A Holy Week
Do you remember the comic strip in which Dennis the Menace asks his minister, “So, Pastor, you work Sundays and the other six days, you just hang out?” Dennis asks a fair question. Sometimes even I wonder what I do during the other six days, and “just hanging out” might be as good a description of pastoral ministry as any other.
What do you think a priest does during the week? What do you think St. Paul’s pays me to do? As Dennis’s question implies, most of my work revolves around Sunday mornings. Sundays are the principal day when Christians gather. Not every parish follows that rhythm, and there are plenty of people at St. Paul’s for whom Sunday-morning worship is not possible, but I see far more of our parishioners on Sunday mornings than at any other time. It makes sense, therefore, that Sundays are a big part of my job, but, like you, my vocation—my calling—is more than a one-day-a-week occupation.
Part of my job is to pray. I say my prayers every morning. I pray when people come to meet with me in my office. I pray with people at bedsides and in living rooms and on the phone. I pray when I get an email from someone in the parish who asks for prayer. I pray before leading a Bible study. I pray when I think about someone I have not seen in a while. I pray when I read about an earthquake, a mass shooting, or a terrorist attack. Some of my prayers are offered in worship services or in other public settings. Mostly, though, I pray by myself. Prayer is part of my job.
Another part of my job is to read the Bible. Every morning, I read the lessons appointed for the day and then the readings for the upcoming Sunday. If I am preaching that week, I read Sunday’s lessons several times each day. When I am getting ready for a Bible study or an adult forum, I read not only the text we are studying but also commentaries that help me understand better what we are reading. When I am preparing for a sermon, I read not only the lessons that will be read in church but also the surrounding verses, any thematically related passages, as well as secondary sources, including other preachers’ sermons. I also read the Bible for fun. Reading and studying God’s Word is part of my job.
Another part of my job is to hang out with people. I make a point of stopping by staff offices to see how my colleagues are doing. I try to engage guests in or around the Welcome Center in brief conversation. I aim to spend a moment or two with volunteers in the office each day. I like to linger after a worship service and hear how the Altar Guild members are doing. I like to say hello to people at Wednesday-night dinner or Sunday-morning breakfast. I meet people out for coffee. Sometimes I give people rides home from the hospital. Occasionally I will spend time by the playground during Choir Club or in the kitchen while dinner is being prepped. Sometimes there is an agenda for the time I spend with people, but more often I am just hanging around to see how they are doing. Spending time with parishioners and visitors is part of my job.
Every month, I share with the vestry a breakdown of how I have spent my time. Following the example of my boss and mentor, I list the number of services, sermons, classes, pastoral visits, premarital counseling sessions, outreach appointments, and other quantifiable events to demonstrate where I have focused my attention during the previous month. While the list gives a general sense of what has kept me busy, there are lots of things that I have no way of conveying in writing. How do you measure an impromptu conversation about a cancer diagnosis in the parking lot? Should I count the number of smiles that are returned when I smile warmly at strangers in the grocery store?
One of the curious things about being a priest is that the church technically does not pay me a salary; it gives me a stipend. In short, I am not paid for the work that I do. Instead, I am given financial support so that I can engage in the work and ministry I accepted as my vocation when I was ordained a priest.
Historically, a clergy stipend was only enough to provide adequate living expenses for the cleric and his family. While that is still the case in some denominations, clergy in The Episcopal Church typically are paid with respect to how long they have been ordained and how many people are in their congregation, as evidenced by the diocesan minimums for clergy compensation. In other words, clergy like me, who serve in senior positions, are often paid significantly more than we need to get by, which suggests that my stipend is, at least partly, compensation for the particular work I do. Still, although it would be hard for me to justify giving up on Sunday-morning worship, St. Paul’s does not pay me for the sermons I preach or the services I lead but for being among you as one who preaches and leads worship.
Some of the work that I do is distinct to ordained ministry, but most of what I do could be done by anyone. As a priest, I declare God’s absolution, pronounce God’s blessing, and ask God to consecrate the elements of bread and wine in Holy Communion—the distinct ABCs of priestly ministry—but just about everything else could be done by a lay person. Although unusual nowadays, lay people can be licensed by the bishop to preach, evangelize, lead worship, and teach baptism and confirmation classes. Although the prayer for the gifts of the Holy Spirit must be said by a priest or a bishop, technically any Christian can baptize another person. I have been trained to study the Bible, write sermons, and provide pastoral care, but there are people at St. Paul’s who know more far more about scripture, public speaking, and counseling than I do.
Perhaps, more than anything else, my job is to represent God and God’s church in all of my encounters. In the same way that my stipend implies that I am not compensated for specific work, I am also not allowed to be off the clock. I am a priest not only in church on Sunday mornings and Wednesday nights but also at the football game on Saturday, in the grocery store on Tuesday night, and out birding on my day off. Trust me: that is not as hard as it sounds. I get plenty of time out of the spotlight to take care of myself and my family. The point I want to make is that, in a very real way, my job is no different from yours.
Although you (probably) do not get paid for it, you are also called to represent God and God’s church in all of your encounters. Followers of Jesus are not allowed to take time off from being a Christian. You may go to church every single Sunday, but your faith cannot be confined to one day a week. As George Herbert wrote in a poem that has become a beloved hymn, “Sev’n whole dayes, not one in seven, I will praise thee. In my heart, though not in heaven, I can raise thee.”
You, too, are supposed to say your prayers, read the Bible, and spend time in Christian community with others every day. Not only can most of my job be done by you, most of what I get paid to do should be done by you. The privilege of being a full-time priest is that I get paid to be faithful. Your job is harder. You need to be faithful while getting paid to do something else. You must be an equally faithful teacher, lawyer, nurse, advocate, therapist, farmer, accountant, parent, sibling, spouse, friend. Living a life that is devoted to God is not the unique pursuit of the clergy. It is a universal calling. If there is anything distinct about my vocation, it may be that my job is to hold you to it.
Clergy may do most of their work on Sundays, but they are called to be faithful seven days a week. So are you. In fact, though it may sound strange, your principal calling is to honor God with your whole life. You can do that in almost any occupation, but, for those who do not get paid to be faithful, it requires extra effort. Such full-time faithfulness often goes unnoticed by others but not by God.
Yours faithfully,
Evan D. Garner
