Who Prays for the Pastors?

I had the privilege today of participating in a Taize worship service organized by, and intended for, the Young Clergy Association of the Northern Illinois Conference of our church. It turns out there are about fifty clergy under the age of 40 currently serving congregations in our area of Illinois, and they decided to meet together, today for the first time. Our church provided the gathering site (and breakfast), and it was our sanctuary which hosted the worship. Now, while I am not clergy and only a few months shy of aging out of this bracket anyway, I love me some Taize, so I crashed the party. What I encountered was…well. There were about thirty attending, and while I may not be clergy, I spotted at least one other who doesn’t count as “young.” There were men and women, Anglo and Asian and African-American, two of our former pastors (and more than two male clergy with earrings). As for the worship…I’ve participated in Taize services before, so I should have known, but one is never really prepared for the presence of the Spirit.

For one thing, when you get a collection of clergy together, they’re not afraid to sing. The repetitive, meditative Taize songs were familiar to enough of them that the harmonies swelled and blended and slid in under my heart with a low bass rumble and danced there. You know how that feels? It feels deep. The songs were familiar to me, too, but this time they really took life. I didn’t have to worry about leading the music; this crowd could hold its own. Sometimes, sitting in the choir, it’s too easy to sing as a leader and to forget to sing as a worshipper. Today I got to sing.

But the power of the service was in the time of prayer. Remember, this is a room full of pastors, so you might think the prayers would be long and flowery and long and theologically impressive and long and carefully crafted and long. They were none of these things. One of the number stood up and opened the prayer time briefly, inviting all to share joys and concerns. There were a few pregnant moments of silence…and then it began. Slowly, but with increasing urgency, these young clergy opened their hearts and prayed, simply, lifting up names and concerns and situations they needed to bring before God. They prayed…and they prayed for us. For their congregations. For their communities. For families who have been flooded by the rains. For families who have lost children. For church members facing serious illness. For children in danger. They prayed for their colleagues; for other clergy who are ill or struggling or have a new frightening diagnosis of their own. They prayed for our church leaders, for our bishop and District Superintendents, for our conference, for each other. They prayed with true openness, with honesty, and it seemed to pour out of them with the relief and need of a river breaking through a dam. It was a holy moment, a lasting moment out of time, round and full and empty and aching and wholly present with the Spirit.

Sometimes, sitting in the pastor’s chair, it must be too easy to lead the worship and too hard to worship. Today, I think, these pastors got to come to God. Their hearts full, full of their call and their service and their busy schedules and their committee meetings and their cantankerous church members and their frustrations and their absence from their own families to attend church events…full of their need to be with other young clergy facing the same struggles and call.

They prayed for us. Our lives touch our pastors; our pastors are changed and challenged by us. Like children who take Mom and Dad for granted, we may not know how much. I’ve been thinking about this recently, as I’ve seen pastors – some in my own family – deny their own needs for sleep, family time, exercise, and weekend gatherings (have you ever tried to plan a family trip around someone who needs to be in the pulpit every Sunday?). Why would they do this? For us? For God?

Ubi caritas et amor
Ubi caritas Deus ibi est

Where caring and love are
Where caring is, there is God.

The Young Clergy Association spent the day in our church (I escaped before they started introductions). I’m proud and humbled that we had the opportunity to host this gathering. I’m glad they’re meeting together. It’s not an easy road, following that call, and as church members we can make it harder…or we can make it easier. Our pastors carry a burden for us. They carry us. At the very least, we can offer a prayer for them in return.

Ubi caritas, Deus ibi est.