Although I no longer serve as pastor of a congregation, invitations to preach come my way from time to time. The latest instance was yesterday when I helped a Presbyterian congregation surprise their pastor with the opportunity to worship among them, free of leadership responsibility. The occasion was the thirtieth anniversary of her ordination and the tenth anniversary of her ministry in that place. Not knowing what the lectionary for the day was, I was pleased to learn that they were accustomed to hearing their pastor preach from it. I love the tussle with scripture that pushes me to stay grounded in its teaching while saying something useful about its bearing on our lives today.Â
When I looked at the passage from Hebrew scripture for the morning, I found Isaiah railing at the religious leaders of his time, getting their attention by addressing them as “rulers of Sodom” and “people of Gomorrah.” Great stuff, if you have your next job lined up. Otherwise, a minefield. What about the passage from Christian scripture?  Familiar (and safer) ground here – – but only if you forget Jesus’ own inaugural sermon containing words that eerily echoed those of Isaiah. Jesus took Zacchaeus seriously, apparently seeing in him a man who was eager to learn.
I lived with these passages for a month before the sermon began to take shape. I reflected on the classical three-faceted description of the role of the called one: pastor, prophet and priest. I asked myself, who are the prophets today? Are they always confrontational? How honest can a pastor be today? Or, for that matter, an educator? What I hope I did on Sunday was to suggest that good worship and justice-making are inseparable, and that the good pastor will risk speaking truth to her or his flock only because they care deeply about them.Â
While the sermon creation process was underway, my life and the lives of the Resource Center’s board and staff were caught up in the countdown leading to our primary fund-raising and public relations event: the Fourth Annual Outstanding Christian Educators Banquet. For this event churches of all sizes and various denominations nominate an educator from among them to be honored. The nominees are chosen on the basis of the congregation’s own criteria, are of all ages, with many levels of giftedness and preparation.
The speaker for the evening was an academic, but one who wears his academic credentials lightly and is thoroughly connected to the everyday life of congregations. As he began to speak a thought crossed my mind. I hope this man was the right choice! I hope he understands who he is speaking to tonight. They are ordinary folk who have tried to draw learners closer to the faith as they understand it, some of them for a half century or more.Â
I needn’t have worried. What I heard was both a challenge to the utter ineffectiveness of much of what is called Christian education today, and a profound respect for his listeners. And they got it. As I moved through the room saying goodbye to some of the four hundred attendees, many made a point of expressing appreciation for what they heard. Comments can be summed up as, “He’s right, we have a long way to go . . . we can all be better teachers than we are . . . it’s too important not to try to be better.”
Driving home that night, weary and with one day left to finish the sermon, I had a new insight about prohets. Among the many words I had read describing prohets were these: they are persons who call us to higher ground. Isaiah did that. So did Jesus. So, too, do pastors. Good pastors – – and good educators – – understand that the truth is easier to receive when spoken in love than in confrontation, thereby more likely to inspire movement toward higher ground. Our speaker of the evening understood that, too.  Thanks, Israel Galindo!