As Men Leading Lives of Quiet Expectation
It was fourteen years ago today, on the Feast of St. Simon & St. Jude the Apostles, A.D. 2006, that the Reverend Gifford A. Grobien was ordained and installed as Assistant Pastor at Emmaus Lutheran Church in South Bend, Indiana. He subsequently completed his doctorate at the University of Notre Dame and was then called to serve as a professor at Concordia Theological Seminary in Fort Wayne, but we were privileged to have him with us at Emmaus for six years, for which we are thankful.
One of our Gottesdienst Editors, the Reverend David Petersen, was the preacher for Pr. Grobien’s ordination and installation. As expected, given the festival occasion, he preached on St. Simon & St. Jude and the apostolic ministry of the Gospel. It was a good sermon, of course, though I cannot claim to remember most of the details and specifics. What struck me profoundly at the time, and what has stuck with me ever since, was what Pr. Petersen had to say about the service of pastors in the light of those holy Apostles. He noted that we really don’t know much about either of them, especially not from the Holy Scripture. They are both overshadowed by their namesakes, Simon Peter and Judas Iscariot, though church tradition suggests that each of them laid down his life as a holy martyr of Christ and His Gospel: St. Jude Thaddaeus (not Iscariot!) was beaten to death with a club and then beheaded post mortem, whereas St. Simon the Zealot was cut in half with a saw (which is why he is often pictured with a saw).
But what I remember most distinctly from Pr. Petersen’s sermon is his comment that most pastors are not only rather obscure and little known but, instead of suffering gruesome public martyrdoms for which they might be remembered, they suffer the daily and ongoing “martyrdom” of tedious labors, ever dying the death of a thousand cuts and bruises throughout the course of their ministry.
Indeed, a great many pastors lead lives, perhaps not “of quiet desperation,” but of quiet obscurity and often unrelenting loneliness. So much of what they deal with in caring for the people of God is and must remain confidential; which means they carry those burdens internally and alone. And while it is true that some pastors are able to establish and maintain relatively normal friendships with parishioners and other laity within their communities, for many others that simply does not work. For myself, for example, over and over again I have found that my only comfortable and natural friendships (in the usual sense of that term) are with my fellow pastors. It was with that very point in mind that one of those brothers recently pointed out that the Seventy (or Seventy-Two) of St. Luke 10 were sent out two-by-two by the Lord. Along the same lines, I note that St. Simon & St. Jude are commemorated and celebrated together, as are St. Philip & St. James and even St. Peter & St. Paul. In any case, pastors do need the camaraderie of other pastors. Sadly, though, they do not necessarily get to spend much social time together, hanging out, having fun, conversing, and commiserating “the way old friends do.” Which is why it is not uncommon for pastors to value circuit winkels and district conferences especially for the chance to get together.
Covid-19 has certainly not made things any easier for pastors, no more so than it has for anyone else. Not only has it prevented many pastors from getting together as they otherwise might have done; it has also added to the burdens and responsibilities of their office in ways that are far removed from the actual Ministry of the Gospel and seemingly impossible to navigate. It is no secret that pastors have been caught between strong differences of opinion regarding the virus and the political and public responses to it. They have had to determine their church’s response, establish and oversee policies and practices, and then field the complaints and criticisms from all sides — all while trying to maintain the preaching of the Word and the administration of the Sacraments to which the Lord has called and ordained them.
Of course, pastors are also men of flesh and blood like everybody else, with their own opinions and convictions, their own frailties and weaknesses, their own worries and concerns, and, in most cases, their own families to care for in the midst of this highly politicized pandemic. Case in point, I’ve had several colleagues who have been personally ill with Covid-19, a few of them severely so. But it’s been just within the past few days that I’ve received word of an actively-serving LCMS pastor who has now died from this novel Coronavirus. That’s sobering, not so much because a fellow pastor has died (which is sad, though it is nothing novel or remarkable), but because it has been another reminder of the obscurity and loneliness of the pastoral ministry. I did not know that brother in his earthly life and service, and I only know of him now because he died — and even that much I probably would not know if he had not died from Covid-19.
No doubt such things are more poignant to me as we approach the first anniversary of my own father’s death on 5 November 2019, and as he will be named among the faithful departed to be remembered at the Lord’s Altar this coming Sunday. Although he was a blessing to many people in many places in his long years of service, first as a Lutheran school teacher, and then as a Lutheran pastor, he had to retire early due to illness and then spent the final sixteen years of his life on this earth in disability. He wasn’t a celebrity pastor, a seminary professor, or a church politician, so there were no headlines when he died, no breaking news stories, no synodical eulogies or editorials. Yet, he was and is remembered by those who loved him, whom he loved and cared for in this body and life, whom he served with the preaching and teaching and administration of the Gospel, which he treasured above all things.
More important, and more to the point, he was and is remembered by the Lord, who called him by name in Holy Baptism and called him to the Office of the Holy Ministry by His Word and Holy Spirit. As with St. Simon & St. Jude and all the Apostles, and as with all those faithful pastors and teachers who have followed in their train, whom the Lord has never failed to raise up for His Church on earth, my father’s life and ministry, and, yes, even his disability and retirement, his patient endurance under the Cross, and all his labors in the Lord were not in vain. For it is not the fame and fortune of this world, but the faithfulness of the Lord that preserves both His shepherds and His sheep in His Word and faith. And according to His promise and His providential care in Christ Jesus, that great Pastor and Bishop of our souls, the Apostle and High Priest of the Gospel, though it is not yet apparent what we truly are and ever shall be, when He appears in Glory at the last we shall see Him as He is, and we shall be like Him.
Especially in these gray and latter days, it is easy to get caught up in the fears and worries of the world, and no less so in its chasing after power, prestige, and popularity. Pastors are not immune to such cares and concerns; nor were the Holy Apostles, as we know from the Holy Gospels. Yet, the Lord is the One who has called and sent us into the various and sundry places where He would have us serve and suffer in His Name, that He might accomplish His purposes in us and through us and for us by the way of the Cross. In this respect, even more so than the Levites in the Old Testament, we pastors have no inheritance or legacy on earth, because the Lord Himself is our Inheritance and our everlasting Life.
Therefore, my brothers in Christ and in Office, since we have this Ministry, and as we have received such mercy, let us not lose heart. For though our outer man is decaying, yet our inner man is being renewed day by day; and this momentary, light affliction is producing for us an eternal weight of glory far beyond all comparison. Therefore, do not consider the things which are seen, but those things which are not seen; for the things which are seen are temporal, but the things which are not seen are eternal.