I was feeling introspective the other day and felt I needed to obtain a piece of information that’s always been available to me (in fact, I pass the answer in the form of a plaque every time I go up to my office)  – but one which I never took the time to learn.  I wanted to see how many pastors had been serving here at Central over the years.  It turns out that I am, in fact, the 17th pastor to serve with Central Baptist – and I’m not even sure that this number includes all the interim pastors over the years.

When you see the congregation from that perspective it’s easy to see how referring to Central (or any congregation that a pastor serves) as, “My Church.”  This really is a statement which makes no sense on at least two levels:

• Each of those pastors which proceeded me has left their mark on Central.  Some of those marks are good, and some of them are bad – but their impressions can be seen in the expectations, methods, structures, and arguments that the congregation continues to have.  When I eventually move-on my own marks will likely be left here (some good, some bad).  This is the way of human communities.
• Theologically speaking, this is Jesus’ Church.  I am, at the very most, a steward of those the Lord has placed under my charge.  They are never, ever, “mine.”  Nor is the community that Jesus’ sheep form “mine” in any sort of possessive form.  If anything, the community Jesus has formed in this place has a claim on me, rather than the other way around!

I take two lessons from my introspective moment.  First, I don’t “own” Central Baptist.  This would be a lot easier claim to make had I founded Central, but I didn’t so it’s not really something I’ll ever be able to claim anyway.  Central Baptist is not “mine,” and even if I’m here for 20 or 30 years there will still be those marks from other pastors still on this Church (some good, some bad).  We can reform, restructure, and recommit ourselves over an over again – but cultural memory tends to linger for a long time.  Second, if this congregation doesn’t “belong” to me, it doesn’t belong to any of the folks sitting in the pews either.  Central, and really every congregation, belongs to Jesus.  We belong to the Church because we belong to Jesus.

I think a lot of congregational renewal trips up on these two points quite a bit.  Both pastors, and the congregations they serve both fall into the trap of shouting, “Mine!”  Frequently with disastrous results.  Yet, no one looking at the status of many congregations can come to any conclusion besides the fact that congregations are in desperate need of renewal.  The question is, “How can this renewal happen without falling into the ‘mine!’ trap?”

My answer, ironically enough, is partially inspired by a tee-shirt meant to show how insignificant the Earth (and, therefor, people) are in the grand scheme of things.  You’d probably seen it, a shirt with a picture of a spiral galaxy on the front with an insignificant speck on it with a point reading, “You are here” on it.  It’s meant to make you feel small – and it accomplishes it it’s task pretty well.  Yet, it’s also meant to show you how we’re part of a reality bigger than we can possibly know – and this is what I want Central to come to understand.  We are part of a story greater than we are typically aware of – greater than 16 other pastors or our own parents and grandparents.  We belong to, and are part of, a story thousands of years old.  A story which spans continents and languages and cultures.  A story which we can never, ever, possess – but are wonderfully and graciously invited to be joined with.  If we can be both humbled by, and awe-struck with, this story we are bound to in Jesus – then the “mine!” dilemma can be revealed for that shallowness that it is.