How Eugene Peterson Changed My Life - a Tribute
Today (Monday the 22nd), Eugene Peterson breathed his last breath in this life and his first in the next.
Eugene Peterson was perhaps best known for his lesser accomplishment: The Message. If you see any tributes to his life, you may read about his meekness and quiet nature; but his tongue could fire arrows off faster than the legendary elf-prince, Legolas. His target? The American church and the American Pastor. He would critique himself before any other but never pulled any punches when it counted.
I cannot overstate the influence Peterson has had on me and our ministry. He has four books on pastoral leadership: Five Smooth Stones, The Contemplative Pastor, Working the Angles, and Under the Unpredictable Plant.
Too many times have I found myself been gasping for breath as the prophetic words of this gentle man tore at my worldly outlook on ministry, as Aslan tore the dragon-flesh from Eustace. I read his books slowly so that the sting of the words could sink deep enough to brand my mind before moving on.
I can hear an objection forming – shouldn’t the Bible be the most important book in your life? Undoubtedly. And by God’s grace, it is. But Peterson has caught on to the fact that much of what we do in Christian ministry has but paid lip service to the sacred Scriptures. And he exposed where my devotion to God and His Word ended, and where the lip service began.
“Why do pastors have such a difficult time being pastors? Because we are awash in idolatry. Where two or three are gathered together and the name of God comes up, a committee is formed for making an idol. We want gods that are not gods so we can ‘be as gods’…
“Personal holiness, the lifelong process by which our hearts and minds and bodies are conformed to Christ, is more often addressed. But it is both possible and common to develop deep personal pieties that coexist alongside vocational idolatries without anyone knowing anything amiss. If the pastor is devout, it is assumed that the work is also devout. The assumption is unwarranted. Sincerity in a carpenter does not ensure an even saw cut…
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| Image taken from somewhere on the internet |
“The pastoral vocation in America is embarrassingly banal. It is banal because it is pursued under the canons of job efficiency and career management. It is banal because it is reduced to the dimensions of a job description. It is banal because it is an idol – a call from God exchanged for an offer by the devil for work that can be measured and manipulated at the convenience of the worker. Holiness is not banal. Holiness is blazing.”[1]
‘Pastor,’ is easily replaced with ‘youth worker’ or ‘missionary’. In the midst of voices such as Rick Warren’s, Andy Stanley’s, and John Maxwell’s, Peterson’s words are succinctly drowned out. Because if we’re honest, we’d rather have formulas for success than God. God is unpredictable. God may not have my success as anywhere in his plan. God means embracing sacrifice.
But the wisdom of this age is attractive, filling our bellies and newsletters like those delicious casseroles at a church potlucks – so satisfying, so delicious. (Or, to catch up with the times, that frothy latte served in the back of the sanctuary as we walk to our carefully selected assortment of seating choices.)
“The people in our congregations are, in fact, out shopping for idols. They enter our churches with the same mind-set in which they go to the shopping mall, to get something that will please them or satisfy an appetite or need. John Calvin saw the human heart as a relentlessly efficient factory for producing idols. Congregations commonly see the pastor as the quality-control engineer in the factory. The moment we accept the position, though, we defect from our vocation. The people who gather in our congregations want help through a difficult time; they want meaning and significance in their venture. They want God, in a way, but certainly not a ‘jealous God,’ not the ‘God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ.’ Mostly they want to be their own god and stay in control but have ancillary idol assistance for the hard parts, which the pastor can show them how to get…
“Living in golden calf country as we do, it is both easy and attractive to become a successful pastor like Aaron.” [2]
What do our churches/ministries need for growth? What component can we provide that to clinch the deal? Bigger building? Bigger parking lot? Better visuals? Peterson writes that after he had planted his church and they had finished funding and building their church building, attendance dropped. He reached out to his denomination for advice:
“I was advised by my denominational supervisors to start new projects immediately – recapture the people’s enthusiasm with something ‘they could get their hands on.’ I respectfully declined their counsel, for I had suddenly awakened to the fact that what we can get our hands on is idols…
“It turned out that far more people than I would have guessed had helped develop and build the new church because it was a religious project, and idol that gave meaning and focus in the context of something worthwhile and suggestive of transcendence. They were not interested in God. Worshipping God was not emotionally exciting. Loving neighbors was not ego-satisfying.”[3]
Peterson calls to account the entire enterprise of American Christianity. And what a bloated enterprise we are. We actually have companies that come in and evaluate a church’s attendance increase or decrease, plug in their formula, offer guaranteed results with x-number of steps, and viola – results! More attendance, more money, more ministries, more staff, and we’re back to needing to fund the staff and ministries. All in the name of ‘ministry’ and ‘worship.’
How have we stooped so low? The money itself that we spend on ourselves on our buildings, sound systems, ambiance lighting, and short-term mission trips so that we can satisfy the need to feel engaged in global missions stands as our accuser.
I’m certain that Peterson was not the only one writing about these things. But his four books on pastoral leadership (well, the three that I’ve read so far – I read them slowly, remember?) have revolutionized the way that I see ministry - that I see the faith as a whole.
Of all that he wrote in this life, this set of four books is certainly his greatest work – even when we pretend like it’s not there. I am certain that outside of the Bible, no author has influenced me more. Thank you, pastor Eugene, for your public rebuke of my prideful wanderings. God has used your words to bring my understanding of church and ministry back from the brink of prideful self-destruction as I endeavor to live my life in long obedience in the same direction. Enjoy your rest. Praise be to the Son.
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