But doesn’t every pastor have to be an administrator, even if that’s not his gift?
Peterson: Every pastor has to make sure administration gets done. If you can’t see to it that it does get done, you’re in trouble. Pastoring in the twentieth century requires two things: One, to be a pastor, and two, to run a church. They aren’t the same thing. Every seminary ought to take their pastoral students and say, “Look, God has called you to be a pastor, and we want to teach you how to be pastors. But the fact is that when you go out to get a job, chances are they’re not going to hire just a pastor, they’re going to hire somebody to run the church. Now, we’ll show you how to run a church, and if you master what we’re telling you, you can probably do it in ten to twelve hours a week. That’s the price you’re going to pay to be in the position of pastor.”
What are some of the things you do to pay that price?
Peterson: I return telephone calls promptly. I answer my mail quickly. I put out a weekly newsletter. I think that’s essential. When the parish newsletter comes out once a week, the people sense you’re on top of things; they see their names and what’s going on. It’s good public relations.
Couldn’t you do this with the Sunday bulletin?
Peterson: No, because too many people would miss it. Every week our one-page newsletter assures the congregation everything is under control. If you want to keep your job, people have to believe the church is running okay.
How does a pastor develop communication with his congregation?
Peterson: I’m not quite sure how it’s taken place with me. Leveling with your elders is important. Many times during my ministry I told my elders how I felt, what I was going through, my sense of ministry, what was important to me, and what I felt I wasn’t doing well. Twelve years ago I quit, because I just didn’t think I could meet the expectations I set up for myself. I assumed they had the same expectations, but I was wrong. They didn’t want me to burn out.
What else can a pastor do?
Peterson: Periodically confer with the leadership of your church and say what is really on your mind. They have a right to the kind of pastor they feel they need. Maybe the combination isn’t right. I think there has to be that sense of expendability I’ve been surprised at how responsive the people in my congregation have been when I’ve shared these things.
How does that communication begin? Who can pastors talk to? There certainly isn’t time in a board meeting.
Peterson: I haven’t solved that problem, but for the most part, I think it’s spontaneous. Several times in my ministry when I felt things weren’t going well, I’ve selected people from the congregation and asked if they would meet with me three or four times. “I’m not quite sure what is going one with me,” I’ve said, “but I’m concerned about the ministry of the church. I want to be the best pastor I can, and I’m confused. Would you let me talk to you?” I’ve made these groups small, five or six people who are in leadership positions, and they are always people who are in touch with the congregation. Sometimes I just need to share my concerns. But sometimes these people have given me solid direction, too.
A number of churches have a group that meets monthly to be sounding board for the pastor, to really hear his concerns, and perhaps to be an ombudsman for him. How would you feel about setting up such a group?
Peterson: I’d feel good about that!
In your weekly meeting with your local ministers, what are the biggest problems you hear?
Peterson: Family and marital problems. I’d say these are the most painful things in terms of pastoral crisis. Another one, which doesn’t have the same sense of acuteness, is the feeling of inadequacy. When pastors don’t have large congregations or don’t receive affirmation from their people, it’s very difficult for them to provide creative spiritual leadership. In fact, considering the little affirmation many receive, I marvel that it’s done at all. One of the key ministries of lay persons is affirmation of their leaders.
Can you recall times when affirmation boosted your sense of growth?
Peterson: Yes, although a lot of those things are subtle and small, and they just accumulate. I’ve been teaching at a Roman Catholic seminary. I’ve done this for two years, and I’m still a little uneasy. I’m in a foreign territory, so I’m never sure I’m doing a good job. Last week I conducted a class, and I didn’t do a very good job. I just didn’t teach very well. I spent most of the period letting the class talk about how they were feeling about Scripture instead of giving them content. I have one student, a nun, who has a Ph.D. She is very sharp and knows more a bout the subject than I do. I’m afraid she feels she’s not getting her money’s worth. However, she called me up two days after the class and said, “I just want to tell you your class is the best thing that’s ever happened to me here. It’s nice to see this subject matter not just as academic symbols on the chalkboard, but as part of my personal development as a Christian.” That really boosted me; the one person I felt I was letting down told me something was happening to her spiritually. That was great affirmation. I could go for a long time on that.
How do you find ways of getting your own affirmation without being dependent on the compliments of others?
Peterson: I think it has to do with discovering my need for spiritual nurture and making sure I get it. Prayer is very important for me—I can’t function without it.
How does your prayer life work?
Peterson: In the mornings I spend a couple of hours alone with the Lord. I get up at 6:00 and put a pot of coffee on. Very often I do nothing except pray the Psalms—I’ve always loved them. They’ve been the church’s prayerbook for a long time. There’s an old kind of a monastic nostalgia in me; in some of the monasteries all they did was pray the Psalms. I also read the New Testament, and then after an hour and a half or so I sometimes read something else or write. If I start writing, I often write for a couple of hours.
Mondays are important. For the first few years of my ministry I never took a day off. There were too many “important” things to do. Now my wife and I leave the house and go hiking in the woods for the whole day, regardless of the weather. We pack a lunch and take our binoculars for bird watching. We’ve been doing that every Monday for twelve years. It’s important for both of us because it’s a completely different environment and something we both enjoy doing. In the morning it’s a quiet time when we can just be ourselves as well as get in touch with ourselves. At lunch we talk, and then often keep on for the rest of the afternoon.
What role has your wife played in your ministry?
Peterson: A very prominent and strong one, for it’s been a shared ministry. She’s a marvelous entertainer, and we have people in our home often. She’s a master at making people feel at home, and she’s good about caring for them. She’s really helped create a sense of community in our church.
I told you that when we arrived, one of our goals was to develop spiritual community. I thought it would be pretty easy: we’d get these people in our home, pray together, sing some hymns, and we’d have it. Well, it just didn’t happen. Sometimes we felt we were making progress, but it never really happened. Then a young woman in our congregation died of cancer. She was thirty-one years old and had six children. About a month after she died, the father was discharged from his job and then lost his house. We took those kids into our home. Suddenly things started happening. Food would appear on our doorstep; people would call up and take the kids out and entertain them. It was almost as if we came to a place of critical mass. Then it just exploded, and we suddenly had community in the congregation. It didn’t fizzle out either. The hospitality increased and people took an interest in each other. It seemed almost like a miracle, and it took just one incident to trigger it. All our earlier attempts to create community now bore fruit because of the meeting of a need that wasn’t part of our strategy.
How can other churches develop community?
Peterson: It’s very difficult to get, and there’s not much community in our country. Most of our relationships with each other are based on needs, or roles imposed on us. There’s no shortcut to true community. We’re immersed in a transactional society where we trade things off, exchange things, and consume things. To get to the point where we’re open and vulnerable enough to just be with people is not all that easy. But the thing that is prominent in my mind now is that at our church we did everything we could think of to develop community, and it didn’t develop. We did one thing that wasn’t part of the strategy, and success, if you want to call it that, came.
An overweening, or overbearing, desire to be successful, it seems to me, inhibits attainment of true community and true success. It prevents us from doing things that are risky, that we can fail at.
Does a long pastorate help in developing community?
Peterson: It’s certainly not the secret formula that ensures success. There are a lot of dangers in a long pastorate.
Such as?
Peterson: You do what meets the congregation’s expectations so you can develop a comfortable society where you’re all nice to each other. Or you do good work and the people come to respect you, and then it’s easy to quit growing and bask in those past accomplishments. There’s also the very real danger of becoming too important to people—your goal is to develop in them a sense of maturity, independence, first-handedness with God.
The other side of the coin is how do you develop community except in a long-term situation? It took about five years before that first incident happened for our church. Only in the last six or seven years have I really felt community is starting to take place. I can now sense that I’m pastor of a community of people, not just a collection of neighbors.
The End
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