And on a similar yet unrelated note, it kind of bothers me when the "big" pastors lecture their people about how they're not celebrities. They are celebrities. It sucks, but it's true. They're recognizable, draw crowds and you can't get within arms reach of them. Celebrities.
It bugs me particularly because after podcasting numerous preachers for months, I've become attached to a few of them, and a couple of them have been the best teachers to me, which I think says a lot. They're particular people that my brain meshes with and that doesn't happen often. But being that they're celebrities, odds are, I'd never get to thank them for it or talk to them in person aside from screaming fanatical messages ten people deep in a crowd.
I did get to shake one of my favorite pastors' hand though. He was mostly in a rushed haze, whizzing by between sermons, but still...
And I did get to thank (or at least acknowledge) two of them, my two favorites, on twitter at Christmastime- on Christmas morning, no less. And they replied...
That totally made my day. So much so that I print screened like three screens into paint to make that collage of awesome to remember it. (Sorry, it ended up tiny for some reason when I imported it from the other, other blog.)
So yeah, they are celebrities, especially if we get giddy when they pay attention to us for a half a second. The difference is though, even though they're busy and popular and are under tons of pressure, they do it for us, for our salvation and for God's glory, not their own. Well, the good ones anyway. And I don't doubt that from their end too, they feel deprived of knowing me. :D Hehe, ok, that totally came out far more narcissistic than I anticipated. I meant "me" in more general terms. I mean, for God's glory, sure, it's great to reach a massive flock, but on a personal level, it must suck to end up confined to a tiny group because you end up surrounded by church groupies and strangers who claim to know you. It must suck to not be able to care for everybody and to have to delegate that away, when there are people that you would adore if you had simply had the chance to somehow cut through the crowds and accidentally meet them.
I'm sure I'm not the only one who has felt slighted by being passed off to sort of "runners up" assistants and such. I mean, after you get to know them, you learn they do an awesome job and the awesome pastors do pick pretty great people to represent them, but still, the initial reaction is the same and it's terrible and full of [undeserved] resentment. It's like the pastor is untouchable, unreachable and you're not important enough to break through that barrier. You're just another of the thousands. A nobody.
But after a while, after dealing with assistants and associates and lesser known pastors, I've come to rely on them a great deal and now I'm always all giddy when I see their reply in my inbox because I know that even if it's not their voice I've been hearing for the past while, they do work effing hard to help us out and in the end, to help us feel less slighted, which is a pretty awesome feat, especially for an all-or-nothing stubborn girl like me. And in the end, the head pastor is actually caring for us by setting us up with awesome people who are accessible.
I remember my first reply from an associate pastor. (Or, really, whatever they're called. I still don't know the titles. I mean, I know his specific title, but is there a general word for "not head pastor, but next best guy"? I figure it's like university. Anyway.) It was well over a year ago, I think. And what I didn't realize is that there was a pastor at one of the churches I listened to who had the same name as the head teaching pastor but with one letter different, and so when I got the email from him, I was all, "Wow. They could have at least spelled the pastor's name right, no?" and I was all offended at the "fake" message, not realizing it was from an entirely different person, rather than a message from an assistant of some kind pretending to be the head pastor. And as horrible as I was in jumping to conclusions, especially about their honesty (how embarrassingly terrible in hindsight), this pastor with the one letter different would end up being such a sweet and caring person to me and was ultimately the one who'd dunk me in August (*blushes* because I know that might add names to this story for those who were there. I'm horrible. I know.). It really was kind of symbolic that it was him, I think.
They do their best, you know? Well, the good ones anyway. (I always feel the need to add that clause.) And so far, even though I'm at least a thousand miles away from my closest favorite one, I have never been forgotten when I really needed guidance.
Like on Christmas day. You can't tell me pastors aren't ridiculously busy on Christmas day. And here I am, in what somebody on mission here in Montreal called "a spiritual desert" earlier today even, and I just wanted to know I wasn't wrong, you know? I needed a little bit of Jesus before heading out for Christmas dinner with my atheist family. And the funny thing was, when they replied, it wasn't actually about them them paying attention to me. It was Jesus I thanked instead for giving me exactly what I needed that day. It wasn't about the pastors acknowledging me, rather a kind of... accidental pre-game dialog? Like, "Ok, it's Christmas. You guys taught me well. Let's do this day, even if I'm alone here," and they answered, "Let's do it!" You know? Deep down, I needed to know that I wasn't alone in this thing and Jesus took the time to make my teachers take the time to answer that one tweet to reassure me in the most personally blatant way possible (i.e. through caring for me) that particular day, even when I really had no expectations from wishing my favorite pastors a Merry Christmas (mostly because of altruism and a tiny bit associated to their celebrity status). Twitter was dead that morning, and I just wanted to thank them on a kind of day when people forget how hard pastors work and how much they sacrifice while trying to guide us. An important day to remember them, I'd say.
But that's the thing we can't forget though- the good ones, the ones diligently working for the kingdom, aren't working independently. If they're really doing God's work, then God will work through them and through their team. And so the things we adore and risk worshiping in our favorite pastors are probably not in them at all, but come through them instead. They might say things differently or contextualize things in a way that we learn quicker, understand more clearly or relate to more, but in the end, the important words are not their words at all, right?
And even if I feel neglected sometimes, an invisible member of a giant flock, I'm still grateful that there is this handful of amazing teachers who have reached me and taught me and guided me in spite of my location, in spite of their schedule and in spite of myself. I'm grateful for their example, striving to be godly men, living their broken lives as best they can for God's glory, suffering well, and just giving us hope that with Jesus we can get to a place of trust, growth and progressive sanctification.
Thank God for pastors. Well, the good ones anyway...
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