Recently, I was asked the question: ‘ Do you think generally that our clergy understand and know what the people on the street are going through, how they think, what are their concerns?’
The short answer is a resounding NO! Clergy have absolutely no idea what people on the street are going through.
Here’s a longer answer, to justify this sweeping observation.
I was ordained early in 1985. I had a fairly unique experience. I was not required to do any theological education as my Melbourne College of Divinity qualification was deemed sufficient theological education. This meant that the gap between working in a bookshop in the main street of Geelong, and wearing a dog collar as a curate at All Saints Newtown, visiting aged care facilities and parishioners was three days — finished in the bookshop on Wednesday, attended a three day retreat for ordinands, and started at All Saints on Sunday, ordained (as I recall) the day before by David Penman in St Paul’s Cathedral, Melbourne.
I happened to be President of the Belmont Traders Association when I was ordained, so very much in touch with the bread and butter issues that concern shop owners and managers. Instantly, my contact with the real world of commercial life ceased. I was sent to Aged Care homes in the care of the parish — quite a number of them where I administered the reserved sacrament to a large number of residents. I spent a fair bit of time preparing sermons — I preached every Sunday. I did a lot of visiting. I helped prepare for a truly dreadful stewardship campaign. And on the occasions I did visit my former shop keeper colleagues, I may as well have been a little green man from Mars. They were just not interested in talking to me.
I did insist on visiting people in their work places if at all possible. I vividly recall visiting one man who was the safety officer at the Pivot Phosphate Co. He told me about one occasion when he helped pull the body of an employee out of a phosphate crushing line he had fallen into! It rather changed my perspective on this man. Visiting at work places is one rare way in which clergy can keep in touch with people’s daily concerns.
Things were not much different when I arrived in Canberra. I had been offered the position of Director of Lay Education at St Mark’s Canberra, the theological training institution for the local diocese. The role which I developed was to encourage churches to adopt courses I commissioned and produced for use in their small groups. In less than a year into this role, the head of St Mark’s left, and was replaced by the newly installed assistant bishop. He re-assigned me to clerical duties. One parish wanted me as their minister, but the local diocesan biishop wouldn’t have a bar of it, and, having had a glimpse of the ‘real politik’ of the church, I eventually resigned.
Now please understand that I was absolutely committed to trying to bridge the gap between clergy and laity. I was passionate about Christianity and daily life (and I still am). I would not have been selected for the job of Director of Lay Education if various influential people had not recognized this passion. However, church structures made it impossible to maintain meaningful contact with ‘the real world’.
And I was 43 years old when I was ordained. By then I had bought and sold a number of houses, I had worked in a number of different jobs, I had lived in a number of different locations. I had been unemployed for five months. In others words I had heaps of experience in the real world.
Ministers do not face the same pressures as the rest of us. They have a security of tenure that people employed outside the church do not have — could only dream about. Relieving a minister of his job in the Anglican Church is a very torturous affair, and I have not heard of a minister being sacked for a very long time. Sadly, in one church I was associated with, a dispute arose between the incumbent minister and an associate minister, which could only be resolved by both leaving the parish. I recall that his position as incumbent meant he simply could not be sacked. I found the following on the Sydney Diocese website: ‘ . . . (The) clergyman is regarded as self-employed, and the continuous enjoyment of his right is strongly protected by law and customs. However unpopular he may become with parishioners or bishop, he cannot be removed from the position he holds under normal circumstances’.
How different from people in the non-church workforce! I have twice been sacked — on the spot, escorted out the door immediately — and by Christian employers! I spent five months unemployed after one such sacking.
I recently encountered a church that had employed a very young guy to help with youth work. Some time ago, at a church post-service lunch, I found myself sitting at the same table as him. I asked him what his plans for the future were. He said he planned to join the ministry and would train at Moore (I think). I asked him how old he was, and I think he said 19. In the course of discussion it transpired that he had come straight to the church from school, and would go straight to theological college. I was incredulous (and let him know it!). I asked him if he thought it was appropriate for someone to be ordained who had never held down a job in the secular world and had a precisely zero experience of life outside of the church. It was an embarrassing discussion! I can’t believe that the leadership of any church, including the Parish Council, would employ such an inexperienced person. Perhaps I should not be surprised as it appears that the incumbent in this particular church started his ministerial life at the age of 22.
I recount all this because if ANY clergyman was a candidate to understand what people in the street were going through, then I was.
I put together a snapshot of some local clergy — doing some research using the Anglican Directory.
I checked out seven local clergy, all known to me, and found that with one exception, all were ordained in their twenties, and in all cases, this was at least thirty years ago. These people, and their ilk, have absolutely zero understanding of what people in the street are going through.
Oddly enough, the exception sort of proves the rule. I recently heard a sermon on Romans 13:1-7 which begins ‘Let every person be subject to the governing authorities. For there is no authority except from God, and those that exist have been instituted by God. Therefore whoever resists the authorities resists what God has appointed, and those who resist will incur judgment’. It was without question far and away the best sermon I have ever heard from the pulpit of this particular church. The preacher started with three really tough scenarios from real life, where it is impossible to obey the government. The sermon caused such a stir that the church put on a seminar to help people resolve the complexities and seemingly irreconcilable issues that the sermon raised. The point is that the sermon DID raise a whole raft of real world issues that people are grappling with every day. The sermon did leave me asking why on earth can’t we have such wonderful, practical sermons dealing with real life issues every Sunday, especially if they are followed up by opportunities for further discussion.
The initial question strikes at the heart of the most fundamental flaw in the whole concept of ordained ministry — setting people apart for ministry. The trouble is that setting people apart for ministry also sets them apart from ordinary everyday life. Their ability to understand and empathize with ordinary people is greatly compromised. It is the main reason I have been advocating house churches. Ministry as understood in the New Testament is peer to peer, ministry given and received by people in the warp and woof of everyday life, who we understand are gifted by God for the purpose of ministering to one another and building one another up.