06.05. Chapter 5: The Preacher And His Professional Ethics
Chapter 5 THE PREACHER AND HIS PROFESSIONAL ETHICS WITH THIS lecture we conclude our planned discussion of the preacher. The chapters that shall follow will be devoted entirely to his preaching. In connection with this subject we are sure to touch again certain phases of the minister’s life presented in the preceding lectures, but only so far as those phases affect his professional ethics. There are certain features of this theme that might have been just as properly, if not with even better taste, presented in the companion volume, Pastoral Problems, but inasmuch as they are not adequately found there, we feel justified in presenting them here.
Upon careful reflection we have decided to associate what we shall here say to the three phases of ministerial ethics: Personal Habits, Professional Conduct and Fraternal Relations. HIS PERSONAL HABITS The minister should respect his body as the temple of the Holy Ghost.
Paul contended that this was true of every believer. Writing to the Corinthians (1 Corinthians 3:16-17) he said, “Know ye not that ye are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwelleth in you? If any man defile the temple of God, him shall God destroy; for the temple of God is holy, which temple ye are.”
It is commonly admitted that the minister should be clean in body, careful not to defile it; and that such cleanliness should compass both the physical and the spiritual, and should be found true in the lesser habits of life as well as the greater.
We grew up in the South where, in our childhood days, it was not uncommon for the dominie to keep his demijohn, and the pastor to patronize his pipe. These questionable customs came about in consequence of certain local conditions. In the mountain regions, especially where an acre or two of com was often the major part of the year’s crop, that corn, converted into liquor, provided almost a year’s expense for a fair-sized family; and, in the wider clearings, tobacco raising was so much more profitable than any other employment of a few acres that the people who handled both continuously naturally patronized their own agricultural output. But the fact remained that the demijohn distempered ‘the soul and the spirit’ of the man who patronized it, and the pipe defiled his body. These were such evident results that when we entered the ministry we deliberately decided against both. We present not this argument as the sine qua non of any ministerial success, but as an illustration of our contention that the minister of all men should keep the temple of the Holy Ghost clean.
If that is accepted as a fact concerning the physical temple, surely sexual immorality, in its grosser form, is still more to be eschewed by the man who would be a chosen vessel unto the Lord. The minister’s dress, also, is a matter of some importance.
We do not contend that as an example to the flock he should become a fashion plate; but we do insist that slouchiness is non-spiritual, that neatness is next to godliness, and that to be so well clothed as neither to attract by gaudiness on the one side nor distract by untidiness on the other becomes the man who is a courier of the King.
“In civilized society,” says Johnson, “external advantages make us more respected. A man with a good coat upon his back meets with a better reception than he who has a bad one.” When we look about us in nature and see what robes of beauty and glory God has put upon the grass of the field, the flowers and forest, and how every bird is clothed with the habiliments of the most exquisite taste, we know, at least, both His interest and pleasure in outward appearance.
Remember the word of the Lord Jesus: “Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin: And yet I say unto you, That even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. Wherefore, if God so clothe the grass of the field, which to day is, and to morrow is cast into the oven, shall he not much more clothe you, O ye of little faith?” (Matthew 6:28-30).
It is significant that following this speech, Christ said: “Seek ye first the kingdom of God and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you” (Matthew 6:33).
We believe there is commonly some psychological connection between clothing and character. The minister’s deportment as a citizen should be exemplary!
Matthew Arnold said, “Conduct is three fourths of life.”
Chesterfield, who was a perfect example of his philosophy, said, “By manner only can you please, and consequently rise.”
Understand me, I am not pleading for the preacher who fits perfectly into pink teas, or becomes a mere ornament for parlor occasions; but I am purposely advocating such deportment as makes the minister an acceptable member at social gatherings, a man whose opinions are respected by his fellow citizens, and a character whose physical, mental and moral customs wise parents will advise their children to copy. HIS PROFESSIONAL CONDUCT First in the pulpit ministration!
We hold with other instructors upon this subject that promptness in pulpit arrival is a virtue. Only unexpected and uncontrollable circumstances should ever be offered as an excuse for starting a service fifteen minutes, yes, two minutes after the time appointed for its beginning. But the approach to the pulpit is almost as important as promptness in appearing. A man who saunters to the pulpit or enters it as if it were a matter of no moment as to when or how he came, does distinct discourtesy to the occasion. It is as John Watson in The Cure of Souls contends, a sacred obligation “to spare no pains that divine service be beautiful and reverent,” but it is equally obligatory to create the impression of importance.
Arrival, at his desk, of the head of the mightiest corporation should not be even so much the signal for every subordinate clerk and secretary to be in his place and attentive for the day’s tasks as should the arrival of the preacher in the pulpit be the signal that sets every temple attendant at spiritual attention.
John Watson reminded us that “the prophet is the man who rouses from ignoble sleep, fires imagination with lofty ideals and nerves the soul for costly sacrifices,” all with a view to victory.
Such a task can only be undertaken by one who is alert, resolute and whose very approach to his task impresses the people with readiness for action.
Every part of the sacred service demands one’s best. The announcement of the hymn, the reading of the morning lesson, the character of the prayer, what the English call “the intimations” (or announcements) for the day or week, the presentation of the offering—all these lead up to the matter of greatest moment: the message to come, and should be made in such manner as to quicken the interests of the most indifferent and satisfy the expectations of the most spiritual and intelligent. The preacher who thinks that only the sermon itself requires careful preparation is liable to doom what should have been the intended climax of the hour by erecting a rickety approach. The beauties of the best sermon may be obscured if the path leading to it is crooked and cluttered.
Important, also, is pastoral visitation.
Unquestionably, the time has come when there is much less made of this ministerial obligation than formerly, but that it can be neglected, without heavy losses, is not approved by either public opinion or pastoral experience.
Among the many volumes perused in this preparation we have found no description of the true pastor which seemed more true and desirable than Ian Maclaren’s presentation of the pastor’s heart. We quote it verbatim to applaud its completeness. He says: His people are ever in the pastor’s heart. He claims identity with them in their joy and sorrow and endless vicissitudes of life. No friend is blessed with any good gift of God but he is also richer. No household suffers loss but he is poorer. If one stands amid great temptation, he is stronger; if one fails, he is weaker. When any one shows conspicuous grace, the pastor thanks God as for himself; when any one refuses His call, he is dismayed, counting himself less faithful. He waits eagerly to see whether one who groped in darkness has been visited by the light from on high, whether another, who seemed to have gone into a far country, has set his face towards the Father’s house. One family he watches with anxiety, because he does not know how they will bear a heavy stroke of adversity, and another with fear lest rapid success in this world may wean their hearts from God. He trembles for this merchant lest he fall below the rule of Christ and do things which are against conscience; he rejoices over another who has stood fast and refuses to soil his hands. He inquires on every hand about some young man of whom he expects great things; he plans how another may be kept from temptation. One thing he cannot do: criticize his people or make distinctions among them. Others, with no shepherd heart, may miss the hidden goodness; he searches for it as for fine gold. Others may judge people for faults and sins; he takes them for his own. Others may make people’s foibles the subject of their raillery; the pastor cannot, because he loves.
Furthermore, in his service to society. On a previous page we have paid our respects to the pink tea preachers, but there are other than parlor ethics that enter into citizenship service, some of which prove a temptation and a snare. The lust for popularity is not confined to the laity, and the spiritual compromises that are often made in order to increase one’s social prestige are sometimes more than questionable. For instance, in Minneapolis, my beloved city, we are more than proud of our dozen to fifteen lakes within the city limits, as we are of our ten thousand bodies of limpid waters claimed for the state as a medium of publicity and a special feature of tourist vacation advertising. Minneapolis, therefore, decided years since to cash in on this commodity by what is called the annual “Aquatennial.” It is a celebration, the chief features of which are beautiful business floats, multiplied musical bands, semi-nude women, and many water sports. As a purely secular and city advertisement program, it is natural to an unregenerate world and not open to more criticism than commonly attends such mediums. But that the minister, whose sacred office should be exercised always in behalf of mental, moral, and spiritual uplift, should count himself happy in public approval, and gladly accept an invitation to sanctify the purely secular by being present at the point of largest gathering to recite a prayer for God’s blessing upon what he must know has multiplied features of divine offense, it becomes a serious question whether he is rendering a spiritual service to the public or employing his dulcet voice to induce contented sleep in sin! These are the same men who join the big secret orders and are elected to membership in the famed commercial organizations, and who are praised by the unconverted citizenry as “good fellows—men among men,” etc.
However, when you visit their churches, you will find them non-spiritual; and when you take an inquiring soul to their “divine service,” you need hardly expect that the way of salvation will be presented or any opportunity of surrender to the Lordship of Christ will be offered. To them ecclesiasticism is only another phase of social opportunity, and John Watson’s book title, The Cure of Souls, is a meaningless selection. HIS FRATERNAL RELATIONS First, with his fellow citizens.
It goes without saying that the preacher is to have friends. In fact, no profession should surpass, if it equals, that of the ministry in making a multitude of them. Intelligent observations convince those who make them that the ministry is an appreciated profession. Lawyers, doctors, scientists, men of business affairs—these all give the preacher special temptations. Popularity is not, in itself, a protection. It may, however, prove a temptation instead. In comparatively recent years we have known two somewhat widely-famed ministers, pastors of large flocks, who discovered in the circle of their friends a man of whom each made a chum. Social companions are essential to the success of the sacred office. Intimate chums often become a peril instead. In one of these instances the chum led the minister into secret drinking, lust indulgences, and final disgrace. He died suddenly, a sadly discredited representative of the most sacred of offices. In the other instance, people who were best informed on the intimate affairs of the pastor’s life believed that the preacher killed his chum in order to seal forever his lips against report of the preacher’s past conduct.
Second, with his church members.
Even when the fellowship is wholesome and confined to brother Christians, the preacher’s friendships should be rather extensive than too intensive. The sacred calling creates friends. It does not call for an over-ardent intimacy. In fact, while every pastor will at least discover in his official board certain sane counsellors with whom he will have real occasion for repeated conferences, it is not, however, best, in these instances, to have the public suspect his prejudiced preferences. This applies to his church members.
Almost without exception the church roster holds the names of certain people, and even small social circles, which will have a sort of affinity for the preacher, and for whose companionship he finds in himself a ready response. But to yield to it and be repeatedly found in a certain companionship is to create the feeling of neglect on the part of the greater company. As the father of a family should strive to make his children feel that each is equally dear to the paternal heart, so the pastor of a church should practice a kindly fellowship for all. This is not to say that he can escape such special and preferred companions, but it is to plead that he shall not parade them. We cannot agree with Kagawa that “Love knows no creeds,” but we do advise that pastoral affection shall not over-estimate preferred companionships.
Finally, with his fellow-ministers.
Here we touch upon a point of supreme importance. The minister has often been charged, and with some degree of justification, with jealousy. It is not uncommon to hear preachers pick to pieces their equals and even attack their superiors. This is one of the ministerial weaknesses that has been long and publicly deplored. The temptation to this SIN (and such it is), also occurs when a retiring pastor remains resident and is, to the congregation, satisfactorily succeeded. In fact, so often has this incident occurred that both preachers and churches have come to feel that it is better for the ex-pastor not to remain in his former church fellowship.
Unquestionably, this, like every other question, has two sides to it. In our own personal experience, through the long period of more than sixty years, we never had resident in our church membership an ex-pastor who was not our intimate friend and hearty helper. One naturally questions, therefore, whether the trouble is with the ex-pastor or with the occupant. Confidential study would doubtless prove it was sometimes the one and quite as often the other. At this point we have from politicians an example that preachers would do well to copy. We are told that when Mr. Jefferson was sent as ambassador to France, the French Minister, Count de Vergennes, remarked to Mr. Jefferson, “You come, as I understand it, Sir, to replace Dr. Franklin.” To that remark Jefferson graciously responded, “Nor Sir! I am here to succeed him. No man can replace him.” A deal of felicity on the part of preachers would prove as acceptable to the public as this answer of Jefferson was esteemed by the most polite court in Europe. But there is a still further point concerning which we shall say a word on the preacher’s ethics. Here we deal entirely with the pastoral incumbent. It concerns his attitude toward ex-pastors and also neighboring pastors, and involves the question of their kindly call or visitation in a church home. In the long pastorate in Minneapolis we have known of two or three instances where a call made, whether by request or with absolute justification, by an ex-pastor in some instances, and by a neighboring pastor in others, has been bitterly resented by the preacher in charge. He has argued that the parish in which he serves belongs to him and to him only, and that the entrance of any other preacher over the threshold of his homes is justly indictable. To say that such a spirit assumes the intolerance of Rome herself is to put it mildly. To be sure, we do not advocate or even look with complacency upon visits made with the view of sheep-stealing, or With any view whatever to secure a change of membership from one parish to another, or to win or hold the affection of former parishioners against the love and loyalty due to the new pulpit occupant. Too repeated returns for visits and conferences on the abandoned field raises a question as to whether the ex-pastor is not trying to serve and hold two congregations. That motive would ill become any courier for Christ. But to object to having a member call a loved ministerial friend, from within or without the fellowship of the church, to pray with the sick, to comfort in the hour of sorrow, to participate in a funeral service, or to perform the wedding of a son or daughter that perhaps had been baptized in a former day by him—resentment at such procedure would indicate that in the pastor’s mind these members are no longer free men and women permitted, therefore, to exercise personal judgment and preference, but are his vassals and can neither serve nor be served by other than himself. To such preachers we conclude this lecture by advising them to read afresh and prayerfully 1 Corinthians 13:1-13, the chapter which in my Thompson chain-reference Bible is headed, “All gifts, however excellent, are nothing without charity.”
BIBLIOGRAPHY Farmer, H. H. The Servant of the Word (New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1942).
Cairns, Frank. The Prophet in the Heart (New York: Harper & Bros., 1935).