Joseph D. Small
Coordinator for Theology and Worship
Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.)

Before we talk about ministry in a postmodern world — or anywhere else for that matter — it is necessary to talk a bit about the church in which ministry occurs. Ecclesiology is the name we give to theological talk about the church. Of the classical theological loci, the "doctrine of the church" is the most visible—it refers to a reality that can be observed and appraised. Yet, all too often, theological claims made for the church are not evident in the actual life of the observable church. Alternatively, analysis of the actual church often is done without reference to theological categories. There is a disjunction between the theological construct, "church," and the sociological entity, "church."

The distinction between the ideal church and the real church is couched in a variety of dyads: visible/invisible; empirical/essential; external/internal; real/ideal; etc. There are several strategies for dealing with the distinction. Perhaps the most common is to imagine that the church has a dual nature, or even two natures, that must be reconciled conceptually. The form of reconciliation — whether expressed in historical, spiritual, phenomenological, or eschatological terms — is to propose that the true, ideal church is a reality to which the actual church is called to conform. The actual church's beliefs and practices are examined, found wanting, and then contrasted with the way the church ought to be. This "ought" is postulated on the basis an image of what the true, essential, pure church "is."

The strong version of the two natures strategy often leads to the collapse of the actual church into the ideal church. The theological construct becomes what really matters. In this way, language about the church becomes descriptive even when its intention is normative. The intention, "the church ought to be a community of loving service" is expressed as, "the church is a community of loving service." The model becomes the reality! The favored categories of this approach are biblical and theological, focusing on the question of the church"s nature, what the church is. Much of the theological exploration of the church falls into a pattern of talking about the construct as if it were the actual community of faith, leading to assertions such as: "In the power of the Holy Spirit the church experiences itself as the messianic fellowship of service for the kingdom of God in the world" and "[the congregation] therefore sees itself and its powers and tasks as deriving from and existing in the eschatological history of the Spirit." The simple reality is that congregations do not see themselves that way, or, to the extent that they do, it is in a mirror dimly. Ecclesial docetism.

The weaker version of the two natures strategy leads to constructing the ideal church by extending an analysis of the actual church. A theological construct is retained, but played down as an abstraction that diverts attention from the church's existence in this time and place. Description of the church is what really matters, for description is the key to discerning prescriptive pattern for the church. Thus, the description, "congregations are homogeneous with regard to race, class, and other social indicators" is extended to create a church that should develop strategies for capitalizing on demographic realities. The favored categories of this approach are historical and sociological, focusing on the question of the church"s mission, what the church does. Much of this exploration talks about the actual church as if it were the expression of the church"s calling: "The dilemma of the church in this transitional time is that the shells of the old structures still surround us even though many of them no longer work. . . . Our task is no less than the reinvention of the church." Ecclesial ebionitism.

The purpose of this too-brief, caricatured look at the unfortunate results of a two-natured understanding of the church is to set the stage for a plea that conversation about the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) and ministry within it not become captive to theological abstraction or sociological determinism. Instead, the urgent task is to engage in genuine ecclesiology at the crossroad of theology and sociology.

Sociologists agree on some basic features of contemporary Western societies, features that have a profound impact on the life of the church. The first of these features is the differentiation of social structures into distinct, albeit interdependent subsystems. The implications of differentiation for the life of the church are dramatic. There was a time when the church represented a basic, integrative element of the society, but it has now become one institution among many, dealing with the specialized area of "religion." Differentiation leads to a society on the model of a sprawling shopping mall. Specialty boutiques are scattered randomly, and religious shops throughout the mall compete for a dwindling market share.

Closely connected to differentiation is a low level of ascriptive loyalty and the corresponding privatization of decision. No longer do people assume that there are authorities to which they are accountable—whether creeds or institutions or "teachers." Instead, persons assume that they are the "authority" deciding which of the multiple possibilities to choose. Patterns of belief, patterns of association, and patterns of action are all matters of individual decision. As people wander through society"s shopping mall, they are able to choose whether to enter any of the religious boutiques and what, if anything, they will buy.

Underlying privatization of decision is a generalization of values. Freedom and equality are assumed as universal values that shape society without recourse to particular patterns or prohibitions. Thus, all persons should be included as possible participants in all areas of society and all functions within those areas. Specific differences among people—office, rank, education, etc.—may not function to exclude anyone in principle. The mall is a public place, and all should be free to participate in the marketplace.

Sociologists have been telling us these things for decades. These basic features of late modernity (or postmodernity) are not monolithic and do not go unchallenged, however. For example, Hauerwas and Willimon seek to oppose social differentiation with a vision of "resident aliens" who live within "communities of character." Many within the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) lament the privatization of decision, calling for a reappropriation of the "Reformed tradition" and the "confessional nature of the church." Similarly, groups within every mainline denomination seek to counter the generalization of values with a call for adherence to communal norms. In each instance, however, the response is to a recognized trend or established reality within society. Sociological "reality" is opposed by sociological "prescription."

Others opt for a different approach, however. Sociological reality is taken as the given to which church strategy and tactics must adjust. The life of the church becomes market-driven in an attempt to create a particularly attractive religious boutique to which all (or all within an identifiable market niche) are welcome and within which a variety of goods and services must be offered for personal choice.

In the meantime, theologians spin lovely yarns: the church as koinonia, the church as perichoretic Trinitarian community, the church as participant in the holiness of God, the church as the proleptic expression of restored humanity, and so on. Differentiation? There is no recognition that cultural segmentation reduces the church to one among many competing social realities. Privatization of decision? There is no coping with the pervasive assumption that individual choice is a churchly reality. Generalization of values? There is no recognition that the values of freedom and inclusivity flourish without reference to the faith of the church.

Of course, none of this as clear and neat as I have limned it. All of us live and think within a complex ecclesial reality. Our preaching and teaching about the church may be more "biblical and theological" while our church planning and programming may be more "historical and sociological." And yet, while reality is ambiguous, ambiguous thinking and acting in the church only confuses ourselves and the members of our churches. Our task is not to choose to be "theological" about the church or to choose "sociological" strategies. Our task is to discover the appropriate intersections between theology and sociology so that we can discover and develop a faithful ecclesiology.

Ministry within the church is a reflection of widespread confusion about the church. And confusion about the nature of ministry is at the center of the church"s uncertainty about the shape of its renewal. Contemporary pastors, like their predecessors, are beset by a bewildering range of congregational and denominational expectations. Demands on pastors" time and energy include regular visitation and successful stewardship programs, membership growth and an efficient committee structure, presbytery service and good sermons, community outreach and an attractive church school program. The list is endless.

The difficulty goes deeper, however. Beneath every demand on time and energy lies the reality that the vocational core of ministry is no longer discernible. The church does not have a cohesive understanding of ministry that can be shared by pastors in congregational settings (much less by other ministers in various forms of service). Ministers are presented with a bewildering and unstable bundle of images depicting the essence of ministry: . . . preacher . . . teacher . . . community builder . . . programmer . . . marketer . . . therapist . . . change agent . . . care giver . . . manager . . . the list goes on! These images are more than another collection of tasks, however; they are comprehensive models of ministry that offer competing options without a compelling rationale for choice.

The absence of a coherent, cohesive ministerial identity is more than a mildly interesting sociological phenomenon. Its effects are apparent in the alarming escalation of conflict within congregations, the appalling incidence of clergy sexual misconduct, the high percentage of ministers "seeking a new call," the accelerating burn-out rate, and the number of mildly depressed pastors who have settled for playing out their days.

Postmodernity gives us a boutique church with a marketing director ministry. Perhaps we can find our way out of the shopping mall by listening to a premodern voice. John Calvin was convinced that reform of the church is based on the three pillars of "doctrine," "administering the sacraments," and "governing the church." If the church was to be restored to faithfulness, three things were required: attention to the truth of the gospel, to worship centered in the grace of the lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Spirit, and to the disciplined life of the community of faith. Calvin was also clear that ministry—the pastoral office—is essential to the revival and maintenance of the church"s faithful theology, worship, and order. "For neither the light and heat of the sun, nor food and drink, are so necessary to nourish and sustain the present life," Calvin asserted, "as the apostolic and pastoral office is necessary to preserve the church on earth." Along with other great 16th century reformers, Calvin held the ministry in highest regard because he was convinced that the church"s fidelity to the gospel depends on proclamation of the Word in preaching and sacraments, worship that glorifies God, and church order that honors the Spirit"s leading.

Esteem for pastoral ministry was not a form of reflexive clericalism or an assertion of customary privilege. Rather, it depended on Calvin"s insistence that "every one who rules in the Church shall also teach" and that "none are to be continued in the office but those who are diligent in performing its duties." It was by virtue of its kerygmatic and catechetical vocation to proclaim the Word in Baptism, Eucharist, and sermon, and to teach the faith to young and old that the ministerial office was "the chief sinew by which believers are held together in one body." Until recently, the Presbyterian Church incorporated this understanding in its Book of Order by calling ministers, "teaching elders." Loss of this term is unfortunate, although the current designation, "Ministers of the Word and Sacrament," indicates the centrality of theological, liturgical, and ecclesial calling in the life and work of the church"s pastors. The Reformed tradition has always understood that pastoral ministry is a God-given means for preserving the whole church in safety, unity, and fidelity.

Calvin was right. Encouraging and enhancing the theological vocation of pastors is one of the most urgent tasks before the church. Surely there are varieties of gifts and varieties of service. Within the range of the church"s ministries, and within the pattern of the church"s ordered ministries (deacon, elder, and pastor), it is the distinctly pastoral vocation to attend to the great Tradition of the church"s faith. Management and mission are necessary ministries of the church, but not central elements of pastoral vocation. Underscoring pastors" theological calling is not intended to add one more image—theologian—to an already too long list. Rather, it recognizes that as ministers recover and deepen their vocation to "think the faith," they are better able to discern the shape of distinctly Christian pastoral and congregational life in the midst of disparate cultural claims. Pastoral discernment that encourages congregational discernment is the necessary starting point for the church's renewal in the gospel.

The theological vocation of pastors is not the solitary exercise of scholarly discipline, as if ministers were called to be little professors who transform congregations into mini-seminaries. Theology is a ministry of the whole people of God. All Christians are called to think prayerfully about the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Spirit. As they come together in congregations they are called into committed conversation about the shape of shared faith and common service. Congregations are called to widen the conversation denominationally, ecumenically, and globally so that all may benefit from diverse experiences and expressions of faith. It is through the committed conversation of the whole people of God that the church can recover the unity in faith that leads to unity in mission.

However, honesty requires that we acknowledge the weakness of theological vocation among ministers and within the church. There was a time when all of the faithful understood that their calling beckoned them to love God with their minds as well as their hearts and souls. Congregations were communities of faith that thought and talked together about the faith; the whole church was a theological community. But thinking is hard work, and theology is a demanding calling. Congregations grew weary, and so they asked their pastors to take over the responsibility, to be the church"s "designated theologians." Pastors were happy to oblige, and so there was a time when pastors were theologians in, with, and for the church. But thinking is hard work, and theology is a demanding calling. Pastors grew weary, and so they asked their professors to take over the responsibility, to be the church"s only theologians. Professors were happy to oblige, but the result was that theology left the church for a new home in the academy. Little wonder that what is called "theology" today seems remote from the real life of the real church.

The task of pastors is to reclaim theology for the church. The distinct duty of pastors is to lead congregations as the body of Christ emerges from the waters of baptism, gathers around the Lord"s Table and is shaped by Scripture, formed by the great Tradition.

Louisville Presbyterian Theological Seminary

April 12, 1999

8 1999 Joseph D. Small