got to be the host city for 5400 youth and over 1000 leaders. (See #ChallengeKC on social media.) This little blog can in no way contain the breadth, depth, and value of all that happened.

One of the events at the conference was the Berlin Walk - a tour through the down-and-out "streets" of Berlin. It was an immersion experience to learn about the enormous problem of human trafficking that plagues the world, but is so focused in Germany, particularly in Berlin, that this great country is called the "Brothel of Europe." Trafficking is not just for sex, but also for labor and other forms of exploitation. The EFCA is ramping up an enormous effort in Berlin in collaboration with many other organizations to bring the reality of Jesus to the city, expressed in ways like dismantling human trafficking.

Most often trafficked are women and children, usually with false promises and dreams. It is a violation that is almost universally decried and battled by people from different countries, religions, ethnicities, and class. I believe the vilest offense is that these trafficked persons bear the image of God, and the very act of trafficking them is a violent attack on that image.

No animal should endure what these people endure, and therefore trafficking is horrendous. More than this, tho, these people are image bearers, and treating them as chattel is a loud lie that they are not - a kind of graffiti of the soul.

As we walked through these "streets" and learned, I watched our youth, also image bearers. Safe, untrafficked, properly fed, groomed, and clothed, listening, reading, and praying about defaced image bearers. They even learned how American teens' appetite for porn on their smartphones actually feeds the problem of trafficking in Berlin (and around the world). But still ... standing there, clean, loved, valued, safe image bearers at a conference to pour more light on what it means to live as image bearers, politely learning about other image bearers who have no one to remind them they, too, bear the image of God. Set in juxtaposition, my heart broke for both our youth and their counterparts in places like Berlin.

I applaud those who deny God and yet still fight trafficking. We care about the same thing. For my tribe, the reality of the image of God in others moves us to respect them, to demand justice for them, and to forsake ways in which we steal from their identity as image bearers.

Yet it's not just because the trafficked bear God's image, but because I, too, bear God's image. And our youth. I want to fight trafficking because they bear His image and because I bear His image. What else does an image bearer do in order to reflect that image than to fight for the oppressed image bearers?

The world conspires to tell us we don't bear that image - the image doesn't exist, God doesn't exist, you're just a more intelligent critter than average on this planet, and so on. The message of Jesus says you are an image bearer, and therefore valuable on His scale. My love for youth fostered even deeper, our love shared with those we served in our projects, and our growing love for the trafficked persons conspire to say that yes, indeed, the image of God is real in all of us.