Let's not have any godtalk

“Dear brothers and sisters, not many of you should become teachers in the church, for we who teach will be judged by God with greater strictness” (James 3:1). One of the responsibilities of being a teacher is to pass on knowledge; a Christian teacher, Christian knowledge. Heresy emerges from time to time because of distorted knowledge. We pastors are teachers even though we are more than teachers. But teaching is our primary task, for the church needs to be educated with and edified by the Scripture. The Scripture needs to be taught systematically, theologically, and regularly.  If we pastors fail to fulfill this pastoral task, we fail our pastorate. (This is how I see it.)

“All Scripture is inspired by God and is useful to teach us what is true and to make us realize what is wrong in our lives. It straightens us out and teaches us to do what is right. It is God’s way of preparing us in every way, fully equipped for every good thing God wants us to do” (2 Tim. 3:16-17). We know that we are morally, spiritually, and theologically wrong because the Scripture is being taught and expounded. The exposition of the Scripture confronts our self-righteousness and cleanses us by the Holy Spirit (Titus 3:5). This is God’s ordained way to prepare and equip us. If we pastors fail to help brothers and sisters encounter the Word of God through teaching, we basically fail our pastorate.

In Knowing Christ Today: Why We Can Trust Spiritual Knowledge (New York: HarperOne, 2009), Dallas Willard wrote,

“Who is to bring the knowledge that will answer the great life questions that perplex humanity? Who is to teach the world—the ‘nations,’ people of all kinds—the knowledge that belongs to Christ and his people? In any subject matter the responsibility to teach falls upon those who have the corresponding knowledge. With respect to Christian knowledge, the primary responsibility to teach falls upon those who self-identify as spokespeople for Christ and who perhaps have some leadership position or role in Christian organizations. I shall use the word ‘pastors’ for such people, but the word is here to be taken very broadly; it refers not just to those who hold a position with that title—though it is especially for them” (p. 193).

"The task of followers of Christ is to know Christ and, in knowing him, to make knowledge of God and of life in God available to those around them. That is what responsible people do with knowledge of any important subject. If you have knowledge on any matter of great importance to human beings, it is your duty to make that knowledge available to others. If you know the house is on fire, you must share your knowledge with others. If you know where the bargains are, you tell your friends. If you know how to stop global warming or cure cancer, you have a duty to share that knowledge. Not so of your mere opinions, feelings, or decisions about such matters” (p. 195).

We pastors are entrusted with the knowledge of the Gospel. We pass it on with care and conviction. Teaching the Scripture in a systematic and theological way is our sacred task.

In The Pastor: A Memoir (New York: HarperOne, 2011), Eugene Peterson told a story:

“Charity, at the time I met her, was a plump, bold, cute, and highly verbal five-year-old. She lived in a city halfway across the country. I knew her through her grandparents. When I visited in their home, I sometimes would get to talk with Charity. It was her grandmother, Brenda, who told me this story.  Brenda had taken the train to visit her daughter and son-in-law, Charity’s parents. Charity’s other grandmother had left the day before, after an extended visit, returning to her home in New England. I had never met this other grandmother but knew she took her grandmothering duties very seriously."

"The morning after my friend Brenda’s arrival, Charity came into her bedroom at five o’clock, crawled into bed with her, cuddled up, and said, ‘Grandmother, let’s not have any godtalk while you are here, okay? I believe that God is everywhere. Let’s just get on with life.’"

"When Brenda told me that story, I knew that Charity was onto something. It coincided with the awareness that was developing in the refining fire that was tempering my pastoral vocation in the badlands. It was the word ‘godtalk.’ What Charity was onto was that life is the country that Christians live in, frequently named in the Psalms as ‘land of the living.’ And what she was also onto was that when the life leaks out of what we say and write, teach and pray—especially when we are using sterile, lifeless language that objectifies words like God, Jesus, prayer, believe—we are left with nothing but godtalk” (p. 240).

How many times does our pastoral sacred task become “godtalk”?