What's Tony Thinking

Judgment or Grace?

I wonder if I as a Minister/ Pastor I was perceived as a sign and presence of judgment or of grace? Or to put it in the terms of my friends at Mockingbird Ministries, law or gospel?

The other evening a new, temporary, neighbor who is staying with his family in a nearby cabin came over to introduce himself. He said, “Johnnie (a mutual friend) “told me about you, said you were a pastor.” “Yeah,” he continued, “I was baptized just two weeks ago. Had an alcohol addiction. Been part of a Christian recovery program.”

“That’s wonderful,” I said. “Thanks be to God.” “Hey, hope you and your family have a great time. Let us know if there’s anything you need.”

As the following days went by, he in the midst of a family vacation with three kids and his spouse and a couple other family members, I wondered did he look over my way and see a source of grace and encouragement, cheering him on, or did he see judgment, i.e. someone keeping an eye on him, seeing if he was ‘living up to” his recent baptism?

I remember as a young pastor visiting a home and seeing someone tuck a beer bottle behind the couch as I stepped into the living room. “Cleaning up their act,” for the minister. Or someone hastily putting out their smoke. For them I was, obviously, a sign or presence of judgment — regardless of what I might say or do. Minister = straighten up and fly right. Not Minister = wow, what a relief!

People used to tell me that my sermons were “challenging.” That can be good. There’s a place for challenge in the faith, in the gospel. But I now wonder if it might have been better if more of my sermons were found to be “comforting” or “encouraging.” Not, “I needed that,” as in the slap in the face of the Aqua Velva After Shave commercial, but “I needed that” as a word of grace, of lifting the heavy load of life.

Back to my new, temporary neighbor. “Family vacations” turn out to be quite a bit of work for parents. You’ve got to be thinking about meals and multiple changes of clothes for the kids. Maybe there’s a dog or two. You’re lugging bikes, paddle boards, kayaks. Setting up tents, hammocks. Maybe one kid gets sick.

Sure, when it’s all over and blessed amnesia has done its work, you can say, “We had a great time,” and mean it. But in the moment, it is for Mom and Dad, a lot of work and, at least sometimes, tempers tested. Not to mention, there’s a lot of “family togetherness,” which might make “work/ work” look like a break. “Can’t wait to get back to work to get a rest/ a break!”

So I wondered, did my recovering, newly baptized-in-Christ neighbor look my way and see assurance and encouragement or nosiness and judgment?

What did my parishioners experience from me, grace or judgment? Did they feel they needed to hide parts of themselves or their lives (beer bottles behind the couch) or did they feel they could be themselves, bring their real selves, in my presence? “Want a beer?” Some of both, no doubt.

I got a kind of answer when my temporary, on family-vacay, neighbor came over as they were packing up to leave. “We had a great time,” he said.

“That’s so great, I’m glad. Hope you come again,” I answered.

“But, wow, I’m bushed,” he said. “Yes,” I answered, “family vacations . . .  they’re work too, aren’t they? They can be an exhausting.”

“Really?” he said. “Gosh, I thought it was supposed to be just, you know, all so great, so wonderful, relaxing. And it is, some, but wow, I’m wiped out.”

“Yes, I get it. Been there,” I replied.

“Okay, well, thanks. You take care now.”

“You too, my brother. Remember, we’re not the perfect. We’re the forgiven. And, by the way, you’re doing great. God bless you, my friend.”