Twenty Years a Steward of God’s Mysteries

June 18, 2000 was Father’s Day, and it started out right: with the 8am service at my home church, St. Mark Lutheran in North Tonawanda, New York. I was there with my parents and with Pastor Kim Scharff and his wife, Mary. Kim and Mary had left their seven children at home to be with me on one of the most important days of my life: the day I would be Ordained into the Office of the Holy Ministry. It was appropriate that my biological and spiritual fathers were both there. I learned from Alan and Kathy what it means to be a Christian; I learned from Kim and Mary what it means to be a pastor and serve God’s people in the Holy Ministry. (It was also one of the last times I would see my maternal grandparents.)

That afternoon we gathered again at St. Mark. A small group of pastors gathered together along with friends and family and members of St. Mark. This collection of saints had seen me grow from childhood, supported me when I was still studying to be a Lutheran high school English teacher, and had the misfortune of hearing the first sermon I wrote during college. Fortunately, I was a much better preacher by the time I was placed there for fieldwork during my final year at the seminary. 

Pastor Scharff preached the sermon—I’ll include it at the end of this post. Pastor Doellinger, who was serving St. Mark at the time, administered the Rite of Ordination. And then I took over, celebrating the Sacrament of the Altar for the first time as the Officiant. A little over a month later, I would be Installed in my first parish. But June 18, 2000 was the beginning.

I’ve been a pastor for 20 years as of today. I’m right around middle age for a pastor, and I can feel that in the aches in my body and the increased confidence I have in using the gifts God has given me to serve His people. There are many joys in being a pastor—baptizing newborns and adults, teaching young people the Christian faith, delivering God’s gifts to His people (this is not an exhaustive list)—and these are rich blessings from the Lord of the Church. Still, it is not an easy path. The four years and seven months I spent without a Call, not to mention the two years leading up to that, certainly attest to this reality. The trials of the Ministry can be heartbreaking, and that heartbreak wears on a man. I love what I do, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything, but I wouldn’t mind if God were to help me to be able more fully to enjoy the wonders a little more often and to endure and focus less on the sadness. That I do not always live and serve this way is my failing, not His.

This anniversary is just a touch bittersweet. As I thought about this day over the past few months, I’d planned to call Pastor Scharff and thank him once again for sharing that day with me. I can’t make that call; Kim is no longer there to answer. The Lord has given him rest from his labors. But I learned from Kim to be a pastor, and I wouldn’t have made it to this day—or even to that day 20 years ago—without him. 

So...here’s to another twenty years. At least. To God alone be the glory.

____________________

Here’s the Ordination sermon preached by the Reverend Kim Scharff. How right and fitting that he should share his wisdom with me once again. This is just as relevant today as it was twenty years ago.

What is a Pastor? What Can He Give?

St. Luke 10:16 and Augsburg Confession V

In the name of the Father and of the Son (+) and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Ours is a cynical age. What do you mean, pastor? Do we even know what “cynical” means? The Oxford English Dictionary defines a “cynic” as “one who has little faith in human sincerity.” And so, again, ours is a cynical age. Isn’t it true that we tend to assume, as often as not, that people just aren’t being truthful with us? What do you think when a politician tells you something? Aren’t you just a bit skeptical about whether or not he is telling the truth? What about the newscaster who peers at you through the television monitor; don’t you wonder just a bit about whether or not he is telling you the whole story? I think it was Mark Twain who said that he did not believe anything he heard and only half of what he could see. That’s just healthy skepticism, some would say; a good thing. But, is it a good thing? Is it a good thing over against the things of God? Is it a good way to approach the Office of the Holy Ministry?

Just a little over a hundred and fifty years ago, our Lutheran Church-Missouri Synod was born in the midst of cynicism over against the Office of the Holy Ministry. If you are not aware of this fact, you really should do some reading on the early years of our Church; you will find it interesting and enlightening. Some have even questioned, justifiably in my judgment, whether or not we have ever really gotten over those particular birth pains of our church body. Is there cynicism out there in the Church now about the Office of the Holy Ministry?

The words of our Lord Jesus Christ, from St. Luke’s Gospel, address this issue straight on. “He who hears you hears Me…” --- What is a pastor? If we are going to avoid being cynical about the Office of the Ministry, then we need an answer to this question. How does Jesus answer it? “He who hears you, hears Me…” The Office of the Holy Ministry is the voice of Jesus Christ in His Church. A pastor is the man God has put in His Church for the specific purpose of carrying out these words of our Lord: “Go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you…” (St. Matthew 28:18,19)

When our pastor faithfully speaks God’s Word to us, we are hearing the voice of Jesus. When he baptizes and offers us the body and blood of the Lord, his hands are the hands of Jesus. When he hears our confession and speaks the words of absolution to us, it is the voice of Jesus that we are hearing. Now, some would suggest that this is being a bit presumptuous. Jesus faced the same criticism when He told the paralytic not only to rise and go home, but that his sins were forgiven. They said of Him: “Why does this man speak thus? It is blasphemy. Who can forgive sins but God alone?” (St. Mark 2:7) St. Matthew offers this commentary: “When the crowds saw it they were afraid, and they glorified God who had given such authority to men.” (St. Matthew 9:8)

But, again, some would say that this is rather presumptuous. And yet, isn’t this precisely what we believe and confess? Listen to the Small Catechism on this matter: “I believe that when the called ministers of Christ deal with us by His divine command, especially when they exclude manifest and impenitent sinners from the Christian congregation, and, again, when they absolve those who repent of their sins and are willing to amend, this is as valid and certain, in heaven also, as if Christ, our dear Lord, dealt with us Himself.” --- Admittedly, this is a position that gives some people trouble. If a pastor is merely a “man among men,” then what he says and does carries no more weight than anyone else; it is only his opinion in the midst of many other opinions that bear equal significance. But, if the pastor is the voice of Jesus Christ; if he truly is the one God has put there to forgive the sins of the penitent and to retain the sins of the impenitent; if he is the one who is there to speak God’s words of life and hope; if he is, in fact, the one whom God has given to feed His people with the blessed Word and Sacraments, then we dare not take a cynical attitude toward what he says and does. “He who hears you hears Me, and he who rejects you rejects Me, and he who rejects Me rejects Him who sent Me.” This is what is at stake in our view of the Office of the Holy Ministry.

Now, you may say: “But isn’t it true, pastor, that there are some who abuse the Office of the Ministry by their teaching and by their actions?” Of course, that is true, and those who would abuse the Office of Jesus Christ in such ways are not fit for the office and should not hold it. Indeed, they should be removed from it, if necessary. But, at the same time, we need to be very careful that we do not cynically assume that every pastor will do this, if given the chance. Faithful pastors are a great blessing from God, and we can never honor that office highly enough because it has been given to us by our Lord Jesus Christ, out of His love and mercy toward His Church.

So, this is what a pastor is. But, there is another question, of equal significance, for which we need an answer if we are to avoid being cynical towards the Office of the Holy Ministry. What can a pastor give? The Augsburg Confession, which we believe to be a faithful exposition of the teaching of Holy Scripture, says: “In order that such faith may be obtained, God has instituted the Office of the Ministry, for the preaching of the Gospel and administering of the Sacraments. Through these, as through means, He gives the Holy Spirit, who works faith, when and where He pleases, in those who hear the Gospel…” --- I remember one of my seminary professors telling us that the preaching and teaching of God’s Word and administering the Holy Sacraments, is a full time, and more than a full time, vocation. Any pastor, He said, who does this work faithfully and fully will have neither time nor inclination to do much of anything else. After nearly two decades in the ministry, I think I am beginning to understand what he meant, and it goes right to the heart of what we are discussing. --- The Lord of the Church very carefully prescribes what a pastor can give. And I use the word “prescribe” purposely, because there are limits that have been set. Creating and sustaining faith is the “business”, if you will, of the Office of the Ministry. “In order that such faith may be obtained…,” the confession says.

What do we expect of our pastors? What expectations will the members of St. Paul and St. Peter have of Pastor Kornacki? If our expectations fall beyond the boundaries of Word and Sacrament, then they are expectations we really should not have. I am not speaking here about questions of morality and ethics; that is an issue unto itself. I am talking about the work of a pastor. It is not the work of pastors to try and solve all the world’s problems, though it is their task to apply the healing balm of the Gospel to the problems of the heart and soul. It is not the work of pastors to build the communities in which they live into little “divine fortresses,” though it certainly is their work to build up those committed to their care that they might, in turn, bear a righteous witness among the neighbors. It is not the work of pastors to “fatten” the church’s bank account, though it surely is their work to hold before the people of God that wonderful generosity of the Father in heaven, who not only provides all that we need to support our bodies and lives, but who also gave His own dear Son into suffering and death as the sacrifice for our sins; the price of our redemption. --- “In order that such faith may be obtained, God has instituted the Office of the Ministry, for the preaching of the Gospel and administering of the Sacraments…” That is all, but, surely, that is enough! It is enough because, in the end, it is all we really need. It is enough because, in His wisdom, this is the boundary that God Himself has set for this office He intends to bless.

In the eyes of the world, the Church is a strange enterprise. The same can be said for the Office of the Holy Ministry. Success and validity in this world are measured by what and how much you produce. What do you have to show for what you are doing? What’s your “bottom line?” Or, to put a more “religious” cast on it, how many new members did you gain last year? How many converts have you had in the last five years? When that is the standard by which both Church and Ministry are measured, we will, most often, to quote (or should it be misquote) the prophet Daniel, be “weighed in the balance, and found wanting.” But, what if someone had come to Jesus after His “Bread of Life” sermon in John 6 and asked Him about how His following had grown? What could He have said? His followers were leaving Him like rats leaving a sinking ship. Only twelve remained, and, no doubt, some of them were weighing their options. And yet, that may be precisely what happens when the Church and the Ministry are saying and doing what God has given them to say and do.

The Kingdom of God is hidden; it is hidden behind the cross of Christ. May we never forget that the blessed Gospel, which we hold so dear, and to which we cling with all our might is, at the same time, the greatest offense the world has ever known. It insists that as man is helpless, so God reigns supreme. As man can do nothing to save himself, so God can and has and will do everything. And therein lies the cynicism of the world over against what you and I, as pastors and as the people of God, believe and do. We walk by faith, not by sight, and that is something which a cynic, whether inside or outside the church, can never accept. --- And yet, this is just what moves us to rejoice on this day! We give ourselves over into the hands of God, convinced of His love for us and His intention to bless us. As the Church, we rejoice that the Church’s Lord has called and now sends another man to serve in His holy office. And you, brother, rejoice in that same certainty that it is the call of the Lord of the Church that you have heard and now will answer. The time has come to lay aside whatever doubts and fears we may have. The God of all grace lives and reigns forever and ever. He gives His people faith in His lovingkindess and tender mercy. And He places into the hands and hearts and voices of His pastors the Word of life. “He who hears you hears Me,” to which we joyfully give answer, “Thanks be to God!” In the name of the Father and of the Son (+) and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. 

In Memoriam: A Pastor's Study After

This is the pastor’s study at Trinity Lutheran Church in Norborne, Missouri. It’s mostly empty now--I wish I had taken a "before" picture--but for the past 32 years it has been occupied by the Reverend Kim Scharff, whose funeral is this weekend.

It’s strange to see it bereft of books, for Kim was an avid reader. Of course he read theology in all its disciplines, but his reading interests were varied and wide: history, classic literature, politics, current events, and music all decorated his shelves. Kim was a brilliant man. He read and absorbed all these books, pondered what he read, and was able to speak intelligently about what he’d read, both in agreement and in disagreement.

Music was another constant in the study during Kim’s tenure. The CD player (and the cassette player before that) was constantly running, and anyone entering would be welcomed by the strains of J.S. Bach, Duruflé, Stravinsky, Vaughn Williams, Mozart, Rachmaninoff, or any of hundreds of other composers whose music graced his shelves. His taste in music vastly improved my own, to the extent that I had made a list of albums in his collection that I wanted in mine, and I’ve spent the past twenty-plus years acquiring them.

I was blessed to spend a year in that study, learning from him as a vicar. We spent long hours in there, praying, reading, writing, discussing a variety of topics, and sometimes sitting quietly, enjoying heavenly compositions.

It stands empty for now. Life goes on. With Kim’s death, Trinity will, for the first time since 1988, seek to Call a new pastor to serve them, serve with them, and be served by them. A new pastor will walk into this study, put his books on shelves, and sit at the desk. He will write sermons, pray for the flock in his care, and prepare to teach young and old about the wonderful works of God. It won’t be the same...and yet it will, for Christ will use this man to preach His Word and to deliver His Gifts to the people He places into this new pastor’s care, just as He did with Pastor Scharff.

I will miss Pastor Scharff, my friend, mentor, bishop, and spiritual father and brother. Trinity Lutheran Church in Norborne will miss Pastor Scharff, their undershepherd, the man who baptized, confirmed, married, and buried a generation of their congregation. But life goes on. God is good. Kim is at rest with his beloved Mary, awaiting the Resurrection of all flesh at the Last Day. And we will be reunited with him—first, as we gather “with angels and archangels and with all the company of heaven” at the Communion rail, and then forever.

It’s a good study in a good church with wonderful people. And God is good, too. Knowing both these things, I know the study won’t be empty long.

Everbook: Modular Planner

Organization has never really been my strong point. I've always kept a calendar of some sort, and I usually do a weekly to-do list in my pocket notebook. That being said, it seems like things always get lost in the cracks of life. I always say, "If I don't write it down, it won't happen." There's more truth to that than I like to admit, because people tell me things, and they disappear into the black hole of my cranium.

Into this void comes the Everbook. Everbook is a modular planner designed by Pastor Bryan Wolfmueller and Pastor Jonathan Fisk, and it is based on the principles set forth by David Allen in his book, Getting Things Done: The Art of Stress-Free Productivity. I actually purchased this book back in 2016, I believe at the recommendation of Pastor William Weedon, but the fatalistic perfectionist in me decided that I couldn't organize my life in such a regimented fashion. The planner suggested by Pastors Wolfmueller and Fisk (henceforth known in this post as "W&F"), however, intrigued me. So I decided to give it a whirl. As you will be able to see (especially when you compare my Everbook to ones you see on the website), adaptability is the main feature of the Everbook.

The planner that W&F assembled is sized 5.5" x 8.5". I tried that, but it just wasn't working for me. It was too compact for me. So I decided I would go with a letter-sized planner, 8.5" by 11". So far this is working for me. I serve two congregations about 25 miles apart. Last week I had to pick hymns for the second quarter of 2019, assemble bulletins and sermons for our midweek Lent service and two funerals as well as writing my sermon for Sunday worship. Usually so much would feel overwhelming. But I put everything on a to-do list, turned my to-do list into a calendar for the week, and got to work. While I still stressed over it--I jokingly say that worry is my spiritual gift!--everything on the weekly to do list was completed on time.

Anyway, if you want to see the original design of the Everbook, look at the website. There's lots of good stuff. But here's how Everbook works for me.

I'd bought a planner a few years back with a leather cover. Up until I adopted Everbook, I used it just as a calendar, though I would store things in it for transport. As you can see in this picture, this particular padfolio has a zipper closure, and the ability to keep your papers together and safe is an important aspect of the Everbook. This is a 9" by 12" padfolio and planner, and I bought it a few years back because I really liked the calendar it contained. Well, that, and I really (REALLY) like the look and durability of leather.

When you open the planner, you see a number of aspects. This particular planner comes with a pocket on the left side, and it has a zipper pocket built in for holding pencils. This is important for me, because I color-code my calendar: red for one congregation, blue for the other congregation, green for my Circuit Visitor activities and any district activities, and a regular lead pencil for personal items. These are mechanical colored pencils imported from Japan through Amazon, because I don't carry a sharpener around with me, but I like a nice sharp point on my pencils at all times. Anyway, there are also pockets for business cards, which I try to keep with me at all times because I try to remember to write the date on the back of them and leave them with my shut-ins so they and their family members remember when I was there.

When you look at the right side of the opened padfolio, you see file folder modules. I have cut them down to exactly 8.5" by 11" so full-sized sheets fit into them but the folders fit nicely into the padfolio. The original Everbook design uses 5.5" x 8.5" sheets folded in half for each module, but I have obsessive compulsive tendencies, and paper folders are too flimsy for me. Manilla folders give me more stability. I have a number of modules, each of them labeled for their use. I always keep "This Week" on top, because that is where all my imminent action items are kept. Under that is the "Blanks" folder in which I keep blank pieces of paper and templates for my weekly calendar, my worship planning pages, and baptism and funeral information forms. I use forms I've either adapted or unabashedly borrowed as is from W&F, Pastor Rick Cody, and Pastor Sean Daenzer. Because I like to use my Lamy Safari and Lamy Al-Star fountain pens, I use a 24lb. paper instead of plain copy paper, and I put lines on my blank sheets because I can't write straight otherwise, and it bugs me!

My "Calendars" folder contains my completed hymn picks sheets for the quarter, my junior catechesis assignment sheet for the school year, and a calendar with blanks for every day of next year. As you will see later, I keep a full 24-month calendar in the back of my planner, as I just can't seem to let that go. The "Workstation" module contains action items that will be dealt with beyond this week. For example, I had a filled-in baptism information sheet in that folder last week, but since the baptism is this coming Sunday, I have moved it from the Workstation module to the This Week module. The "Inbox" module is where I put items that have been handed to me. If someone writes down information and hands it to me before or after worship, it goes in the Inbox folder. Whatever goes into the Inbox folder will later be moved into either the This Week module or the Workstation folder.

The "Projects" module contains long-term items, things like my notes on the second edition of Lutheran Purgatory, any progress or ideas for the eventual publishing of my hymn texts in a book, or even notes on whatever hymn text I'm currently contemplating. And finally, the "Journal" module contains completed tasks and calendars. These will eventually be moved into storage outside of the Everbook, once I'm pretty sure I won't need to review them or use them for a report for one of my congregations or the district/circuit. Behind that, I keep my full-sized monthly calendar.

I am grateful to W&F for bringing this highly adaptable planner into existence. It's all common sense, which means it was far above my ability to assemble on my own! *wink* I highly recommend Everbook to you, particularly if you struggle to keep your life organized as I do. Peruse the website and see how others have adapted Everbook to their needs. I believe this could be a worthwhile project for you.

Called and Installed: A New Adventure

For my 700th blog post(!!!), I decided I'd go big—so big, in fact, that it takes a second church building and congregation for me to make it happen. Earlier in 2016, Pastor Mark Buetow, who had been serving at Bethel Lutheran Church in Du Quoin, Illinois, received a Call to serve a congregation a little ways outside Chicago. His acceptance of that call (the traitor! *wink*) led the members of the Bethel congregation to consider their future. And after much consideration, they decided to contact my congregation, St. Peter Lutheran Church in Campbell Hill, Illinois. The members of Bethel asked the members of St. Peter to consider joining them in a dual parish arrangement. This meant, among other things, that they would share me as their pastor.

In July, after more consideration and prayer, not to mention a number of meetings full of questions and compromises to hash out details, both congregations voted overwhelmingly to join together as a dual parish. For various reasons, the agreement would not take effect until January 1, 2017. However, I would serve Bethel as their vacancy pastor until that time. I would have to be officially Installed as the pastor of the dual parish, and, having already been Installed at St. Peter in May of 2010, we made the decision to have the dual parish Installation at Bethel. I asked to have it the weekend after Thanksgiving so my parents could attend, since they had already planned to come for Thanksgiving.

So we went ahead with the Installation on the 27th of November. The Reverend President Timothy Scharr of the Southern Illinois District officiated at the Installation. Pastor Kirk Clayton of Zion Lutheran Church in Mascoutah was the preacher, and his sermon brought together the names of the two congregations. (I can't post the text of his sermon, since he preaches from an outline, but you can download the audio of his sermon here.) Pastor Peter Ill of Trinity Lutheran Church in Millstadt was the liturgist. A number of area pastors participated in the laying-on/holy-hover-of-hands. And then, after the Installation, most of us drove from Bethel to St. Peter, where the ladies of both congregations (and a few men, for that matter) put together an impressive meal.

For many of the members, this was their first interaction with members of their new sister congregation. Everything I'd hoped for—love, cooperation, and a joyful spirit—came together on that day. Campbell Hill and Du Quoin may be about 25 miles apart, but the love of Christ has a way of bringing people together, no matter how far apart they may live and worship.

This will change things for all of us. Both congregations are used to having their own pastor; they now share me. Both congregations originally met for Divine Service at 10am; St. Peter now meets at 9am and Bethel at 10:45am. Bethel was used to having the pastor at their preschool every day; now he's only there two days each week. There are others. Many others. Our task going forward together is to do our best to make the arrangement work. I don't think that will be a problem.

And things have changed for the Kornacki family, too. After leaving North Dakota, I said I'd never serve a dual parish again. After writing a book which could be seen as critical of Synod, I also said I'd never receive another Call. If you want to make the Lord laugh, tell Him your plans or say "never." I'm once again taking care of two congregations, which means I have more shut-in and hospital visits, more meetings, more responsibilities, and more time away from my family. It also means I get to work with two youth groups, two church councils, two wonderful organists, and a bunch of preschool kids. I also have a second set of bookshelves, which means I can buy more books! We were able to purchase a new vehicle, which, honestly, we needed. The Lord continues to provide for my family, just as He continues to provide for the two congregations it is now my privilege to serve.

Thank you to everyone who made the day so special! I'll leave you with the picture of the pastors at my Installation. What a seedy-looking bunch of characters!

Left to right: Rev. Timothy Scharr, Rev. Peter Ill, Rev. Kirk Clayton, me, Rev. James Leistico, Rev. Chris Agne, Rev. Timothy Landskroener (also known as OP: Old Pastor), and Rev. Timothy Sims.

Ten Years

October 12, 2005 was the worst day of my life. I've told the story before: how my district president called me aside at the end of the district church worker conference to tell me he was placing me on Restricted Status with the possibility of removing me from the clergy roster; how the senior pastor called me on the way home to tell me I was required to be present at a meeting; how the president of the congregation told me the congregation's elders voted to demand my resignation, and how they'd withhold any severance if I were to resist; how I called my wife, 28 weeks pregnant with our twins, and decided with her to resign; how, with my wife 32 weeks pregnant, we moved out of the church's house at their demand, making the long trip to Louisiana from Ohio; how I remained on Restricted Status for 10 months, even though the district president made the decision that my offense was an error in judgment, not gross misconduct that merited removal from the clergy roster; how I spent four years, seven months, and four days without a parish to serve.

That was ten years today. That's a quarter of my life so far, give or take a few months. My life and the circumstances in which I find myself today have improved dramatically over the course of those ten years: the birth of the twins; my eventual employment at the Amelia Community Center; preaching in numerous churches in Louisiana (and one in Mississippi); receiving the Call to serve as pastor of St. Peter Lutheran Church in Campbell Hill, Illinois; the love my family and I have received in our five-plus years here. I am, to put it mildly, content to be serving and living where I am.

Nevertheless, there are scars that remain from those dark days. My cynicism toward and distrust of Synodical bureaucracy remains, though it has been tempered at least some through the faithful service of my current district president. My discomfort on the days of congregation meetings is palpable, though the leaders and members of my current congregation have never given me reason to worry that they intend to seek my departure--if anything, the opposite is true, and the threats to keep me superglued to the pulpit should I try to leave are heartwarming. My anger and hurt and shame regarding the events that transpired with the leaders of my previous congregation, though less heated, crop up unexpectedly. (I saw a picture yesterday which was taken in the fellowship hall of that church, and my reaction was visceral. That was the room where the meeting took place, where I was forced to resign. That's what I call fellowship!) Fighting that anger is a common battle for me. There have been times I've felt I've won the battle, let it all go, but then the anger roars back. It is a common topic when I visit my Father Confessor. And those are just my issues. My family has their own to deal with as a result of our years in exile. You'd think that after ten years, after spending more than five of those years back in parish ministry, these things would just go away. Then again, as my friend Sandra said, "PTSD is the gift that keeps on giving."

Still, hindsight being what it is, I can see blessings now from those days that I was blind to back then--or if not blind, I did not appreciate them as I should have. I was able to be a full-time father to my twins for nearly a full year. When I finally did find a job, it was one in a field in which I had experience, one which kept my mind active, one which allowed me to accept the invitations I received to preach. And those invitations were plentiful--indeed, I think the pastors and congregations occasionally invented opportunities to ask me to visit. I won't spend the day enumerating each blessing--there are too many to count!--but I'm in a position to appreciate them more now than I had graciousness to do so at the time.

And now I'm also in a position to do some good. I wrote a book about my experiences (and the experiences of other pastors who, like me, found themselves on the outside looking in). Though Lutheran Purgatory: Pastors Without Calls has been ignored and in some cases ridiculed by many of those who most need to take it to heart, it has brought awareness of the greater problem of how we as members of the body of Christ treat our brothers and their families in these difficult circumstances, and the sale of this book has allowed me to raise some money to support my brothers and their families in times of need. I was asked by the Association of Confessing Evangelical Lutheran Congregations to present at their annual conference on this subject, and as the opening speaker I had the opportunity to set the table for the rest of the presenters. (You can listen to my presentation by right-clicking this link and saving to your own computer.) This is a subject our Synod now realizes is a troublesome one, one that gives lie to the idea that we're in koinonia (fellowship--what we've taken to calling our "life together"), that we are earnest and quick to display our diakonia (service--what we call "mercy") toward each other. I hope that our Synod in convention next summer will act to address these issues and will respond appropriately to what the Synod's task force on this issue brings to the table, whether their report deserves praise and action or rejection and re-tasking.

Ten years. It's strange to think of how my life and the lives of my family members has changed over that time, how our time in exile has affected us. But one thing that has remained constant in all of this, the good, the bad, and the ugly, is that God has remained good to us. Whether or not the wounds fully heal here in time, the Day is coming when the wounds will be healed, when we will finally be fully at peace with the events and the people. God grant it for the sake of His Son, Jesus.

CRM and the Battle

I wrote a book about a problem. Yeah, it really hasn't seemed like it made a lot of difference. Nothing has changed. In fact, the task force that was formed to address the problem of pastors without congregations seems to be recommending a fix for the problem that resembles the current methodology which exascerbated the initial problem.

I wrote a book about the problem. I made the book about the problem available for free, and I also offered an option which would allow me to raise some funds to address the problem. I sent e-mails and letters and press releases about the book about the problem. I did a radio interview about the book about the problem. No, I haven't been a one-man explosion of CRM awareness to light up the whole of the Lutheran Church--Missouri Synod. I have not received any hate mail or threatening phone calls. Perhaps that means I haven't been aggressive enough. 

Or perhaps that means I haven't been persistent enough. And I'm going to behave as if that's the case. I'm going to keep addressing the problem. I wrote a book. I sent letters and e-mails and press releases. I even sent the book itself in some cases. And I'm going to keep writing. I'm going to keep sending letters and e-mails and press releases. I'll even send some more books. I'll make presentations. I may not be a major affliction, but I will continue to be a persistent irritant. And I'm not the only one fighting the battle. Maybe we'll all find a way to make a difference in our own ways. 

I'm not a Marine. But I am a survivor, and that's something.

To purchase a Kindle copy of this book for $2.99 (and each copy purchased will bring in $1 for charity), click this link: KINDLE EDITION OF LUTHERAN PURGATORY! Amazon Prime members can also borrow this document for free, and Amazon will give me a small royalty which will go directly to charity.

To purchase a print edition of this book for $4.99 through Amazon (and each copy purchased will bring in $0.84 for charity), click this link: PRINT EDITION OF LUTHERAN PURGATORY!

To purchase a print edition of this book for $4.99 through CreateSpace (and each copy purchased will bring in $1.84 for charity), click this link: PRINT EDITION OF LUTHERAN PURGATORY!

To download a FREE .pdf file of this book, which I offer so that money isn't a deterrent in the spread of this important information, click this link: DOWNLOAD FREE PDF OF LUTHERAN PURGATORY!

And to read reviews that don't appear on Amazon.com, CLICK THIS LINK.


Thank you for your time and attention.

LUTHERAN PURGATORY BOOK now available!

As most of you probably know—and by now you've probably heard me talk about it to the point that you're ready to beat your head (or mine) against a brick wall—I was a pastor without a congregation for over four and a half years. It was a horrible time in the life of my family, and I thank God every day that it's over. I've written a booklet about that experience, and I also share the experiences of other pastors who have experienced similar circumstances in their life. On any given day, we have over 200 of these pastors, and a number of these brothers in Christ have graciously shared with me the horrible conditions in which they and their families now live. God continues to be gracious and provide for His children. Now we, too, must show compassion to them in their need.

Lutheran Purgatory: Pastors Without Calls takes us through the whole story: how pastors become Candidates (which is another name for pastors without congregations), what happens right after they lose their positions, the day to day struggles they face with their families, and the long and hard road they face to return to parish ministry. We also see the difficulties they face once they do return to parish ministry—for the scars remain. Finally, I offer suggestions for steps the Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod can take to minimize the problem. 

I don't plan on making any money off of this project. I wrote this to help educate our pastors and laypeople about this issue. I will offer a free .pdf download of this document, but any money that comes in to me (after Amazon takes their part of the royalties after expenses) from those who buy this book will be donated to an entity which aids such pastors: possibly the Augustana Ministerium, which has handed out over $172,000 in aid directly to pastors and their families in their need; or possibly Soldiers of the Cross, a program of the Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod which works through district offices to provide for pastors in need. 

FROM THE AMAZON WEBSITE: "The Office of the Holy Ministry within the Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod is in crisis. It is under attack from pastors who act like corporate executives and arrogant overlords, from bureaucrats who believe a pastor is a failure if he doesn't act like a corporate executive or a used car salesman, and from congregations who believe pastors are merely employees to be hired, evaluated, and fired. Too many pastors have fallen prey to these attitudes and the actions which follow. We call them Candidates, but these men and their families are our brothers and sisters in Christ, and they are suffering. These Candidates, pastors without congregations, suffer in the closest thing Lutherans have to purgatory. These are their stories. Lord willing, we can end their suffering."

To purchase a Kindle copy of this book for $2.99 (and each copy purchased will bring in $1 for charity), click this link: KINDLE EDITION OF LUTHERAN PURGATORY! Amazon Prime members can also borrow this document for free, and Amazon will give me a small royalty which will go directly to charity.

To purchase a print edition of this book for $4.99 through Amazon (and each copy purchased will bring in $0.84 for charity), click this link: PRINT EDITION OF LUTHERAN PURGATORY!

To purchase a print edition of this book for $4.99 through CreateSpace (and each copy purchased will bring in $1.84 for charity), click this link: PRINT EDITION OF LUTHERAN PURGATORY!

To download a FREE .pdf file of this book, which I offer so that money isn't a deterrent in the spread of this important information, click this link: DOWNLOAD FREE PDF OF LUTHERAN PURGATORY!

Please share a link to this blog post with as many of your friends and congregation members as possible! We need to get this information out! And please pray for these pastors and their families.

Thank you for your time and consideration.



EDITED TO ADD: 

GOOD REVIEWS FOR "LUTHERAN PURGATORY"

It's been just under two months since I released Lutheran Purgatory: Pastors Without Calls, and the response has been amazing! I have no way of tracking how may people may have downloaded the free PDF file. However, despite the fact that the book is available for free as a PDF file, over one-hundred people have paid for either Kindle or print versions. That means I will be able to donate over $200 dollars to aid pastors without congregations. That amount is a mere drop in the ocean of what is needed to help these pastors as they await the repair of this broken system, but even a drop can make a difference! I would like to thank everyone who has downloaded or purchased this book. I apologize for any typos or proofreading errors you may find. That's a danger of self-publishing, of course. As I find these errors (or as others point them out to me--hopefully gently), I will fix them in the Kindle edition and in subsequent print editions. I also hope to update the book in time. More pastors have shared their tales with me, and readers have shared questions or concerns about what I've written.

In the meantime, I have heard a lot of good things from readers who have shared their responses with me. You can see some responses on my Amazon author's page. In addition to these, I have seen responses on independent blogs and on Facebook, and I would like to share some of those with you, especially if you're wondering if this is worth reading.

"Stop whatever you are doing and READ THIS BOOK. Just remember, once you've read it, you can't unread it." -- Rev. Todd Wilken, host of Issues, Etc.

"This is non-fiction--scary non-fiction. ...We commend this for your reading, edification, and action, as the 2013 LCMS Convention acted in care and loving concern for pastors without a call." -- Rev. Paul Cain, host of the Liturgy, Hymnody, and Pulpit Quarterly Book Review blog

"This book should not only be required reading for members of the synod’s candidate committee. It should be read and placed on the agenda of the Council of Presidents. Pastors should make sure their DP’s have a copy. Ask them to discuss it with other District Presidents. Then follow up after COP meetings and see if they did so. Everything he says about what a pastor goes through is true." -- Rev. Lincoln Winter, host of the Musings of a Country Parson blog"

"Pastor Kornacki accurately describes the 'heavy, pressing emotions' (my description) that accompany these statuses. He accurately describes the inability to pray, to worship, and to otherwise participate in the life of the church. People who have 'been there' need to know they are not alone; and their feelings and responses are common with others. Members of the LCMS Council of Presidents and the Resolution 3-10a Task Force all need to buy the book and put it in their library. They have no excuse, because they can even get it for free to put on their laptops, or in PDF on their smart phone.They need to read this book carefully and then ask, 'How could this be happening to our own people? What is wrong here?' Because some of the cases cited describe improper actions by the District Presidents. Or in some cases, the actions are clearly unjust, even when the District President followed the Sohns 'Divine Dismissal' document. This book will open eyes to real problems to which many are clueless." -- Rev. Martin Noland, former Director of the Concordia Historical Institute, former Candidate

I hope that, should you read it or if you already have read it, you will send me your comments, questions, and concerns. Also, please keep praying for our pastors and their families who are mired in Lutheran Purgatory.

Thank you!

Pastors and Grave Sin

The danger of choosing sinful men to serve in the Office of the Holy Ministry is that these are sinful men, and these men do not stop being sinners just because they have been chosen to serve. I've been involved in a discussion of what happens when (for the purposes of this post, as I don't have one particular case in mind) a hypothetical pastor is found to have committed a grave moral failing, a sin of such proportions that he is found to be no longer worthy to serve in the Office of the Holy Ministry. Now, this hypothetical man has confessed his error and has rightly resigned his position and has accepted removal from the clergy roster. Some would say that, mindful of I Timothy 3, he is no longer "above reproach" or "of good reputation with those outside the Church," and so he must be removed from the clergy roster AND he must remain silent from that point on. He must not be allowed to teach Sunday School or Bible classes; he must not be allowed to serve in any lay congregational office; he must not be chosen to write for the Synod's publishing arm or Synodical publications; he must not speak (or possibly even participate) at conferences sponsored by any body of the Church--all so that he does not exacerbate the pain of those who were affected by and continue to be suffering because of the man's grave moral failing. 

I admit that I am very sensitive, maybe overly sensitive, to such things. After having been placed on Restricted Status by a District President (who from the very start admitted that my sin was an error in judgment and not a grave moral failing), and according to the by-laws of Synod being completely unable to perform the duties of the Office of the Holy Ministry for nearly eight months while on Restricted Status for what was not a grave moral failing, I'm not altogether convinced by the idea that reputation as we view it today is a permanent bar to any sort of public participation in the life of the Church. I know how easy it is to tarnish or even destroy a man's reputation, rightly or wrongly. For a man who rightly is removed from the clergy roster, that is rightly a temporal consequence of sin. That being said, what other temporal consequences are there? Do they need to be laid out plainly, or do we make them up as we go along? Does such sin merit a life sentence without possibility of parole in the prison of the Church--allowed to live as forgiven, yet for all intents and purposes completely segregated from the daily life of the Church?

I am not insensitive to the pain of those affected by scandals caused by pastors who have been caught in a gross public sin. Such pain lingers, I know, and it affects how victims of such sin view the Church and even the Lord. However, I am also not insensitive to the thought that the man who has sinned is forgiven in the eyes of God and the Church, has accepted the temporal consequences of his actions by resigning his position, and has learned important lessons of forgiveness--especially forgiveness for sins that tend to burden the consciences of all sinners, clergy and laity--which he has the opportunity to share with the Church. Should he be a pastor again? I don't think so (but then again, that would have excluded Peter the denier and Paul the murderer from serving as well). Should a child molester, for example, be allowed to teach Sunday School? Certainly not. Should an embezzler be allowed to serve as congregation treasurer? Don't be silly. Should the man be gagged and kept in the closet, to be part of the Church but unable to be part of the life of the Church? No. Within reason, and certainly with sensitivity to the pain of those who have been hurt by the sin committed by this man, I believe the Church has the opportunity to utilize such men to continue to teach the Church--no longer as pastors, but as sinners with theological training who have a unique understanding of the power of forgiveness through the grace of God in their own lives.

GUEST POST: Waking up with Leah

Every so often I come across a real nugget of wisdom. Sometimes it's from pastors or seminary professors. Sometimes it's from a layperson. Sometimes it's even from agnostics or atheists. This time it comes from a former pastor and seminary professor who now works for a freight company.

Life as a Christian in the Church can be a lot more complex than one would think. Jesus said, "This is my commandment, that you love one another." Sinners that we are, we have a hard time with all of the commandments of God, but it seems sometimes that we have a very hard time with this one in particular. Chad Bird addresses what happens when one realizes that the Church on earth is not always what we would hope it would be. This post said a lot to me as I continue to struggle with the events of eight years ago.  (And I also like how, without directly saying so, it addresses those who say that they won't go to church because of all the hypocrites therein.)

Originally posted in his blog, you can read it here with his permission. If you would like to address Chad directly about his post, click the link in the previous sentence.

___________________________________

Waking up with Leah: Learning to Love a Disappointing Church

In the tiny Texas town where I grew up, sleeping in on Sunday morning was as inconceivable as rooting for someone besides the Dallas Cowboys on Sunday afternoon. Going to church made the list with apple pie and Chevrolet. My dad was a deacon; my mom a Sunday School teacher; and I was the typical daydreaming boy fidgeting in the pew. Fast-forward a couple of decades, and I found myself in a job where sleeping in on Sunday was highly frowned upon since the pulpit would’ve been quite empty without me. There I was: seminary trained, armed to the teeth with confessions and creeds, zealous to convert a world—or, at least, our Oklahoma town—to the faith once for all delivered to the saints.

Looking back at myself as that twenty-something pastor, I have to admit that I was almost as steeped in naïveté then as I was as a twelve year old boy. Sure, I knew plenty about the church, but it was heavily freighted with the good stuff. The good stuff of the ladies’ guild cooking casseroles for grieving families, youth groups pounding hammers in Mexico to build homes for the poor, a rancher showing up on the pastor’s doorstep with half a beef from his own herd to stock the freezer. But as good and giving and beautiful as the church can be, there’s a dark side, too, that at times can be dog ugly. The day I stumbled upon a secret meeting of the church leadership and one of the elders stood up and slammed the door in my face—that comes to mind. Over the years, there were the not-so-veiled threats of violence, pastors who broke the seal of confession, bishops issuing warnings about me, and occasional rumors about me so outrageous they could have been ripped from the cover of the National Enquirer. I learned plenty through those years, the most obvious lesson being that the church can be a place that’s just as mean and nasty and royally screwed up as the world.

Like the patriarch, Jacob, who after his wedding night, awoke to the wrong wife in his bed, I too one day opened my eyes to find that the Rachel with whom I had fallen in love, for whom I’d labored long years, was not the one beside me as the sun rose. I rolled over and came face-to-face with the uncomely, undesirable, older sister. And then I had a decision to make: leave the church, or learn to love Leah.

Have you been there? Maybe you too grew up with a congregation as your second home, perhaps even served in the ministry, but later encountered within its walls abuse or neglect or a whole host of other ills. While going through a divorce, or struggling with a sexually charged issue, you found not clasping hands of support but wagging fingers of accusation. As the shards of your broken life fell about you, when simply having a Christian show you they cared, when that alone would have meant the world to you, all you saw was the church’s back, turned away, walking the other direction. Or maybe you just slowly slipped away, skipping a Sunday here, a whole month there, and eventually never darkened the doors again, but not a single believer took the time to call or visit to reveal they missed you. You have your story, and I have mine, but all such accounts shoulder a common burden: the fellowship that is supposed to be a hospital for sinners can seem more like a religious country club, a xenophobic clique, or a horde of hypocrites. Call it what you may, it’s not been a church to you and for you. So what do you do? Do you leave or learn to love Leah, walk away from the church or stay?

I could’ve washed my hands of the whole affair and walked away. In fact, I gave serious thought to just that, and for several years, rarely planted my butt in a pew for, when I did, I could taste the bile rising up my throat. But over time, and through a whole lot of healing, re-wounding, and re-healing, I finally came to the point where I see and love Leah for what she is: a beautifully ugly church in whose arms I encounter the God who loves beautifully ugly sinners like me.

A beautifully ugly sinner like me—that’s where healing has to start, with an honest acknowledgement that there may be a slew of unattractive things about the church, but I’m no supermodel of holiness myself. Part of the way we humans deal with our grief or anger or guilt is to deflect any culpability from ourselves by blaming others for almost everything that goes wrong. And though there are important exceptions—such as the victims of sexual predators—most of us who’ve had a rocky relationship with the church must fess up to our own failings. There’s a good chance Leah finds me just as ugly as I find her. I see hypocrites in the church, but I see in my own soul times galore when I wore a mask of piety in public and a face of shame in private. I deplore how the church’s tongue can destroy a person’s reputation, but my own tongue loves the desserts of lies and rumors and gossip more than it loves the bread of honesty. In our society, where it seems everyone claims to be a victim, it needs to be said that we are all perpetrators ourselves. We struggle with the same faults with which we fault the church.

In addition to personal accountability, we’ve got to kill and bury any utopian daydreams we have about the church hitting the gym to tighten her glutes and getting a boob job so we have a hotter, sexier Leah. There has never been, nor will there ever be, a time when the church was flawless. Barely had Jesus ascended before the church descended into trouble. Squabbles arose, heresies spread, pastors played favorites, sexual immorality mushroomed, and hearts grew cold. In the last book of the Bible, there are letters from God to seven different churches. Although he commends those congregations for many good things, he also complains of them leaving their first love, holding to false teachers and teachings, spiritual death, and lukewarmness. And this while the church was still basking in the afterglow of the earthly ministry of Jesus! As long as there are people in the church, there will be problems, for if humanity is anything, it is problematic.

Therein is the reason I found my way (or rather, like a lost sheep, was carried) back to the church: because it’s a place pregnant with problems. Because of those imperfections, I fit in perfectly. If you’ve got it all together, have no struggles, live a full and happy life, free of sin, then the church is not for you. But if you struggle with selfishness, greed, lust, addiction, problem children, a cheating spouse, fear, loneliness, or anything else that plagues our race, then the church is the ideal place for you. For Leah struggles with all that crap, too. Don’t let the pretty stained glass and padded pews and vested clergy fool you; all around the church are wounded sinners wheeled about on gurneys, doctors sewing up stab victims, nurses checking IVs, and double amputees carried by the blind who are led by the mute while the deaf sing prayers for healing. The church is messy place for messed up people who are in dire need of a God who cares.

In uncomely, undesirable, older Leah, that’s just what you’ll find: a God who cares. You’ll find a God who was born of an unwed teen whose neighbors likely whispered was a slut. You’ll find a God who hung out with outcasts, welcomed whores as followers, touched untouchables, called bullshit on the holier-than-thous of his day, and walked eyes wide open into the clutches of those who would torture him to death so as to save a world that really didn’t think it needed saving. In the church you’ll encounter the God who takes all his beautiful and exchanges it for your ugly.

And so, after a few years of growing up, maturing in a some areas, and realizing a bit more clearly what life is all about, I can now honestly say, “Leah, just as you are—not who I want you to be, not who others say you should be—but just as you are: I love you.”

A CRM Appeal

My name is Alan Kornacki, and I am a parish pastor. That doesn’t sound like a very profound statement. However, though I was Ordained into the Office of the Holy Ministry in June of 2000 and have been pastor for over thirteen years now, for over four and a half years, I was not a parish pastor. In the Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod, this is often called “CRM,” an acronym from Candidatus Reverendi Ministerii—translated as Candidate for the Holy Ministry. In other words, I was a pastor without a congregation to serve.

You can read the full details of the circumstances that led me to Candidate Status on my blog if you’re interested, but there are two highly relevant details in the matter. The first is that the Board of Elders felt justified in asking for my resignation (and in threatening me if I didn’t resign willingly) even though I did not commit one of the “big three”—gross and/or unrepentant sin, false doctrine, or an inability to perform the functions of the Office—that usually merits a pastor being removed from a Call. In addition, I did not violate confidentiality or the Seal of the Confessional. The Scriptural grounds for my forced resignation were sketchy at best. Second, my District President (DP) felt justified in placing me on Restricted Status pending an investigation as to whether or not I should be removed from the clergy roster—meaning I could not consider or accept a Call to another congregation or serve in any pastoral capacity in any congregation other than the one which I was Called to serve until he decided whether or not I could still be a pastor. I had to ask permission to baptize my own children. For ten months I was on Restricted Status—unable to consider Calls to serve congregations, unable to even fill in for a vacationing pastor—because I kept a blog. Again, I was not guilty (or even accused) of committing one of the “big three,” nor did I violate confidentiality or the Seal of the Confessional, yet for ten months I was Restricted.

While I was on Restricted Status, the DP threatened me with the possibility of suspension and even removal from the clergy roster of the Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod. In December of 2005 he promised to remove me from Restricted Status as soon as I completed paperwork he was sending to me, but he did not remove me until August of 2006, though I returned the paperwork immediately. He wanted me to see a specialized counselor (affiliated with the ELCA) to assess my suitability for the Ministry, and he made this a condition of my removal from Restricted status. In his assessment of me to be shared with the specialized counselor he provided a list of concerns, and in that list of "concerns" he included the fact that I am "very conservative theologically". Finally, he warned me not to speak to other pastors who were on CRM, and he also warned me away from “rigid and ultra-conservative pastors, who do not have good relational skills.”

When I was forced to leave my congregation, my wife was thirty-two weeks pregnant with twins. We were told to be out of the parsonage in four weeks. Having nowhere else to go, we along with our seven year-old daughter moved from Ohio to southern Louisiana, into housing provided by a family member. This was right after Hurricane Katrina devastated the Gulf Coast, and the job market within an hour of where we were living was glutted with workers. For the first year I couldn’t even get a McDonald’s job. I applied for every job available, even ones for which I had no qualifications. Our twin children, delivered a month early, were mostly healthy other than the older twin's jaundice. However, the delivery, a c-section, caused painful physical issues for my wife, and emotional issues also arose for her after the birth of the twins. Needless to say, she wasn't able to work. What savings we had were depleted by the time I was finally able to find work, which happened a year to the day after my forced resignation, and our credit took a major hit. My DP, to be fair, did send some financial assistance in that first year, but inevitably it was accompanied by the command to "find some menial job" and the encouraging word that the district was "under no obligation" to aid my return to parish ministry.

Though finally employed, I still desired to return to parish ministry. Even after my removal from Restricted Status (after jumping through a number of hoops, including a clean bill of ministerial health from the ELCA counselors), first the DP who had placed me on Restricted Status, then the DP who replaced him when he retired, and then finally the DP who served in our new location did little to bring me relief during my time outside the parish. They didn't call to check up on me or pray with me. They did little to reassure me about my status on the clergy roster. Were it not for brother pastors—the "rigid" men the DP warned me against—I would have lost any and all hope of returning to the parish. As for the DPs, I *did* receive cards from the district office on the anniversaries of my Ordination. That's something, anyway.

These brothers against whom I was warned were also instrumental in keeping me emotionally functional and spiritually healthy. They called to check up on me—and my wife!—and to pray for us. They asked me to fill in for them when they went on vacation and even manufactured preaching opportunities for me at times. They made sure I received the Lord's Supper and offered themselves for Confession and Absolution. They listened when I complained, kicked me in the seat of the pants when I needed it, and encouraged me at all times to entrust my burdens to the Lord.

As time went on, the stress of the situation mounted. For me, weekends were hard times. Though it was good for me to be with my family, Sunday mornings in particular found me withdrawn. My wife finally had to point out to me that it felt to her like I was abandoning the family at times. And dealing with a withdrawn husband and father—who tended to be grumpy when he was around—was tough on my family.

Finally, after nearly four and a half years, my current congregation extended the Call to me to serve as their pastor. This was not the work of DPs. The congregation asked their outgoing pastor and the vacancy pastor for names of pastors they knew and trusted, and my name was among those they shared. My Installation—four years, seven months and four days after my forced resignation—was for my family a day of great joy.

Yet the scars remain. For me, meetings are still times of great stress. I start tensing up before a meeting, and it takes an hour after the meeting for me to loosen up. I second-guess decisions frequently.  Though my current congregation has had little negative to say about me, there's still a little something in me that can't help but worry that every meeting will have an ambush. I still wrestle with the shame and anger and frustration of those four years all the time. (Thank God for Individual Confession and Absolution!)  I escaped with little in the way of depression, and though I admit there were times when I thought my family might be better off without me, suicide was never more than a passing thought.

For me and for my wife, criticisms are still unnaturally hard to handle. "Is this the first sign of trouble?" "Is this the beginning of the end?" Again, my current congregation has never given even the slightest hint of seeking our removal, yet that seed of doubt that was planted nearly eight years ago and which was allowed to grow into poison ivy with little resistance for over four years is so hard to eradicate. It took a long time for my wife—raised in the Roman church—to see Lutherans in a positive light after seeing how we were treated, though the pastors and congregations in Louisiana who showed great love to us certainly did their part to help her see the positives.

As far as finances go, I doubt we'll ever fully recover from the damage of that year without work—especially not with the student loans accrued by attending one if the colleges of the Concordia University System instead of a more reasonably-priced state school. Maybe I'll write that bestseller someday.

I know that's a lot to take in. Believe me when I say I know. I don't share all that to garner pity for me and mine. We're actually one of the rare CRM success stories, such as it is. We're among the fortunate ones who have returned to the parish. I know pastors who have languished for a decade or more without a sniff at a return to the parish. That's why this issue is so near and dear to my heart. There are a lot of hurting pastors out there, a lot of hurting pastors' wives and pastors' kids. Most of them receive little in the way of comfort or support from their DPs, much less any hope for a return to the parish. Some of them are dealing with physical, mental, emotional, spiritual, or financial difficulties—and some are dealing with all of those afflictions at the same time.

Our church body is talking a lot right now about "witness," "mercy," and "life together." One of the marks of the early church was the love these Christians showed for their fellows, and this was evident even to their enemies. "See how they love," one said. Their mercy in their life together was a witness to the world.

Well, these CRM men and their families could use some mercy. Some of them need a fair, impartial, and judiciously speedy hearing to settle their status on or off the roster, along with an appeal process that doesn’t involve appealing to the man who made the initial ruling.  (And yes, some men may need time on CRM to help them deal with real issues they face, but some are just the victims of bad financial circumstances, for example, or congregations who had itching ears.) Some of them need help with rent or groceries or medical bills. Some of them need a counselor to help them deal with the stress and shame they face while on CRM. Some may need some help even after returning to the parish to deal with PTSD.

This is something the LCMS needs to address, and quickly! There is a resolution being brought before the 2013 Synodical Convention to address the situation of Candidates…at the 2016 Synodical Convention, after a task force is formed to study the problem. While I’m glad that the Convention plans to take up this issue in some capacity, waiting three years to deal with the meat of this tragedy is a wait three years too long. A task force might be able to come up with ideas for, say, a fair adjudication system or a fair way to address a way to return over two-hundred Candidates to active ministry while not failing our seminary graduates, but we don’t need a task force to commit to contacting these wounded men to pray with them and ask what kind of help they need. We don’t need a task force to set up a fund to help address the financial difficulties these men and their families face. We don’t need a task force to encourage our DPs to bring to bear the love of Christ to these men instead of treating them like proverbial lepers, tax collectors and Gentiles. We don’t need a task force to commit to sending these pastors to Doxology or to ask Doxology to develop a program under their purview for the purpose of addressing the mental, emotional, and spiritual needs of these pastors and their families. Perhaps a friendly amendment to the appropriate resolution might be drafted to speak to some of these needs immediately.

While we wait for Synod in Convention to do something, Pastor Ken Kelly is spearheading an effort to help CRM men and their families. Among other things, he is trying to raise funds to address the financial needs of CRM families. He is selling t-shirts and pins with artwork that reminds us of the plight of these pastors, and any money raised beyond the cost of producing these items goes into a fund to help these families. He is not collecting any administrative costs for himself. Here is a link to the page: THE LEAST OF THESE

In addition, the Augustana Ministerium, an organization of Lutheran pastors, along with its lay counterpart, the Augustana Confraternity, has been allotting a portion of their membership fees to helping pastors and families in need. You can find their page here: THE AUGUSTANA MINISTERIUM

Finally, you can help these men and their families without spending a dime. Commit to praying for pastors who need calls and the families who support and depend on these men. Commit to praying for the congregations who need pastors. Commit to praying for faithful pastors and congregations who will love each other with Christ’s love.

These men and their families need your support and prayers. They are lying on the side of the road—bruised, bleeding, broken—and we have the means of picking them up and helping them. They, too, should receive mercy, so our life together may be a witness to the world.