People Will Talk

If you're a pastor, people are talking about you.

That's just the way it is. Might as well get used to it.

Some people are remarking on the quality or content of your latest sermon, or relating to someone their appreciation for a hospital visit, or telling of your kindness in listening to them or praying with them. People are talking about your perseverance in the face of adversity, or your patience with difficult people. They may not always say such things to you, but trust me, people are saying some nice things about you.

Unfortunately, people are also saying unkind things about you. Untrue things, even. But if you're a pastor, it's happening. I'm sorry; that's just the way it is. It shouldn't be that way, but it is. Some people can't help it. Some people think it makes them feel better, or look better, if they say such things. And some people find comfort in listening to those things, and coming to believe them themselves. As I said, I wish it wasn't so, but it is. It's been that way from the start; Jesus warned his first apostles that there would be times when people would think they were doing God a favor by trying to destroy them.

There are also people who are talking about you...to God. People are remembering you in prayer, asking God to bless you, and help you, and hold you up. While the first category I mentioned can be hugely encouraging, and the second group can be unspeakably discouraging, this third group matters most. They are the ones who can keep compliments from going to your head, and keep criticisms from destroying your heart.

So take a few moments to thank God for the people who are praying for you, those you know of and those you don't. And say thank you the next chance you get to the people who talk about you to God. And if you know a pastor, be THAT person to him or her more than any other.

Who Says Elephants Can't Dance?

Who Says Elephants Can't Dance? is CEO Louis V. Gerstner Jr.'s memoir about his decision to take the reins of IBM, which was bleeding customers and money in the early 1990s, and the subsequent transformation of that company into an industry leader once again.

It was a fascinating and educational read for me, from the opening background of his experience at American Express and RJR/Nabisco to his successful strategies for leading change at IBM (the pace--and my interest--slowed somewhat in sections two to four as he went from discussing actions he had taken to outlining strategies, principles, and hopes for the future. It never became boring, though....the first section was just far more fun than the latter sections, for me at least).

It is easy to apply many of his insights to ministry, such as his identification of passion as a necessity for a successful leader, and also his insistence on a company remaining true to its core vision and sticking to its core competencies. These principles translate perfectly into ministry. And, though I don't think he ever described or even acknowledged this trait, I was frequently aware that he apparently had an ability to make controversial decisions without obsessing about the criticism those decisions would generate. He seemed to have both a healthy regard for constructive criticism and a healthy DISregard for negativity that any leader can envy.

One thing I wish he had elaborated on was HOW, when he came to IBM, he discerned what was needed and the steps it would take to get there. I found myself leaning forward so as not to miss his description of the keys to his insights and analyses...but he never gave them, at least not in terms I could learn from. Then again, there was probably too much of that insight that was simply intuitive and natural to him, given his education and experience.

Gerstner's book would be a tremendously helpful read for any leader, and perhaps especially for those who find themselves trying to turn around an existing enterprise (or church).

Church of the Week: Westminster Abbey

This week's church is Westminster Abbey (whose formal name is the Collegiate Church of St Peter, Westminster). It is a Gothic monastery church that is the traditional place of coronation and burial site for English monarchs. However, it is neither a cathedral nor a parish church, but is actually OWNED by the royal family.

According to tradition, a shrine was first founded here in 616 on a site then known as Thorney Island. It was said to have been miraculously consecrated after a fisherman on the River Thames saw a vision of Saint Peter. While the existence of this shrine is uncertain, the historic Abbey was built by Edward the Confessor between 1045 and 1050 and was consecrated on December 28, 1065. Its construction originated in Edward's failure to keep a vow to go on a pilgrimage; the Pope suggested that he redeem himself by building an abbey.

The original abbey, in the Romanesque style that is called "Norman" in England, was built to house Benedictine monks. It was rebuilt in the Gothic style between 1245-1517. The first phase of the rebuilding was organized by Henry III, in Gothic style, as a shrine to honor Edward the Confessor and as a suitably regal setting for Henry's own tomb, under the highest Gothic nave in England. The work was largely finished by the architect Henry Yevele in the reign of King Richard II.

The lovely Robin and I visited the church during our 1995 trip to England with Aubrey and Aaron.

Thanks, Cobblestone!














Wow, what a great day of worship and fellowship at Cobblestone. As usual, I am renewed and restored by the worship of God and the communion of saints. What a privilege to pray with so many after each celebration, for various needs! What a blessing to be a part of such an enthusiastic, worshiping, praying, responding, missional part of the body of Christ. God is moving, and I am a blessed man, a blessed pastor, and a blessed worshiper.

Should a Pastor Blog His Prayers?














Almost four years ago, I started a daily prayer blog (bobhostetler.blogspot.com), where I would post selected prayers from my prayer life, some of them original to me and others that I had sung, read, or recited in my times of communion with God. Since then, I've posted over a thousand prayers.

I do this for several reasons. It is just one more practice that I have found drives me to prayer and keeps me connected to God; sometimes I transcribe prayers from my prayer journal, and other times I pray while actually sitting at the computer. I do it because, if I could teach one thing as a pastor, it would be to teach my loved ones to pray, and so it may be that someone may benefit and learn from the example of a pastor who is desperate to "pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests" (Ephesians 6:18). I also do it because I want to model openness, honesty, vulnerability, and intimacy in prayer, thereby teaching by example that we don't have to confine ourselves to "proper prayers," but can go to our Abba with every emotion, every desire, everything on our minds or hearts. And I do it because I decided years ago that I don't want to play the "pastor game" with my church family; I want to be honest and open (never inappropriate) with who I really am: flawed, fickle, often fearful and too seldom faith-filled...but learning and becoming and growing.

All of that is fraught with danger, of course, because sometimes people don't like what they read in my prayer blog. Some don't think I should share my ups and downs. Sometimes they think (especially when I pray a psalm of lament or imprecation) that I'm talking about THEM! Or, perhaps worse, they think I'm targeting someone else with my prayer. And quite often, one or another of my loving church family will express concern because of the mood that is reflected in my praying....particularly when I've blogged a string of imprecatory prayers!

I've had to explain on occasion that (especially when I'm praying a psalm) I most often pray a lament or imprecation against the Enemy of my soul, the Adversary, rather than flesh-and-blood. On rare occasions I will have in mind a person or persons when I am praying, but I never name anyone except in the most glowing terms, and on most occasions, the reference actually applies to more than one person, group, or situation (unfortunately, any pastor could probably attest to the reality that in ministry there's never just one burden to carry or attack to counter at a time). If there were ever any possibility that a reader could connect such a prayer to themselves or someone they know, it stays in my journal! But lament is part of a Biblical, authentic prayer life, and so I choose not to exclude such praying from my blog (and, come to think of it, lament is a part of any authentic pastor's life, too, and it's okay for people to know that!).

But those among my flock who read my prayer blog have mostly been so supportive and encouraging as a result. It has been a blessing not only to know that others are praying along with me, but also to have someone approach me from time to time and say, "Are you all right?" One dear friend even called me once and said, in no uncertain terms, "You're coming to dinner tonight," because he wanted to encourage me and support me in the midst of an attack. Making some (by no means all) of my prayers public in this way removes some of my burden; too many of us pastors suffer unnecessarily because no one knows how human we are and how often we hurt.

Blogging my prayers has had another benefit, which I've only realized recently: It has driven home to my heart and mind the degree to which prayer lifts my head, to use the Biblical phrase. On various occasions, someone who has read my prayers has approached me to ask, "Are you all right?" and when they explain that they were asking because of something I had prayed and blogged, I realized...yeah, that's what I was feeling when I prayed it....but the very act of praying helped to such an extent that the lament or the burden or whatever it was had disappeared by the time they inquired after my well-being.

So I think I'll keep blogging my prayers. However, I may start adding a disclaimer when I blog a psalm (I've so far prayer-blogged my way through Psalm 97 of the 150 psalms, in order), to the effect, "Please don't panic when reading this prayer. I am praying with the psalmist, and therefore will paraphrase his words as best fits my situation. I may not be as desperate as the psalmist. And even if I am, God brought him through, so he'll bring me through, too." Or something like that.

(The photo above is of me journaling and praying by the Sea of Galilee in March 1987. Yes, I was thinner and younger then. Wanna make something of it?)

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The Naked Pastor blog (seriously) is one of my favorites, and this cartoon from not long ago sure depicts churchianity's aversion to questions and uncertainty.

Unless I misunderstood. And it's meant to be a critique of me or something.

Nah....