Priests and Pastors

As I try to think through the implications of being a Reformed Anglican in an Anglo-Catholic parish, I am learning that the office of priest and that of pastor are two very different things. Now to be sure, some priests manage to be pastoral, and pastors certainly preside over sacraments in a priestly role.

But there is this one major difference, I think. Priests relate to people primarily through things and rituals while pastors relate to people primarily as individuals and utilize the things and rituals in support of people. In my limited experience, I can get closer to pastors than I can to priests. Priests maintain a distance from others, for example in something as basic as how they dress.

Priests preside over sacraments and sacrifices. Priests usually operate in an authoritarian, top-down organizational structure, carrying out the duties assigned to them. Pastors are more likely to function in a democratic structure, focusing on the needs of their constituency. Priests obey bishops. Pastors work with committees.

The authoritarian structure in which the priest lives and works tends to create Bible studies in which the priest is the expert lecturer who expects to be questioned by students (again, I am not speaking categorically of all priests, but in a general context). Bible studies led by Pastors tend to be more participatory and interactive. Priests show and tell; pastors ask and listen.

The pastoral role was emphasized in the New Testament. Never is mentioned the spiritual gift of priest or the office of priest. That may be because there were still priests functioning in the Temple, but I think it is more likely a theological distinction. Since Scripture affirms that Jesus is the great High Priest Who has made the final sacrifice for sin, there was no need of priests in the early Church. Timothy and Titus and Epaphras were pastors.

Priesthood was emphasized in the Dark and Middle Ages as the world functioned under the assumptions of a feudalistic society. But with the Enlightenment and the emergence of Protestant thought, the role of the pastor re-emerged in an age in which individual expression and individual autonomy became the norm.

I think most Anglo-Catholics find comfort in the repetition of rites whereas Reformed Anglicans, while not unmindful of the benefits of the sacraments, have a fear that ritualized repetition can lead to apathy. So, Reformed Anglicans are more likely to emphasize the pastoral aspects of Communion while priests seem to me more likely to emphasize the sacerdotal aspect. The Reformed pastoral aversion to "Mass" and the priestly aversion to spontaneous praise reveal the the mutually exclusive nature of these offices.

I think it is easier for a pastor to be priestly (although not to the satisfaction of a "real" priest) than for a priest to be pastoral. But I'm not sure why I believe that. I think it may be because priests can virtuously celebrate Holy Eucharistic all by themselves, but a pastor who preaches or teaches to an empty church seems a little off.

A Disciple's Reflections on Holy Week

This Holy Week prompts some thoughts which I hope will not be taken as cynicical, but which may prompt a more realistic and less ridiculous approach to the Passion of our Lord.

Have you noticed that everything Jesus' disciples failed to do during Holy Week, we seem perfectly able to do. That Passover night none of the disciples wanted to do the servile chore of washing the feet of the guests in the Upper Room. But our priests gladly take up the towel and basin. They get it right.

After Maunday Thursday communion, our church has an all-night vigil. The rector's invitation was that we not disappoint the Lord as his first bunch had. When Jesus said, "Could you not watch with me for one hour?" we could now say, "Yes, Lord, you can count on us."

On Friday, those first Christians were not to be found within a centurion's spear throw of Golgotha, except maybe John hiding behind Mary's dress. But look how we come with great solemnity, some even to kiss the cross in bare feet (idols often bring such piece of mind).

On the Via Delarosa Jesus carries his cross alone and abandoned, but today's Anglo-Catholics crowd the aisles shuffling through the stations of the cross.

And come Easter morning, remembering those first apostles cowering in fear and disbelief, we will get it right and shout out the good news, "Hallelujah, the Lord is risen!"

So, having come through a holy Lent with Jesus, watched with him, and having adored his suffering sacrifice, how much better we now feel. How good to know we got it right. We didn't desert you, Lord. We aren't like those apostolic losers (No wonder you can't trust their doctrine). If we had been there, Jesus, things would have been a lot different.

I remember a hymn we used to sing when I was a child. The music was inspiring; the theology atrocious. The verse started with a question, "Are ye able, saith the Master, to be crucified with me?" and then would follow the rousing victorious chorus, "Lord, we are able ..."

The evangelical faith is this: we cannot keep God's law. We justly deserve his anger and wrath. We are completely unable to effect a reconciliation with God except first God by grace God resurrects our dead souls to faith in Jesus. The whole purpose of the cross was that Jesus did what needed doing precisely because we couldn't. Jesus never asked us to carry his cross (or to kiss it), but to carry our own. What is our cross? It's not merely some bad habit or difficult circumstance. My cross and yours is the powerlessness and hopelessness of our situation without the intervening grace of God acting once and for all, not needing our annual re-enactment, as if by ritual we might now convince God of our worthiness.