Tuesday, November 25, 2014

Standing Before Kings, Proverbs 22.29 - A Chapel Devotional in Triptych, Logsdon Seminar/South Texas School of Christian Studies McAllen Campus, Thursday, November 20, 2014



Collect

Great King of Kings, Your word promises that master craftsmen will be the servants of kings. Grant us grace that we might seek not so much to rise to great places of service as to raise to greatness those whom we serve. And this we pray in the name of the One who rose by descending, Your Son, Our Savior Jesus Christ, Amen.


Left Panel: The World

            I once heard William Willimon, the great Methodist preacher, admit that he does not especially like the book of Proverbs. He likened it to a long road trip with your mother: a constant barrage of sage advice that you know is generally sound but that you'd rather not hear. He called it the Bible's version of "Hints for Homemakers."
            I get his point. That mighty Old Testament scholar Walter Brueggemann says that Proverbs is the book of orientation - the place where all the landmarks stay put and the divine cause-and-effect operates predictably. The Psalter, Brueggemann insists, is the book of disorientation that thus holds out hope for growth, for a reorientation based on a richer understanding of God's character. In short, the three friends of Job love Proverbs while Job himself is a man for Psalms.
            Still, Proverbs is in the canon. The Church in her wisdom, and the ancient Hebrews before that, heard the voice of divine inspiration here. If the Proverbs do not tell us the way things always are, they tell us the way things always should be and thus give us at least a baseline from which to judge when things go wrong. If their truth is statistical rather than particular, it at least provides a set of actuarial tables for mapping out general trends. If they do not remove the gamble inherent in facing the future, they at least provide us with an accurate point-spread when placing our bets.

Right Panel: Christ in the Text
            Take for instance the proverb we just read. It is part of a longer collection, so the scholars tell us, that runs from 22.17-23.11. Much of this same material appears in an Egyptian book of wisdom sayings that probably dates back three hundred years before Solomon's court gave it its current form. Those Hebrew scribes organized it into seven sections, a very Israelite kind of spirituality, but the basic message remains: Here's how to comport oneself around the king. It's essentially all those things my mother used to include under the heading of, "Act like you've been somewhere," hissed at my brother and sister and me as we entered someone's home.
            And in that setting we find this single, rather isolated idea: Good workers get great gigs.
            The idea itself is not hard to grasp. "Skilled" comes from the Hebrew maher,  meaning swift or speedy. (It appears in what has to be the greatest name in all the Bible, Isaiah 8.3, where the prophet, acting under divine orders, names his kid Mahershalalhashbaz, "The spoil speeds, the prey hastens.") It is not so much the idea of hurry, however, as of readiness or aptitude. It's opposite appears in Proverbs 18.9 to describe one who is "slack in his work."
            The term "work" contrasts with other Hebrew nouns that mean toil or hardship. This word is work considered from the standpoint of its product and of the knowledge it takes to produce that product. In Exodus 31.3, God uses this word to say that he has filled Bezalel, the architect of the tabernacle, with wisdom in "craftsmanship."
            We all recognize this quality and, as the proverb promises, we all value it. John Steinbeck captures this universal feeling in his novel Of Mice and Men as he describes the first appearance of Slim, the top muleskinner on a California ranch. The narrator tells us that Slim "moved into the room. . .with a majesty achieved only by royalty and master craftsmen."

Right Panel: The Church
            So "skilled in his work" means being good at your job; and your particular job, your calling, your vocation, your craft, is pastoral ministry in some form or other. And you are here at Logsdon Seminary at the South Texas School of Christian Studies to become "skilled" at that "work." In some ways it is an utterly unique calling, but in at least one way, the way described here, it is the same as any calling from preaching to plumbing: It is work that involves knowledge, experience, instincts, and the use of a certain set of tools.
            Do not, to quote a former President of the United States, do not misunderestimate the importance of those skills. Sometimes people think that because the call to ministry comes from God and cannot be generated or denied by human agency, so the skills of ministry come by direct divine download. God may in fact do this - what may God not do? - but that is not the normal process. If ours is indeed a higher calling, why should we, God's pastors, get a free ride where those of "lesser" vocations must struggle to become skilled in their work? When you step into the pulpit or the hospital room, when you lead the coffin to the grave or the groom to the altar, make sure you have paid the price that lets you move "with a majesty achieved only by royalty and master craftsmen."
            But what I really want to focus on is the promise contained in this proverb: "He will stand before kings; he will not stand before obscure men." The meaning seems obvious: Do your work well and you can expect a steady series of promotions until you find patronage among the highest levels of society. That is probably what the verse says at the literal level and I do not want to be guilty of eisogeting it, of leading meaning into the text instead of out of it. I do worry, however, that this reading could do considerable damage to seminarians in the current climate of American evangelicalism.
            Because that climate is a little bit too tropical - overheated with ambition and lush with luxurious vines of fame and power. Megachurch ministries and podcast pulpits have created a class of super-pastors whose clientele include Fortune 500 CEO's, famous athletes, and stars of the silver screen both large and small. This proverb could be used (and no doubt has been used in at least one church-growth school or leadership conference or another) to sanctify the idea that a minister should expect regular advancement from a small seminary pastorate to a stable county-seat First Baptist and ultimately to multi-campus megadom, or perhaps the mustard seed morphing of a living room church plant to a power pulpit. And while I am not condemning these developments as signs of a sold-out ministry, I am dismissing them as the defining marks of successful ministry.
            I want to suggest instead that the mark of successful ministry - and I prefer the term "faithful ministry" - is not that the minister rise to the level of working for royalty, but that the minister raise those with whom she works to the level of kings. Perhaps the goal is not for me to advance in my ministry, but for my congregation to advance under my ministry. Perhaps the people are not the tools of my trade, but those whom my tools shape into the likeness of Christ by skilled craftsmanship.
            I want to interpret this verse in terms of George Macdonald's He that will be a hero, will barely be a man; he that will be nothing but a doer of his work, is sure of his manhood." In the same way, that minister who sets out to be famous will barely be a minister at all, but that minister who will be nothing but a skilled doer of pastoral work is sure of hearing, "Well done, thou good and faithful servant."
            I want to interpret this verse in light of C. S. Lewis' observation in his essay, "The Inner Ring:" "If in your working hours you make the work your end, you will presently find yourself all unawares inside the only circle in your profession that really matters. You will be one of the sound craftsmen, and other sound craftsmen will know it." In the same way, the seminarian dedicated to doing well the pastoral work of preaching, teaching, praying, and caring, will be ministerial royalty, and her fellow-royalty will recognize the fact, even though the domination and the newspapers and the business community probably will not.

Conclusion

            In the end, after all, we all wear crowns (Rev 4.4), and in the end, after all, we all take them off (Rev 4.10). On that great and glorious day, the only one left wearing a crown will be the King of Kings and Lord of Lords. May God make us skilled in our work, diligent in our business, craftsmen in our calling, that we might stand before that King on that day, and that on that day we might stand among those before whom we have stood.

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