The Importance of Pastoral Labor
Great number of volumes have been written on the art of preaching. Lectures on Homiletics have been multiplied until they would form a respectable library. But a large part of the labors of every settled minister lies outside of the pulpit. They embrace the whole sphere of his personal intercourse with his flock, his care of the sick and the suffering, his dealings with awakened or doubting or troubled souls, his organization of christian work, his development of the spiritual life of the church, and his executive oversight of all its manifold activities. Upon this vitally important side of ministerial life the current literature is quite scanty.
Richard Baxter’s “Reformed Pastor” is a classic of undisputed value; but it is now more seldom studied than it ought to be, and the circumstances in which modern ministers are placed, are very different from those which surrounded the immortal “bishop” of Kidderminster. About forty years ago (in 1850) Dr. Ichabod Smith Spencer, of Brooklyn, issued a very remarkable work entitled “A Pastor’s Sketches,” which attracted wide attention and admiration. It was devoted to a narrative of specific “cases of conscience,” and of conversation with anxious inquirers; his dealings with whom exhibited a most surprising sagacity. Other volumes more or less similar to Dr. Spencer’s brilliant book, have been published. There still seems to be, however, a vacant niche for another treatise which shall discuss in the most familiar, colloquial and practical fashion, the every-day
duties of a Christian Pastor. At the solicitation of several of my ministerial brethren, I have been led to undertake such a discussion; and if the results of forty-four years of experience and observation shall prove to be of value to others — especially to my younger brethren — I shall be thankful.
The importance of all that portion of a minister’s work that lies outside of his pulpit can hardly be overestimated. What is the chief object of the christian ministry? It goes without saying that it is to win souls to Jesus Christ. A great element of power with every faithful ambassador of Christ should be heart-power. A majority of all congregations, rich or poor, are reached and influenced, not so much through the intellect as through the affections. This is an encouraging fact; for while only one man in ten may have the talent to become a very great preacher, the other nine, if they love Christ and love human souls, can become great pastors. Nothing gives a minister such heart-power as personal acquaintance with, and personal attentions to those whom he aims to influence; for everybody loves to be noticed. Especially is personal sympathy welcome in seasons of trial. Let a pastor make himself at home in everybody’s home; let him come often and visit their sick rooms, and kneel beside their empty cribs, and their broken hearts, and pray with them; let him go to the business men in his congregation when they have suffered reverses and give them a word of cheer; let him be quick to recognize the poor, and the children — and he will weave a cord around the hearts of his people that will stand a prodigious pressure. His inferior sermons — (for every minister is guilty of such occasionally) — will be kindly condoned, and he can launch the most pungent truths at his auditors and they will not take offense. He will have won their hearts to himself, and that is a great step towards drawing them to the house of God, and winnine their souls to the Saviour. “A house-going minister” said Chalmers, “makes a church-going people.”
Never must the chief end of a minister’s labors be lost sight of. It is to awaken the careless, to warn the endangered, to comfort the sorrowing, to help the weak, and to edify believers; — in short to make bad people good, and good people better. Preaching strong gospel-sermons is one of the most effective means to this end; but it is not the only means. Outside of the pulpit every messenger of Christ can come to close quarters with each individual soul, and preach eye to eye; nobody can dodge such preaching or fall to sleep under it. If the shepherd can only save the sheep, by going after the sheep, then woe be unto him if he neglect his duty! As many souls are won to Jesus Christ outside of the pulpit, as in the pulpit. I am firmly persuaded that if many a minister would take part of the time that he now spends in polishing his discourses, or in miscellaneous studies and would devote it to pastoral visitation he would have larger congregations, and a far larger number of conversions to Christ. He would be a healthier man for the physical exercise of going from house to house; he would be a more fluent speaker from the practice he would gain in personal conversation; he would become a much more tender, eloquent and heart-moving ambassador of his Master.
There is one potent argument for close pastoral intercourse with his congregation that many ministers are in danger of ignoring, or of underestimating. Every pulpit needs to be vitalized by close contact with living people, rather than with lifeless books; and the best practical discourses are those which the congregation help their minister to prepare. His books teach him many truths in the abstract; his people can teach him those and many more truths in the concrete. By constant and loving intercourse with the individuals of his flock, he becomes acquainted with their peculiarities, and thus enlarges his knowledge of human nature, which is second only to a knowledge of God’s Word. He discovers also their spiritual wants. He soon becomes convinced that they care most to have clear, strong, practical instruction about their every-day duties,* trials, and temptations. They want to know not only how to save their souls for eternity, but how to save their lives in this world. They want portable truth that they can carry with them into their homes, into their sick rooms, into their storey and shops, and into every nook and corner of daily life. If a minister is a wise man (and neither God nor man has any use for fools), he will be made all the wiser by the thousand suggestions which he can gain from the immortal beings to whom he preaches.
There is about as much human nature in the pulpit as there is in the pew. We all love honest commendation and encouragement. Nothing cheers and helps a pastor more than to have his people say to him during the week, “I thank you for last Sunday’s sermon; it did me solid good; it relieved some of my doubts, it lifted off some of my loads, it comforted me under my heartaches, it brought me nearer to Christ.” Such encouragements not only reveal to us what our people need, but they are an hundred-fold better “pay” than a salary. A very distinguished and evangelical minister once said to me rather sadly, “I don’t get that sort of encouragement once in six months.” Probably the real reason is that he spends so much of. his time in his study, preparing his superb sermons, that he does not go familiarly among his flock, and give them a chance to say such cheering and helpful things. They listen to him, love him, and are proud of him, but are not enough “in touch” with him. And when I have read his masterly discourses, I have often thought that their only lack was the lack of just those tender, close, comforting home-truths which an intimate, personal intercourse with his people would suggest to him. He is a very great preacher, but perhaps would be still greater if he were a pastor-preacher.
In Dundee, I conversed with a gray-headed member of St. Peter’s Presbyterian Church, who, in his youth, listened to the sainted Robert Murray McCheyne. He spoke of him with the deepest reverence and love. But the chief thing that he remembered — -after forty-six years — was that McCheyne, a few days before his death, met him in the street, and, laying his hand on his shoulder, said to him, kindly, “Jimmy, I hope that all is well with your soul. How is your sick sister? I am coming to see her again shortly.” That sentence or two had stuck to the old Christian for over forty years. It had grappled his pastor to him. And this little narrative gave me a fresh insight into the secret of McCheyne’s wonderful power. He was a man of rare spirituality and knowledge of God’s Word; he was a tender, soul-awakening minister of Jesus Christ; his ministry was richly successful; and largely because he kept in l6 HOW TO BE A PASTOR.
touch with his people, and was a pastor as well as a powerful preacher.
Ought every minister to strive to be popular? Yes; if that word be used in its legitimate sense. Of course the mere hunger for applause from selfish motives, is an utter degradation of a high and holy calling. Such unsanctified ambition is a cancer that gnaws away the vitals of every man who falls a prey to it. But there is a laudable desire of popularity. Every herald of God’s Word should strive to “commend himself to every man’s conscience in the sight of God” and to “let no man despise him.” We are told that the common people — i. e. the mass of the people irrespective of social caste — heard Jesus Christ gladly.
To gain the ear and to win the affection of our fellow-men, is as much a part of our duty, as it is to study our Bibles. What is the use of studying the Bible if we cannot get people to hear us expound it? The secret of a legitimate and permanent popularity is this; — first, keep your heart strong
THE IMPORTANCE OF CHURCH WORK, ij
and sweet and loving and courageous by a constant living in Jesus Christ; and secondly, take a personal interest in everybody. To each human being on this globe nobody is quite as important as his own self. This is not egotism or self-conceit; it is an instinct. The poor man who blacks my boots, or saws my wood is a more important person to himself than Bismarck or Gladstone. What becomes of the German or the British Empire is of less consequence to that obscure son of toil than that he should earn a dime to buy his breakfast. This. instinct is universal. Every ambassador of Christ should avail himself of it and use it. He should endeavor to find out the character, condition and needs of every person within his reach. He should put himself into personal sympathy with everybody. The man who is called to proclaim the glorious gospel is bound to preach it winsomely as well as boldly — whether his parish be in a rustic region or in the crowded hive of a great city. Popularity is power. Use it for God!
A western clergyman once addressed to me the inquiry whether “eastern ministers regard pastoral labors as befitting an intellectual and manly ministry?” What the opinion of other “eastern pastors” may be, I cannot affirm; but I have a very decided opinion that the ministry of Paul and his Divine Master were both intellectual and manly. They both devoted a great deal of time and effort to personal interviews — often with very humble individuals. Three of Christ’s most memorable and precious utterances were delivered to a single auditor — Nicodemus, the Samaritan woman, and the rich young ruler. Jesus Christ made a great many pastoral visits. If my western brother means by the word “manly” to describe uncompromising fidelity to conscience in the face of jeers or scoffs, then it is a prime essential in every minister; but it is equally essential that he be womanly in sympathetic tenderness, and childlike in simplicity and meekness. Manliness is a good thing; godliness is still better; imitation of Jesus Christ is best of all.
Perhaps our friend had formed his estimate of pastoral work from the remark of a certain famous preacher that he “had no time to gossip over a cup of tea with old women.” That was his plausible excuse for neglecting to visit his people; but he has paid the penalty for it in the fact that while he has attracted a vast crowd around his brilliant and orthodox pulpit, he has not built up a compact, well-organized money-giving church. I maintain that the upbuilding and perpetuation of a strong working church depends quite as much upon close personal oversight as upon popular preaching. In a solid wall each stone must be handled; each has its place; and the soft “pudding-stones” must be kept out of places where the heavy strain comes. Faithful pastoral labor is quite a different thing from “gossiping from house to house.” It requires brains and patience and consecration to the holy purpose of saving souls. It consumes time; but how can the same time be spent more profitably elsewhere? If any minister of the gospel fancies himself to be too intellectual or too manly to undertake such patient labors for his Master, he has mistaken his calling. He had better take to literature or the lyecum-platform or a chair of philosophy.
It is an encouraging thought that the humblest minister may become a faithful and successful pastor. God never intended that this world should be saved by pulpit geniuses or else He would create more of them. The average Christian must serve this world if it is saved at all. Every herald of the gospel who loves his Master, loves his Bible, loves his fellow-men, and who hungers to win souls to the Saviour, can be a good pastor, if he honestly aims to become one. The Lord Jesus Christ, in this respect as in every other, is our model. “I am the GOOD SHEPHERD; the shepherd knoweth His sheep; He calleth all His sheep by name.”