The Problem
Most Christians today believe in a destructive heresy which has caused much harm in the local church. The heresy has nothing to do with the basic doctrines concerning Christ’s identity and salvation. Neither is the belief articulated or consciously thought through. It exists, nevertheless in a subtle, almost unconscious form.
I am referring to a superstition regarding our clergy, specifically the belief in a professional minister. I do not use the term “professional” in the generic sense, but rather in its common usage, namely the assumption that clergymen are experts on Christianity. Such a professional is distinguished from other Christians by his skills, his gifts, his knowledge and his piety. He is expected to know the scriptures better than anyone in the congregation. His relationship with God is seen as being on a somewhat higher plateau, made possible by a “spiritual antenna” which gets far greater “reception” than the “laity.”
“Now hold on,” you may be saying to yourself. “I don’t believe any such nonsense. I have a solid relationship with Jesus. He speaks to me as often as any pastor and the scriptures were written for anyone to study. This ‘widespread heresy’ is your own imagination. After all, I hear many pastors declare from their pulpits that everyone in the body of Christ has received a gift and is called to minister.”
Yes, I agree, the heresy is never taught. In fact, the opposite is preached quite frequently. Our conscious doctrines are also clean. However, to coin an old phrase, actions speak louder than words, and in these actions our hidden beliefs find expression.
Examples of the Problem
What happens to a congregation when their pastor resigns and moves to a new location? I think we’ve all seen what happens. A pulpit committee starts searching for a new pastor. This quest might very well last a year or even longer. In the meantime, the church views itself as being “on hold” or “in suspended animation” until a new “full time man” can be found. An interim minister might be called to keep things above water or perhaps there is some responsible lay leadership during this time of transition. In either case, most programs are viewed as moderate, temporary, and expendable. They exist for the purpose of maintaining order and hope until the new pastor arrives to save the day. He will start all over again by laying a fresh foundation filled with “exciting plans and structures.”
Between the old guard and the new, many churches have been known to literally fall apart. Masses of frustrated people look for fulfillment elsewhere and transfer their membership. The surviving “faithful remnant” look to the rainbow, that blessed day when the pulpit committee will finally deliver so that they can be a normal church once again.
Why the sudden chaos when our Pastor Brown receives a new call and vacates the parsonage? Actually, we shouldn’t be surprised that things have fallen apart. We expected as much. Pastor Brown was always viewed as the glue that held us together. Perhaps he used to tell us that we all had a share in the ministry, but who preached every Sunday morning? Who preached every Sunday night? Who taught the Wednesday night Bible study? Who did all of the counseling? Who ministered to the elderly and the shut-ins? Who presided over the business meetings? Who did the most visitation and most evangelism? No wonder the body of Christ isn’t visible anymore. It seems like the whole body, personified in our former professional minister, got up and walked out the door. But after all, he was hired to do all those things, wasn’t he? If not, how would he have spent his time and why should he have been paid?
There are other ways in which churches express belief in the professional minister. To be honest, I have witnessed such examples first hand simply because people know that I hold the occupation of “pastor.” Yes, it’s true-confession time: I, who question the existence of a “distinguished man of God” am viewed that way by many people. But it is precisely these experiences which triggered my objection. Quite frankly, I am tired of being viewed as the one who is a spiritual notch or two above the “common Christian.”
When I agree to do a wedding and am invited to the rehearsal dinner, I could write the forthcoming scenario with pinpoint accuracy.
“Can I have everybody’s attention? We’re going to give thanks for the food now. Since we have a minister with us, it only seems fitting to let him give the blessing.”
A harmless dinner? A sincere request? Perhaps, but I don’t think I’m being overly sensitive. The people mean well and I love them dearly, but such small incidents add up to reveal interesting patterns of thought.
Certainly many of the relatives at such dinners are not even Christians at all, so there’s a point where we could excuse their misunderstanding, but somehow their images of ministers were fashioned for them by today’s church, and I have met few evangelicals who do not have similar attitudes.
I’ll never forget the time I was expressing appreciation to a church trustee who had kindly fixed my lemon of a car. He refused to take money (to my embarrassment and delight) so I asked him to please call me if I could ever do him a favor.
“Well, there is something you can do for me Bob…” At which time he proceeded to share his concern for an unsaved loved one. What he wanted was my prayer.
That a Christian would ask another brother for prayer is right and biblical, but I’m convinced this man thought he was getting a “special intercession” simply because it was coming from a pastor. To feel that any one person in the congregation can offer a better prayer than others cuts sharply against he central New Testament teaching on the body of Christ. Perhaps this sounds harmless when we talk about well-worded, well-received prayer, but there’s a great danger beneath these “innocent assumptions.”
A few years ago I taught a seminar on dating sexuality and marriage from a Christian perspective. During one of the discussion periods a young lady asked if it was sinful for Christians to flirt as a means of telling somebody that you find them attractive.
“Wouldn’t it be better,” she asked, “to have a more direct, transparent communication.”
“Well,” I answered, “direct communication is fine, but the Bible doesn’t say one word about flirting, so I would hesitate to make a dogmatic remark. In my opinion, for what it’s worth, a limited amount of flirting is harmless and fun.” (I was of course distinguishing the word flirting from seducing.)
“Well,” she said, “I go to Grace Church and it’s a good church and they say that any kind of flirting is wrong.”
Now I don’t know what your opinion is on flirting, but I would like you to stop for a moment and observe her line of reasoning.
I go to Grace Church and it’s a good church and they say that flirting of any kind is wrong.”
My comment about scriptural silence on flirting meant nothing to her. It was as though she didn’t even hear me. The girl had developed a great respect for her pastor. He was an ordained seminary graduate, a spiritual pillar in her eyes. As a result, she concluded that if the pastor says something, it must be true.
Don’t get me wrong. I believe it is good and important to respect your leaders. But when his words become the final authority, the divine interpretation of scripture, a frightening “truth process” is taking place.
I’m grateful that many churches teach with accuracy, but as Christians we should be on guard — we must never develop our theology the way cults develop theirs. For example, Mormons believe in polytheism, the existence of billions of gods. Why? Because their prophets say so and for no other reason. Christians, on the other hand, believe in one Trinitarian God. Why? Because the Bible says so? Well, the Trinity is Biblical, but most Christians believe in the Trinity because they were taught to believe in the Trinity, not necessarily because they did a thorough, investigative Bible study. This is an example of believing the right thing for the wrong reasons.
With an obvious doctrine like the Trinity, which meets with universal agreement amongst evangelicals, the deeper problem may not seem so disturbing. In fact, each of the previous examples may look trivial enough when viewed by itself, but take a moment to add up these observations.
Pastors are being viewed as the primary workers in the church, the final authority on doctrine, and the closest to God. Even though we will always find Christians who do not hold such a perspective, I’m convinced that the church at large carries a crippling heretical disease.
To be continued……
NOTE:
This article is only a small portion of a much larger chapter in A Call To Radical Discipleship, by Bob Siegel, published by Campus Ambassadors Press 1997
