The Orthodox Art/Ministry of Icons

Stylized religious paintings, such as this one of Christ, are still a significant part of the Eastern Orthodox faith that Prince Vladimir adopted as his kingdom’s official religion c. 988. They are numerous in modern Orthodox Churches. But to the Orthodox they are far more than mere paintings.

In their eyes, icons are a ministry, to the heart as much as to the eyes. They not only see them as works of beauty, and thus carefully preserve and venerate them; they also see the beauty of the icons as turning the believer’s thoughts to the beauty of God. Additionally, they view them as teaching tools and reminders, providing believers with visual aids to help them learn and remember biblical and church history events, as well as the characters and their virtues.

Iconography is definitely not a free-form genre that allows the artists to paint their subjects any way they will. Rather, icons are produced according to strict, widely held standards, by artists who must train for years, learning meticulously the established parameters of what icons can look like. And the painting must be preceded by times of fasting and prayer in preparation for this spiritual work. For more on icons, see the article in this issue, “What is Orthodoxy Anyway?”

History

The Primary Source of the Millennium Legends/Historical Events

Nestor The Monk and The Editors

Read for yourself the chief accounts upon which the millennium celebration is based; while these much-loved chronicles admittedly contain a good bit of legend, they are still the best history we have.

These excerpts from what is known by the Eastern Slavs as the Primary Chronicle, written nearly 900 years ago, contain in dramatic prose the chief accounts upon which the millennial celebrations are based: that of the Apostle Andrew visiting Ukraine; that of Olga’s baptism; and that of the great baptism of Kiev.

It is being called, variously (depending upon one’s biases), “The Millennium of Christianity in Ukraine,” “The Millennium of Christianity in Russia,” “The Millennium of Christianity in the USSR,” “The Millennium of the Russian Orthodox Church,” “The Millennium of the Ukrainian Orthodox Church,” and several others.

Yet regardless of their widely varying biases, all the groups participating in the thousands of celebration activities are united in referring to one document as a source for what events are being commemorated: The Primary Chronicle (Laurentian Text), or Tales of the Bygone Years—a compilation that probably first appeared at its current length in 1116, under the name of one Sylvester, but which is widely accepted as being primarily written by a Ukrainian Orthodox monk named Nestor, and added to later by Sylvester and others.

In its nearly 200 pages, this extensive compendium includes stories of the Eastern Slavs history dating from the days of Noah right up until the 12th century, dealing broadly with all the history of Kievan Rus’ but, being authored by a monk, focusing especially on the Eastern Slavs’ “salvation history.”

Regarding the millennium, the celebrants refer most frequently to three of the Chronicle’s accounts: that of the Apostle Andrew visiting the future site of Kiev and other portions of the modern USSR; that of the baptism of Princess Olga, a queen of Kievan Rus’ and the grandmother of Grand Prince Vladimir; and that of Vladimir ordaining Christianity as the official religion of his realm and ordering all the citizens to be baptized. In excerpts taken from the 1953 translation called The Russian Primary Chronicle, edited and translated by Samuel Hazzard Cross and Olgerd P. Sherbowitz-Wetzor (Medieval Academy of America: Cambridge, Mass.), these accounts are presented below, interspersed with editor’s notes of explanation and commentary.

But first, a note about accuracy: While historians from a broad range of perspectives question the accuracy of the details in these accounts, even the most-skeptical historians seem to agree that the Chronicle is generally accurate in its accounts of the general happenings. In the case of the latter two accounts, their general accuracy has been much corroborated by other reliable sources. As for the first account, a persuasive case can be made (see The Soviet Union Celebrates 1000 Years of Christianity) that it probably contains at least a germ of accuracy, though the evidence for it is clearly speculative.

However, it is not speculative that, for at least 800 years, the Chronicle has been a much-loved collection of “the peoples’ stories,” a legacy of history and legend that has been passed proudly down from one generation of Eastern Slavs to the next, even to this very day.

Andrew the Apostle Visits Rus’-Ukraine, C. 50–60

Dating from at least the 4th century, the tradition has been strong and pervasive among Eastern Slavic believers that Andrew the Apostle of Christ, during his mission journeys to the Greek colonies on the Black Sea, visited the territories that were later to become Ukraine and Russia—and possibly left some new converts to Christianity behind. Whether historically verifiable or not, here is definitely one of the “primary” sources of the millennial celebration.

The Dnieper [River] flows through various mouths into the Pontus Sea, which is called the Russian [today the Black] Sea, and it was this sea beside which taught St. Andrew, Peter’s brother.

When Andrew was teaching in Sinope and came to Kherson [an ancient city on the north side of the Black Sea opposite Constantinople], he observed that the mouth of the Dnieper was nearby. Conceiving a desire to go to Rome, he thus journeyed to the mouth of the Dnieper.

Thence he ascended the river, and by chance he halted beneath the hills upon the shore. Upon arising in the morning, he observed to the disciples who were with him, “See ye these hills? So shall the favor of God shine upon them that on this spot a great city shall arise, and God shall erect many churches therein.” He drew near the hills, and having blessed them, he set up a cross. After offering his prayer to God, he descended from the hill on which Kiev was subsequently built, and continued his journey up the Dnieper.

He then reached the Slavs at the point where Novgorod [an ancient city to the northeast of Kiev] is now situated. He saw these people existing according to their customs, and on observing how they bathed and scrubbed themselves, he wondered at them. He went thence among the Varangians [the leading Slavic tribe in the region] and came to Rome, where he recounted what he had learned and observed. “Wondrous to relate,” said he, “I saw the land of the Slavs, and while I was among them, I noticed their wooden bathhouses [or spas or saunas]. They warm them to extreme heat, then undress, and after anointing themselves with an acid liquid, they take young branches and lash their bodies.”

“They actually lash themselves so violently that they barely escape alive. Then they drench themselves with cold water, and thus are revived. They think nothing of doing this every day, and though tormented by none, they actually inflict such voluntary torture upon themselves. In fact, they make of the act not a mere washing but a veritable torment.” When his hearers learned of this, they marveled. But Andrew, after his stay in Rome, returned to Sinope.

This latter story, about Andrew’s observation of the Novgorodians, is the most highly questioned part of the narrative. Scholars suggest it was added into the Chronicle sometime after Nestor, probably by a Kievan who, inheriting the legacy of an an age-old rivalry between the cities of Kiev and Novgorod, wanted to confirm that the Novgorodians were foolish as far back as the 1st century.

The Baptism of Olga, C. 955

Princess Olga (or Ol’ha) is the first woman to have been recorded in Ukrainian history as having openly become a Christian—though it’s very unlikely she was the first Ukrainian Christian woman. But because she was a princess, she was the first Ukrainian woman to have been recorded as a Christian.

She was the wife of Prince Ihor (r. 913–945), a Norseman who was one of the first great princes of the Kievan-Rus’ empire. Also, she was the grandmother of Prince Vladimir who ordained the national baptism.

The Chronicle asserts that she was clever and regal even before becoming a Christian, but that she initially used her cleverness and regal bearing to exact cruel and unexpected vengeance upon her enemies. When she first learned about Christianity is unknown; it is almost certain there were several believers in her husband’s retinue, and she could have learned of it from them. Yet obviously, she did not make her profession of faith known until her husband was several years dead.

How public she actually was about changing from her subjects’ pagan faith to the “new” Christian faith is open to much question; however, according to the Chronicle, she made up her mind quickly and proclaimed it openly, without regard of the consequences to her reputation with her people. This is the Chronicle’s romantic account:

Olga went to Greece, and arrived at Tsar’grad [Constantinople]. The reigning emperor was named Constantine [VII], son of Leo. Olga came before him, and when he saw that she was very fair of countenance and wise as well, the emperor wondered at her intellect.

He conversed with her and remarked that she was worthy to reign with him in his city. When Olga heard his words, she replied that she was still a pagan, and that if he desired to baptize her, he should perform this function himself; otherwise, she was unwilling to accept baptism. The emperor, with the assistance of the patriarch, accordingly baptized her.

When Olga was enlightened, she rejoiced in soul and body. The patriarch, who instructed her in the faith, said to her, “Blessed art thou among the women of Rus’, for thou hast loved the light, and quit the darkness. The sons of Rus’ shall bless thee to the last generation of thy descendants.” He taught her the doctrine of the Church, and instructed her in prayer and fasting, in almsgiving, and in the maintenance of chastity. She bowed her head, and like a sponge absorbing water, she eagerly drank in his teachings. The princess bowed before the patriarch, saying, “Through thy prayers holy father, may I be preserved from the crafts and assaults of the devil!” At he, baptism she was christened Helena, after the ancient empress, mother of Constantine the Great. The patriarch then blessed her and dismissed her.

After her baptism, the emperor summoned Olga and made known to her that he wished her to become his wife. But she replied, “How can you marry me, after yourself baptizing me and calling me your daughter? For among Christians that is unlawful, as you yourself must know.” Then the emperor said, “Olga, you have outwitted me.” He gave her many gifts of gold, silver, silks, and various vases, and dismissed her, still calling her his daughter.

Since Olga was anxious to return home, she went to the patriarch to request his benediction for the homeward journey, and said to him, “My people and my son are heathen. May God protect me from all evil!” … So the patriarch blessed her, and she returned in peace to own country, and arrived in Kiev …

…. and the Greek emperor sent a message to her saying, “Inasmuch as I bestowed many gifts upon you, you promised me that on your return to Rus’ you would send me many presents of slaves, wax, and furs, and dispatch soldiery to aid me.” Olga made answer to the envoys that if the emperor would spend as long a time with her in the Pochayna [region] as she had remained on the Bosporus [Sea], she would grant his request. With these words, she dismissed the envoys.

Now Olga dwelt with her son [the boy-king] Sviatoslav [she was regent to him until he was of age]. And she urged him to be baptized, but he would not listen to her suggestion—though when any man wished to be baptized, he was not hindered, but only mocked ….

The Chronicle goes on to discourse on the blindness of those like Sviatoslav who do not believe, and on Olga’s continuing witness to her son. The Chronicle then recounts several of Sviatoslav’s battle campaigns. Finally, Sviatoslav announces that he is going to move his throne to the Danube region, but the ailing Olga convinces him to stay in Kier until she is dead. Only three days later, according to the Chronicle, she breathes her last. After the beloved lady’s death, . . .

Her son wept for her with great mourning, as did likewise her grandsons and all the people ….

Olga was the precursor of the Christian land, even as the day-spring precedes the sun as the dawn precedes the day. For she shone like the moon by night, and she was radiant among the infidels like a pearl in the mire, since the people were soiled, and not yet purified of their sin by holy baptism … [The Chronicle asserts that] she was the first from Rus’ to enter the kingdom of God, and the sons of Rus’ thus praise her as their leader, for since her death she has interceded with God in their behalf.

Vladimir’s Acceptance of Christianity and the Baptism of Kievan Rus’, C. 988

Despite the Chronicle’s assertion that Olga was “the first from Rus’ to enter the kingdom of God,” there is no question that Christianity was introduced into Kievan Rus’ long before Olga, and certainly before Prince Vladimir. For example, the Chronicle, contradicting itself, says a Christian church existed in Kiev during the reign of Olga’s husband, Ihor. And other records convince us there were many merchants in the area, as well as knights and soldiers, who were either converts to or had an acquaintance with the new faith.

In its rambling narrative, the Chronicle reports several legends concerning the adoption of Christianity as the state religion, as well as several traditional accounts of the baptism of Prince Vladimir. A great irony about the millennium is that no one knows exactly where or when Vladimir was baptized (though it was most likely in 988 or 989, with the baptism of Kiev coming at least one year later—thus making it impossible to have the celebrated baptism of Kiev in 988).

And regardless of the fact that the Chronicle makes the widespread acceptance of imposed Christianity sound simple, it is certain that while some citizens of Kievan Rus’ accepted it peacefully, others resisted and “had to be convinced” by force. This knowledge is tempered by the fact that Vladimir’s acceptance of Christianity was not merely a spiritual move; with his kingdom in such close proximity to the Christian Byzantine Empire, it was also a very political move. Nonetheless, it gave Christianity the prince’s endorsement, and afforded the church with greater resources to carry out her mission. The account begins with representatives from various religions coming to visit the up and-comingPrince Vladimir:

c. 986—Vladimir was visited by Bulgars [from the region of Bulgaria] of Mohammedan faith, who said, “Though you are a wise and prudent prince, you have no religion. Adopt our faith, and revere Mohammed.” Vladimir inquired what was the nature of their religion.

They replied that they believed in God, and that Mohammed instructed them to practice circumcision, to eat no pork, to drink no wine, and after death, promised them complete fulfillment of their carnal desires. “Mohammed,” they asserted, “will give each man 70 fair women. He may choose one fair one, and upon that woman will Mohammed confer the charms of them all, and she shall be his wife. Mohammed promises that one may then satisfy every desire, but whoever is poor in this world will be no different in the next.” They also spoke other false things (which out of modesty may not be written down).

Vladimir listened [intently] to them, for he was fond of women and indulgence, regarding which he heard with pleasure. But circumcision and abstinence from pork and wine were disagreeable to him. “Drinking,” said he, “is the joy of the Russes. We cannot exist without that pleasure.”

Then came the Germans [of the Latin Church], asserting that they were come as emissaries of the pope. They added, “Thus says the pope: ‘Your country is like our country, but your faith is not as ours. For our faith is the light. We worship God, who has made heaven and earth, the stars, the moon, and every creature, while your gods are only wood.’ ”

Vladimir inquired what their teaching was. They replied, “Fasting according to one’s strength. But whatever one eats or drinks is all to the glory of God, as our teacher Paul has said.” Then Vladimir answered, “Depart hence; our fathers accepted no such principle.”

The Jewish Khazars [members of the Khazar tribe were numerous in that region] heard of these missions, and came themselves saying, “We have learned that Bulgars and Christians came hither to instruct you in their faiths. The Christians believe in him whom we crucified, but we believe in the one God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.”

Then Vladimir inquired what their religion was. They replied that its tenets included circumcision, not eating pork or hare, and observing the Sabbath. The prince asked where their native land was, and they replied “in Jerusalem.”

When Vladimir inquired where that was, they made answer, “God was angry at our forefathers, and scattered us among the Gentiles on account of our sins. Our land was then given to the Christians.” The prince then demanded, “How can you hope to teach others while you yourselves are cast out and scattered abroad by the hand of God? If God loved you and your faith, you would not be thus dispersed …. Do you expect us to accept that fate also?”

Then the Greeks [as in Greek Orthodox] sent to Vladimir a scholar, who spoke thus: “We have heard that the Bulgarians came and urged you to adopt their faith, which pollutes heaven and earth. They are accursed above all men, like Sodom and Gomorrah, upon which the Lord let fall burning stones, and which he buried and submerged. The day of destruction likewise awaits these men, on which the Lord will come to judge the earth, and to destroy all those who do evil and abomination.”

“For they moisten their excrement, and pour the water into their mouths, and anoint their beards with it, remembering Mohammed. The women also perform this same abomination, and even worse ones.” Vladimir, upon hearing hearing their statements, spat upon the earth, saying, “This is a vile thing.”

Then the scholar said, “We have likewise heard how men came from Rome to convert you to their faith. It differs but little from ours, for they commune with wafers, called oplacki, which God did not give them, for he ordained that we should commune with bread. For when he had taken bread, the Lord gave it to his disciples, saying, ‘This is my body broken for you.’ Likewise he took the cup, and said, ‘This is my blood of the New Testament.’ They do not so act, for they have modified the faith.”

Then Vladimir remarked that the Jews had come into his presence and had stated that the Germans and the Greeks believed in him whom they crucified. To this the scholar replied, “Of a truth we believe in him. For some of the prophets foretold that God should be incarnated, and others that he should be crucified and buried, but arise on the third day and ascend into heaven. For the Jews killed the prophets, and stills others they persecuted. When their prophecy was fulfilled, our Lord came down to earth, was crucified, arose again, and ascended into heaven ….”

Vladimir then inquired why God should have descended to earth and should have endured such pain. The scholar then answered and said, “If you are desirous of hearing the story, I shall tell you from the beginning why God descended to earth.” Vladimir replied, “Gladly would I hear it.” Whereupon the the scholar thus began his narrative: “In the beginning, God created heaven and earth on the first day …”

Continuing in a blow-by-blow description laced with Scripture references and interesting extra-biblical interpolations, this narrative goes for another 12 pages, moving through the Creation, the Fall, the Flood, the calling of Abraham and Israel, the Egyptian captivity, the Exodus, the taking of the land of Canaan, the Davidic dynasty, the apostasy of Israel, the sending of the prophets with their messianic predictions, the life, death, resurrection and ascension of Christ, the coming of the Holy Spirit, and the spreading of the gospel throughout the world. The scholar concludes thus:

“Now that the apostles have taught men throughout the world to believe in God, we Greeks have inherited their teaching, and the world believes therein. God hath appointed a day, in which he shall come from heaven to judge both the quick and the dead, and to render to each according to his deeds; to the righteous, the kingdom of heaven and ineffable beauty, bliss without end, and eternal life; but to sinners, the torments of hell and a worm that sleeps not, and of their torments there shall be no end ….”

As he spoke thus, he exhibited to Vladimir a canvas on which was depicted the Judgment Day of the Lord, and showed him, on the right, the righteous going to their bliss in Paradise, and on the left, the sinners on their way to torment.

Then Vladimir sighed and said, “Happy are they upon the right, but woe to those upon the left!” The scholar replied, “If you desire to take your place on the right with the just, then accept baptism!” Vladimir took this counsel to heart, saying, “I shall wait yet a little longer,” for he wished to inquire about all the faiths. Vladimir then gave the scholar many gifts, and dismissed him with honor.

c. 987 Vladimir summoned together his boyars and the city elders, and said to them: “Behold, the Bulgars came before me urging me to accept their religion. Then came the Germans and praised their own faith; and after them came the Jews.”

Finally the Greeks appeared, criticizing all other faiths but commending their own, and they spoke at length, telling the history of the whole world from its beginning. Their words were artful, and it was wondrous to listen and pleasant to hear them. They preach the existence of another world. “Whoever adopts our religion and then dies,” they said, “shall arise and live forever. But whosoever embraces another faith, shall be consumed with fire in the next world.’ What is your opinion on this subject, and what do your answer?” The boyars and the elders replied, “You know, oh prince, that no man condemns his own possessions, but praises them instead. If you desire to make certain, you have servants at your disposal. Send them to inquire about the ritual of each and how he worships God.”

Their counsel pleased the prince and all the people, so that they chose good and wise men to the number of 10, and directed them to go first among the Bulgars and inspect their faith. The emissaries went their way, and when they arrived at their destination they beheld the disgraceful actions of the Bulgars and their worship in the mosque; then they returned to their country.

Vladimir then instructed them to go likewise among the Germans, and examine their faith, and finally to visit the Greeks. They thus went into Germany, and after viewing the German ceremonial, they proceeded to Tsar’grad, where they appeared before the [Byzantine] emperor. He inquired on what mission they had come, and they reported to him all that had occurred. When the emperor heard their words, he rejoiced, and did them great honor on that very day.

On the morrow, the emperor sent a message to the patriarch to inform him that a “Russian” delegation had arrived to examine their Greek faith, and directed him to prepare the church and the clergy, and to array himself in his sacerdotal robes, so that the Russes might behold the glory of the God of the Greeks. When the patriarch received these commands, he bade the clergy assemble, and they performed the customary rites.

They burned incense, and the choirs sang hymns. The emperor accompanied the Russes to the church, and placed them in a wide space, calling their attention to the beauty of the edifice, the chanting, and the pontifical services, and the ministry of the deacons, while he explained to them the worship of his God. The Russes were astonished, and in their wonder praised the Greek ceremonial. Then the Emperors Basil and Constantine invited the envoys to their presence, and said, “Go hence to your native country,” and dismissed them with valuable presents and great honor.

Thus they returned to their own country, and the prince called together his boyars and the elders. Vladimir then announced the return of the envoys who had been sent out, and suggested that their report be heard. He thus commanded them to speak out before his retinue.

The royal saints of Rus’: St. Vladimir and St. Olga, his mother, from the Russian Catechism book, written by Ukrainian Stefan Yavorsky in 1723.

The envoys reported, “When we journeyed among the Bulgars, we beheld how they worship in their temple, called a mosque, while they stand ungirt. The Bulgar bows, sits down, looks hither and thither like one possessed, and there is no happiness among them … Their religion is not good.”

“Then we went among the Germans, and saw them performing many ceremonies in their temples; but we beheld no glory there.”

“Then we went to Greece, and the Greeks led us to the edifices where they worship their God, and we know not whether we were in heaven or on earth. For on earth there is no such splendor or such beauty, and we are at a loss how to describe it. We only know that God dwells there among men, and their service is fairer than the ceremonies of other nations. For we cannot forget that beauty. Every man, after tasting something sweet, is afterward unwilling to accept that which is bitter, and therefore we cannot dwell longer here.”

Then the boyars spoke and said, “If the Greek faith were evil, it would not have been adopted by your grandmother Olga who was wiser than all other men.” Vladimir then inquired where they should all accept baptism, and they replied that the decision rested with him.

At this point Vladimir’s religious searchings apparently went on hiatus for a year so he could carry out a siege of the Byzantine city of Kherson. When he received a mysterious message that told him how to cut off the city defenders’ water supply, Vladimir told God that, should he end up taking the city, he would be baptized in gratitude for God’s help. Upon entering the city, he began negotiating with Byzantine Emperors Basil and Constantine for the hand of their sister Anna, thereby intending to cement his possession of the city and a peaceful co-existence with the Byzantine empire. But the two emperors delayed, insisting that he could have their sister only if he were baptized. He insisted that she bring priests with her to baptize him, and they agreed. She went to Kherson, where the narrative picks up:

c. 988—By divine agency, Vladimir was suffering at that moment from a disease of the eyes, and could see nothing, being in great distress. The princess declared to him that if he desired to be healed of this disease, he should be baptized with all speed, otherwise it could not be cured.

When Vladimir heard her message he said, “If this proves true, then of a surety is the God of the Christians great,” and gave order that he should be baptized. The Bishop of Kherson, together with the princess’s priests, after announcing the tidings, baptized Vladimir, and as the bishop laid his hand upon the him, he straightway received his sight. Upon experiencing this miraculous cure, Vladimir glorified God saying, “I have now perceived the one true God.” When his followers beheld this miracle, many of them were also baptized.

The Chronicle alleges that this took place in Kherson, but that “those who do not know the truth say he was baptized in Kiev,” or “in Vasil’ev, while still others mention other places.” When the prince returned to Kiev, according to the Chronicle:

… he directed that the idols be overthrown, and that some should be cut to pieces and others burned with fire. He thus ordered that Perun [the chief idol of the Kievan pagans’ pantheon] should be bound to a horse’s tail and dragged down Borichev [Street] to the stream. He appointed 12 men to beat the idol with sticks, not because he thought the wood was sensitive, but to affront the demon who had deceived man in this guise, that he might receive chastisement at the hands of men. Great art thou, oh Lord, and marvelous are thy works! Yesterday he was honored of men, but today held in derision. While the idol was being dragged along the stream to the Dnieper, the unbelievers wept over it, for they had not yet received holy baptism. After they had thus dragged the idol along, they cast it into the Dnieper. But Vladimir had given this injunction, “If it halts anywhere, then push it out from the bank, until it goes over the falls. Then let it loose.” His command was duly obeyed. When the men let the idol go, and it passed through the rapids, the wind cast it out on the bank, which since that time has been called Perun’s sandbank, a name that it bears to this very day [whenever the chronicler was writing].

Thereafter Vladimir sent heralds throughout the whole city to proclaim that if any inhabitants, rich or poor, did not betake himself to the river, he would risk the prince’s displeasure. When the people heard these words, they wept for joy, and exclaimed in their enthusiasm, “If this were not good, the prince and his boyars would not have accepted it.” On the morrow, the prince went forth to the Dnieper with the priests of the princess and those from Kherson, and a countless multitude assembled. They all went into the water; some stood up to their necks, others to their breasts, and the younger near the bank, some of them holding children in their arms, while the adults waded farther out. The priests stood by and offered prayers. There was joy in heaven and upon earth to behold so many souls saved. But the devil lamented, “Woe is me! How am I driven out hence! … I am vanquished … and my reign in these regions is at an end.”

The Chronicle’s next several pages contain accounts of the people almost unanimously accepting this new Christian faith, and of Vladimir’s oversight of the Christianization of his entire nation, including his initiating the education of the nation’s children and in other ways encouraging the spread of the gospel of Christ throughout his realm.

- More from Nestor The Monk and The Editors

History

What the Soviet Constitution Says About Freedom and Religion

The Constitution of the Soviet Union promises its citizens freedom of conscience and religion, as is obvious in this statement from Article 52 of the Soviet Constitution:

“Citizens of the USSR are guaranteed freedom of conscience, that is, the right to profess or not to profess any religion, and to conduct religious worship or atheistic propaganda.”

Of course it does not mention here that the government will foment the production of atheistic propaganda, while harassing those who prefer to conduct religious worship. That would be removing the mask of governmental objectivity that the Soviet government would so like to retain. But the hidden falsehood of such a guarantee of freedom soon becomes clear as one examines other articles of the Soviet Constitution, which show how the Soviet political system was so open to religion-repressing laws like those of Josef Stalin.

From Article 6: “The leading and guiding force of Soviet society and the nucleus of its political system, of all state organizations and public organizations, is the Communist Party of the Soviet Union …. The Communist Party … determines … the course of the domestic and foreign policy of the USSR, directs the great constructive work of the Soviet people, and imparts a planned, systematic and theoretically substantiated character to their struggle for the victory of communism.”

From Article 3: “The Soviet state is organized and functions on the principle of democratic centralism …. Democratic centralism combines central leadership with local initiative and creative activity….”

From Article 39: “Enjoyment by citizens of their rights and freedoms must not be to the detriment of the interest of society or the state.”

From Article 59: “Citizens’ exercise of their rights and freedoms is inseparable from the performance of their duties and obligations.”

“Citizens of the USSR are obliged to observe the Constitution of the USSR and the Soviet laws, comply with the standards of socialist conduct, and uphold the honor and dignity of Soviet citizenship.”

Finally, from Article 50, a statement that echoes the U.S. Constitution—except for a few crucial additions: “In accordance with the interests of the people and in order to strengthen and develop the socialist system, citizens of the USSR are guaranteed freedom of speech, of the press, and of assembly, meetings, street processions and of demonstralinn ” [all italics added—Eds.]

History

The History of Russian Christianity: From the Publisher

Welcome to our issue commemorating the “Christianization of Rus’.” This is a grand historic occasion, and we open the issue with a grand painting of the event that is being celebrated: Prince Vladimir’s overseeing the mass baptism, c. 988, of the people from Kiev, the capital city of Vladimir’s kingdom of Rus’. This is the painting’s story.

Commissioned by the Ukrainian Catholic Synod of Bishops, the original of this painting measures 12 feet long and 6 feet high and hangs in the headquarters of the Ukrainian Catholic Church’s Philadelphia Archdiocese.

In the center of the painting stands the cross of the Lord draped with a white cloth. To the left of the cross is the main focus of the painting, Grand Prince Vladimir (or Volodymyr), ruler of the regions that are today known as Ukraine. To his right stands his new wife, Princess Anna, the sister of the Byzantine co-emperors Basil II and Constantine, and to the royal couple’s left appear their several sons and the sons’ teacher.

Vladimir’s right hand is on the shoulder of his son, Yaroslav, who, when he ascended the throne, continued fostering the Christian faith in Rus’ and came to be known as Yaroslav “the Wise.” In his hands he holds a parchment scroll containing Jesus’ words from Matt. 28:19: “Go, therefore, and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit … ” The scroll was intended to symbolize Vladimir’s handing the new faith over to the succeeding generations of Kievan rulers.

To the right of the princess stands a group of country maidens, with knights and other residents filling in the rest of the scene. The diversity of costumes are an accurate portrayal of the styles of clothing worn by the Kievan peoples in that day.

Immediately in front of the cross are the bishop and clergy involved in carrying out the baptism, while in the far left of the painting appears the drama of the overthrow of the pagan idol, Perun. Infantry and cavalrymen stand by to maintain order.

In the background is the city of Kiev, with a large group of people coming out to be baptized. In the clouds over the city there appears St. Andrew the Apostle, patron saint of Ukraine. The rainbow signifies an end of the kingdom’s turbulent years.

The ornate cross in Vladimir’s left hand represents not only the Christian faith, but the spiritual richness of that faith which shaped the culture of the Ukrainian and Russian nations for centuries to come. In the foreground appears a group of people receiving baptism. The shield held by the young boy standing in front of the prince bears the symbol of the trident, the royal coat-of-arms that was later adopted as a symbol of the Kievan state. This version of the trident was taken by the painter from coins minted during Vladimir’s reign. Incidentally, the man in the water immediately below the shield is actually a self-portrait of the painter, the late Peter Andrusiw.

There is much we need to learn about Christianity “behind the Iron Curtain.” We hope this issue helps you glean its riches.

History

The Rich Heritage of Eastern Slavic Spirituality

Louis Bouyer and The Editors

Though practically unknown to most Westerners, the history of Orthodox spirituality among the Eastern Slavs of Ukraine and Russia is a deep treasure chest of spiritual exploration and discovery.

In only 460 years (990–1450), less than half the millennium period being celebrated this year, at least several thousand of the Eastern Slavs—and this is based solely on the number taking monastic vows—were exercising themselves in spiritual devotions and service. Here are the stories of only a few of the leading lights.

The spirituality of the Orthodox believers in Eastern Slavic territories, like the spirituality of the entire Orthodox faith itself, is largely unknown to most Western, Protestant readers. But there is much in the history of such spirituality, as the several tales below will demonstrate, that can inspire, stimulate and encourage us.

These biographies are excerpted and condensed from Fr. Louis Bouyer’s book, Orthodox Spirituality and Protestant and Anglican Spirituality, No. III in the series, A History of Christian Spirituality, by Bouyer, Jean Leclercq, Francois Vandenbroucke, and Louis Cognet. Originally published in 1969 by The Seabury Press, the series is now published by Harper &Row Publishing, Inc., and these excerpts are used here by permission of Harper &Row.

Comparing the Primary Chronicle’s accounts of the conversions of Vladimir and Olga with those of characters in other ancient Christian writings, it is worthy of note that the Chroniclers make no attempt to gloss over the previous sinful conduct of the two heroes—as was the case, for example, in Eusebius’s account of the conversion of Constantine. In fact, the Slavic Chroniclers openly discusses Olga’s brutality and Vladimir’s dissolute life, portraying two people who, in Christianizing the realm of the Kievan Rus’, were not prefabricated saints but needed conversion just as much as their people.

This is but another evidence that from the first, “Russian” Christianity was prominently a religion of penitents, penitents who found no difficulty in confessing their grossest sins. This was to mark it with an evangelical character of striking consistency. Of course some distortions arose, distortions so overly penitent that one astute said Russians were incapable of sinning with simplicity.

Yet it is easy to see that even behind the distortions lay a candor and humility that moved many spiritually minded Russian people to own Christ’s phrase, “I have come to call not the righteous, but sinners”—a claim that our over-civilized Christianity may find some difficulty in digesting.

Growing out of this penitent spirit is a rich history of spirituality, of Orthodox Slavic believers reaching for the divine with all their hearts, souls, minds and strengths. Here are some of their stories.

The Praying, Retiring Ascetic

In Russian lands, as in the ancient East, spirituality early on came to center mainly on monasticism. Monasticism was already in existence in those regions well before the baptism of Kiev, but the royal family’s Christianization certainly lent it a significant boost, as the house of Vladimir abundantly extended its interest and generosity to the Petcherskaia Lavra, or the Monastery of the Caves, whose facility still stands on a much-hallowed plot of ground just outside Kiev. The monastery’s founder, St. Antony, apparently began his monastic life in Greece. But the records of his teaching and practices seem to suggest he was more strongly influenced by Syrian monasticism, especially seen in his insistence on penitential asceticism of a kind we are tempted to regard as inhuman.

Born in Lyubech, just north of Kiev, he was unable to settle down in any of the existing monasteries on his return from Greece. After wandering from one to another, he finally established himself in a cave in the side of the hill overlooking the city or Kiev. There, he lived in total solitude on bread and water, digging out his cave with his own hands, watching and praying. Disciples from all sections of society soon gathered ’round him, and proceeded to enlarge the caves and build a church building. He welcomed them, but when there were too many he with drew further up the hill and finished his life in total seclusion. When he died in 1073 (?), the monastery was under the direction of one of his followers, Theodosius, who was actually canonized as a saint before the retiring Antony was.

The Humble Prince-Challenger

In the city of Vasilkov, on an unknown date, Theodosius was born to a well-to-do family that moved shortly afterwards to Kursk, north and west of Kiev. His father died when he was about 13, and he was henceforth under the thumb of a mother who is portrayed by Theodosius’s biographer as a veritable virago, whose one passion was to dominate her eldest son. She was horrified when he began to show pity and love for the poor.

St. Francis-like, he worked in the fields with the serfs, regularly gave his best clothes to the destitute, and dressed in rags himself. One of his favorite occupations was to bake the bread used for the Eucharistic liturgy. Once he tried to leave home with some pilgrims bound for Jerusalem, but he was caught by his mother, punished, and taken back by force. However, this only increased his longing for a life dedicated to asceticism and prayer. He wore chains under his clothes like the ancient Syrian ascetics, and finally, when his mother was away, ran off to Kiev.

There he vainly sought admittance into various ancient monasteries—poor and without recommendation as he was—until at last Antony took him into his caves and gave him a habit. When his mother managed to get on his tracks she went straight to Antony and, affecting anxiety regarding her son, soon melted the good man’s heart. Simple man that he was, he unwisely allowed her to see her son, and once again there was a confrontation scene—though this time her physical roughness was replaced by emotional blackmail. But to no avail. Theodosius gave her no further chance of seeing him unless she herself became a nun in a convent in the city. And, in fact, this is what finally happened.

Shortly after Theodosius’s entry into the monastery, Antony, while in principle remaining its spiritual father, went off to a more distant cave and turned the direction of the community over to a monk named Barlaam. But Theodosius soon won the esteem of the other monks, not so much by the rigor of his asceticisms (though he did practice some rather extreme ones) as by his humility; so that, when Barlaam was summoned by the prince of Kiev to govern the monastery of St. Demetrius, the brothers told Antony that they wanted the new recruit as their abbot.

Barlaam had already begun to lead the growing community out of the caves by constructing a small church building. Theodosius built a larger one and surrounded it with cells and a cloister. In 1062 the monks transferred to these buildings, and the caves were hardly ever used thereafter, except as places of more or less temporary withdrawal, and finally as tombs. Into the monastery thus transformed, Theodosius introduced a more-moderate monastic rule than the extremely rigorous one that Antony had advocated.

But Theodosius did not altogether abandon either rigorous asceticism or the longing for total solitude. Though we are no longer told of the extreme austerities of his youth, it appears that he never slept except seated, and that he returned every Lent to the caves where he had ordered that he should be buried. On the whole, however, monastic life as he lived it found its whole meaning in the ceaseless opportunities it offered for humility closely bound to charity, and for his own personal deprivation for the sake of others.

As the Superior of a monastery whose prestige had grown almost overnight, and as one soon to be the intimate of Kievan princes, he nevertheless continued to dress like the poorest of beggars, and was indifferent to the scorn that this provoked. He preached to his community by example rather than by precept.

When the cook complained that the brothers had not brought in a fresh supply of wood, it was he who quietly set himself to the task while the others were at table. They were so dismayed, on coming out of the refectory, to see him with a hatchet in his hand and surrounded by logs, that they all soon set to work.

But things did not always turn out so well, and it is obvious from reading his exhortations to the brothers that they took things easily where discipline was concerned, knowing that nothing would be said however much they trod on their Superior’s toes. When he heard monks chatting in their cells when they should have been asleep or at prayer, he contented himself with tapping gently on their doors as a warning. And if he summoned them for a reprimand, he would give it by means of a parable that they were quite free to not understand.

However, on one point Theodosius was intractable: poverty. If he discovered superfluous provisions anywhere in the monastery, he had them thrown on the fire at once. But for that matter, the pantry steward rarely had opportunity to put much aside, for the monastery was a center of charity where almost everything that come in was promptly given out again. And when this deliberately improvident economy resulted in shortage, we are told that Theodosius solved the situation by an unobtrusive miracle—a gold piece delivered by an angel, for instance ….

Otherwise he seems to have impressed the brothers especially by the serene continuity of his prayer, and by the way he repelled the assaults of both devils and brigands by the angelic presences he drew to the monastery. An episode in which the saint’s prayer and humility came together with his delightful simplicity occurred once when he was praying in his cell. On hearing someone coming to awaken him he stopped singing and answered only at the third knock, so that the caller might think he had been asleep.

That same simplicity characterized his relations with princes. Not only did he receive them without being any more impressed by their splendor than irked by their importunity, but he accepted their invitations with good grace. That did not prevent him from censuring their pagan recreations that he was able to observe on such occasions, nor from boldly denouncing their extortions. When Prince Sviatoslav (one of Prince Vladimir’s descendants) dispossessed his elder brother Isviaslav, Theodosius consented to resume relations with him. But the monk never hid from the usurper that he looked on his brother as the lawful sovereign, and exhorted him to the end to put his brother back on the throne.

It’s easy to understand how such a humble-but-straight-forward personality made Theodosius a quickly-popular saint. But his sort of moderate asceticism was to have less influence on the later norms of the Petcherskaia Lavra than St. Antony’s rigorous style did. It seems that the moderation of the Lavra became even more relaxed after Theodosius’s death, triggering a counter-reaction of severe asceticism among his more serious successors, who set their eyes on a return to the extreme disciplines of St. Antony.

For example, there was John the Sufferer, who had himself buried alive, and Pimen the Sickly, who was perpetually, intentionally diseased. Another outstanding figure in this ascetic tradition was actually from the time of Theodosius, and set probably the first example of a type of saint that was to become common in Russia: the “fool for Christ.” This Isaac, so possessed with his battles against devils that he eventually sank into hallucinatory madness, was rescued from this by Theodosius. He thereupon took over the vilest tasks of the kitchen until, when seeing that his brothers regarded him as a saint, he simulated a relapse to defer their praise.

The Scholar/Preacher

In the late 12th century there lived the only monk besides Theodosius of whom we have a biography dating from before the Mongol invasions: St. Abraham of Smolensk, who died in 1221. Like Theodosius, Abraham was initially attracted to monasticism by its vow of poverty. But once a monk he developed a passion for study, and was one of the first preachers and writers of old Russia. It was the Bible that interested him, with such commentaries of the Church Fathers as he could get hold of. And among these the apocryphal writings of the first few centuries A.D. seem to have particularly claimed his attention. Their apocalyptical mysticism fascinated him. His preaching, and his personal prayers, seem to have been dominated by the fear of God’s imminent judgment and an impatient expectation of eternal life.

To understand these characteristics and the significance they had for him, we must place them in historical context. Christianity in that day had barely penetrated the pagan masses, and then heretical gnostic ideas, such as a revived Manichaeism, began to mingle with the faith. Against this background, it is not surprising that Abraham’s knowledge and speculations caused him to be suspected of heresy, the jealousy of his unlettered brothers seizing too quickly on what was unusual in his reading and preoccupations. Yet it was a very authentic biblical vein that he had recaptured in his exalted expectation of the Judge and the Savior. His vision of imminent judgment, in fact, gave way to an anticipation of the heavenly city, and a longing for its luminous beauty, to which his taste for the liturgy and for iconography bore equal witness. With St. Abraham it seems clear that the Russian vision of a transfigured world, linked to Christ’ resurrection, was very consciously also that of the world beyond death, as being the only one that could be beyond sin.

Biblical Echoes

If we take the Russian Christian’s early fascination with the image of Christ as the humbled servant, together with the moderated asceticism of Theodosius and the apocalyptic thought of Abraham, we cannot avoid being struck by the resounding echoes of the Bible to be heard. It is certain that the Bible, the liturgy, various great ascetic texts, and the apocryphal writings in which the mostly primitive Christianity is expressed, for many years constituted almost the only literary stock of knowledge in this corner of Christendom. Some have said that the peoples in these regions were especially attuned to these “more simple, straightforward approaches to faith” whatever the reason, it was only slowly and always sporadically that they would be influenced by the more intellectual forms of Greek Christianity.

Whether or not we believe there was a particular affinity between the Slav soul and the Bible, this soul was frequently to give a renewed vision of Christianity—one close to the gospel as well as to the prophets—precisely because of this providential concentration on the Bible illumined by the contemplative aspects of the Greek fathers on the Byzantine liturgy, and an instinctive predilection for Syriac patristics. The relationship of the man of God with the prophets of the Bible, in whatever guise the man of God would take in Russia, was to remain striking feature. Whether monks or bishops the Russes’ ancient teachers in the faith all had a freedom of utterance and an inspired and spontaneous mode expression, whether they were addressing common people or princes.

The Brave Metropolitan

This is also illustrated in St. Philip, a metropolitan of Moscow who was martyred in 1569, during the formation the Muscovite Empire. Addressing Ivan the Terrible during a service in the Cathedral of the Dormition, he said: “Sire, we are offering here a bloodless sacrificed while the blood of Christians is flowing behind this sanctuary.” The angry prince tried to silence him, but he went on, “I cannot keep quiet, for I cannot obey your command rather than God’s. I am fighting for the true and the good, and I shall continue to do so even if I forfeit my dignity and suffer the cruellest wrongs.” Not long after this the leaders of the Church were throttled by the temporal power in Muscovite Russia, which had become the Third Rome.

The Spiritual Prince

Ancient Russian spirituality, like its Latin and Byzantine counterparts, was mainly monastic spirituality. Yet it would be a mistake to think that it therefore neglected the problems specific to lay spirituality. In this, Russia was different from the Western Middle Ages, and even the Byzantine Middle Ages, and the reason for this was first and foremost the strongly evangelical direction of at least one part of Russian monasticism since its very beginnings. Just as it had been with primitive monasticism, the monk in Russia was not so much someone who had a vocation apart, as someone who had a particularly intense vocation to fulfill the simple, basic Christian requirements. This was also probably why the layman saw monastic life less as an ideal life, impossible of attainment, than as a positive incentive to transpose into his own conditions the aspiration to be found there at the height of its purity.

If we judged by the paucity of penitential books for laymen published in Russia in its earliest years, then we would say this mindset was little present. But actually, it was already so prevalent in the culture that little had to be written about it. The extent of this can be seen in a treatise written by a layman for his own sons, the Admonition of Prince Vladimir Monomach, (r. 1113–1125). Though the reflections of a prince and stamped with his personal experience, it is so deeply meditated that it could easily be applied to all men with professional and family responsibilities.

The religion expressed in it is founded explicitly on the fear of God. But we do not have to read far to see that his fear should be understood in the deepest biblical sense of a religious reverence wholly penetrated by Christianity. God, the book says, is the just Judge, and a judge who does not wait for the next life to mete out the retribution fitting to our actions, but uses our actions to bring retribution here and now. But he is also an infinitely merciful Father, who waits only for repentance to bestow forgiveness, and calls it forth by this same forgiveness. Vladimir wrote:

“Verily, my sons, understand how merciful and overmerciful is the loving God; we men, being sinful and mortal, if someone wrongs us, we wish to lacerate him and shed his blood; but our Lord, master of life and death, endures our sins which are above our head, over and over, until the end of our life, as a father, who loves his child, beats it but draws it to him again.”

Furthermore, Vladimir shows a deep awareness of the creation, in which we observe something of the age-old poetic depth of the Slav pagan’s soul. But in Vladimir this element is wholly Christianized, in the vein of an entirely biblical thanksgiving.

We should be totally mistaken if we imagined that these outbursts of religious lyricism, coming so unexpectedly from a realistic politician and warchief, were some form of emotional compensation sought in a vague aestheticism. On the contrary, the theme of this layman’s religion is the necessity for work, for patient and persevering work and study brought to bear on all the tasks for which he is responsible. Indeed, reversing the dictum to which we are accustomed, he says admirably that prayer has value only in so far as it is a higher form of work.

On the other hand, he has a deep sense of the reality of sin, shown in his numerous quotes from the Lenten liturgy and the prayers of repentance proper to it. Repentance, tears and alms are the three weapons by which every man should ceaselessly combat the enemy he carries within himself. Vladimir gives this specific advice to his sons: “If God softens your hearts, shed tears because of your sins, saying: ‘As thou didst pardon the harlot, the robber and the publican, likewise pardon us sinners.’ ”

He does not insist on the recitation of set prayers morning and evening (although he did his best to take part in mattins and vespers as often as possible) but on a short prayer when getting up and going to bed, such as: “Enlighten my eyes, O Christ-God, who gavest Thy beautiful light,” or “Add to me, O Lord, years to years that I may praise God, having repented of my sins and justified my life.” We know he made constant use of his psalter, for he quotes from it frequently. He advises that free time occurring during the day’s occupations be used for a simple return to God:

“When you are riding on horseback and have no business conversation with anyone, if you know no other prayers, call, ‘Lord, have mercy,’ unceasingly and secretly; that prayer is best of all, better than thinking of nonsense while riding.”

He insists with particular force on the elimination of all pride from the heart, and at least one scholar has noted that Vladimir calls God a terrible judge only in the context of the commandment of love for men. Generosity, not excluding (far from it) firmness, seems to him the essential duty of the prince, with the absence of all avarice that meditation on death should bring about. In the list of lay works that he is always mentioning he includes, naturally, war and hunting. But we should note that he inculcates the duty of avoiding all other killing, and makes no secret of his opposition on principle to capital punishment.

It would be difficult to find elsewhere, especially at that time, such a complete and high ideal for the Christian layman.

The Country-Saving Monk

The Mongol/Tartar invasion (1227–1240) produced a general collapse of the political, economic and cultural life of the Russes, especially in the cities where Christianity had known its earliest developments, and where monasteries had been early established. When some form of national life was resumed in the 14th century, centered on the principality of Moscow, the rebirth of religion was closely linked to the rebirth of monasticism. But the monks of this period, at least the most fervent and influential among them, took to leaving the cities and settling in the vast forests of the center the North.

This trend has for many years been attributed to the man who was to become the patron of Moscow and all Russia, St. Sergius of Radonezh (d. 1392). In fact this trend was general and spontaneous, with St. Sergius being no more than an outstanding representative of it; but we can study it more readily in Sergius, because a very remarkable biography was written about him soon after his death. He and his followers had apparently been influenced by their contemporaries in Greece, whom they resembled not only in their taste for solitude but in the intensity of their inner prayer, in which a mystical aspiration now showed itself for the first time in Russia.

Sergius was born to a noble family of Rostov, northwest of Moscow. The family later settled in Radonezh, but the young Sergius, after an encounter with a monk who opened his mind to the things of God, soon left home and settled himself in the solitudes of a forest. He built himself a chapel with a cell, but only became a monk through the intervention of a neighboring priest-monk, Abbot Metrophanes. At first Sergius lived entirely alone, in familiarity with wild beasts and taming a wild bear. Then companions joined him.

Metrophanes had visited them more or less regularly, but when he died they forced Sergius to become Superior of the Lavra they had set up. In the end he had a vast monastery around him, with a church building dedicated to the Holy Trinity; and soon a village started to grow up around the monastery. Like Theodosius, Sergius applied, or tried to apply, a moderate rule. But as he also had Theodosius’s humility (he insisted on wearing rags, bringing endless contempt on his head, as no one could believe such an insignificant-looking man was a renowned Superior) as well as his concern for individual and collective poverty, he does not seem to have been any more successful in imposing authority on his monks.

Finally, when his own brother entered the community and conspired against him, he withdrew into total solitude once more, until he was entreated to return. Yet his influence outside the monastery was extraordinary. The metropolitan of Moscow, Alexis, who was for some time regent of the Muscovite state, often employed him for political missions.

Some of these concerned positive reconciliations between warring princes or cities. But others—foreshadowing a new conjunction between church and state—were not always so positive, as when he laid a city under an interdict because its prince refused to submit to Moscow. But his national glory was due primarily to the blessing and encouragement he gave to Prince Dmitri Donskoy on the eve of the first great Russian victory over the Tartars at the battle of Kulikovo (1380).

However, if the Lavra of the Trinity was a charity center with social works more highly developed than those of many older monasteries, and even a center of national renewal it remained first and foremost a sanctuary for the most fervent prayer. We are not told that Sergius practiced any form of aseticism other than the most humble work and the most complete self-abnegation; but the fervor of his prayer is brought out by his biographer, manifested in certain luminous visions that surrounded his person (such as an angel concelebrating with him, or the radiance of the chalice he had just consecrated).

At the end of his life he shut himself up in total silence. But, of this man of prayer and solitude—a solitude peopled with the crowds who flocked around him—it is an impression of radiant sweetness and matchless goodness that will endure. Despite what the modern Soviet government would like, Sergius’s grave is still the most frequented and the place of most fervent pilgrimage in all Russia, well outdrawing that of V.I. Lenin, the Soviet Union’s founder.

These stories of spirituality among the Orthodox believers of the Russes come only from the period between 988 and 1450; a thousand more stories could be told from this same period, not to mention the years between 1450 and today. But these are in some sense representative. Of course, with the exception of Vladimir Monomach’s, these are stories of monastic spirituality, and largely leave unmentioned the spirituality of the laymen and women of the Russes. Yet these tales should be enough to demonstrate that—for Westerners at least—a vast, practically unknown treasure of spiritual exploration and discovery lies waiting to be found.

Louis Bouyer was a priest of the Oratory in Paris, France, and a professor of spiritual theology at the Institut Catholique. A freguent contributor to French periodicals, he is widely known in the U.S. and Great Britain for his speaking and writing. His works translated into English include The Spirit and Forms of Protestantism; The Meaning of Sacred Scripture; Word, Church and Sacraments in Protestantism and Catholicism; and An Introduction to Spirituality.

- More from Louis Bouyer and The Editors

Pastors

BEING MORAL ISN’T ALWAYS ENOUGH

Archibald D. Hart

What you may do and what you should do are two different things.

I recently counseled a pastor of many years’ experience. Six months before he came to see me, the husband of a 38-year-old woman from his congregation had died suddenly of a heart attack. The young widow needed grief counseling, so the pastor agreed to see her weekly. The widow (let’s call her Carol) found great comfort in the counseling.

One day she brought Don, the pastor, a small gift-an expensive, gold-trimmed pen that had belonged to her husband. “I just want to show my appreciation for all the help you’ve given me,” she told Don. She felt it would have been her husband’s wish. Pastor Don was a little surprised, but not wanting to offend Carol (and it was a beautiful pen!), he accepted the gift graciously.

Two weeks later she brought her husband’s stereo Walkman and wondered whether Don might not enjoy listening to music when he went jogging. Don protested mildly but again accepted the gift, admitting to himself that the Walkman had been on his list of desirable, but too expensive, amenities.

A week later Carol insisted that Don have her husband’s new golf clubs. “It’s what he would have wanted me to do,” she countered when he at first demurred.

Then she asked whether they could meet twice a week, because she was “getting so much out of the time together.” Without realizing what he was doing, Don acquiesced. Week after week, a few more gifts accompanied Carol, who was becoming increasingly dependent on the time spent with Don.

Early one morning, Don woke with a sudden realization: This relationship with Carol is getting unhealthy, and I’ve been encouraging it! Carol had begun to transfer all her affection and needs from her deceased husband to him. He panicked. How will I ever get out of this mess?

At first he thought he would simply gather together all the gifts and return them to Carol, insisting she see someone else for counseling. But how would she take it? She was fragile. Perhaps she’d even threaten suicide. Don recalled how a colleague once rejected a parishioner who had become attached to him, and she had responded with false accusations that they had been having an affair. Would Carol do this to me? he wondered. In desperation, he sought help from me.

Moral but Not Ethical

An experience like Don’s can creep up on us and catch us unaware. It illustrates that we can be moral while being unethical. I’m sure Paul alluded to this when he said, ” ‘All things are lawful,’ but not all things are helpful. ‘All things are lawful,’ but not all things build up” (1 Cor. 10:23, RSV). Most Christian leaders are highly moral. But they’re not always ethically sensitive.

It’s a strange paradox in Christian ministry: we can be supersensitive to sin and immoral behaviors, but we are often oblivious to the need for ethical boundaries. This partially accounts for the fall of upright, spiritual, and well-intentioned pastors. Christian leaders can be so preoccupied with discerning whether something is sinful that they ignore the trickier question: Is this action a stepping stone to sin, even though it may not be sinful in and of itself?

This is why morality itself isn’t always enough. These days, the integrity of the church is being questioned-and judged-at all levels. Could it be the underlying problem is not so much our lack of morality as it is our insensitivity to, and lack of, broad ethical guidelines to govern the practice of ministry?

Most professions have a code of ethics, a clearly spelled out code that warns how certain behaviors, innocent in and of themselves, may lead to problems and abuses. These codes have been developed over many years, more out of bad experiences than out of any belief about morality or sensitivity to sin. In fact, with many of these codes you would be hard pressed to come up with an absolute moral principle to explain why a behavior is proscribed. Only through analysis of many experiences have people learned that certain behaviors can well lead to a possible sinful or immoral outcome.

For instance, when Don first accepted that pen from Carol, he asked himself, Should I take this gift? He decided to take the gift (and the many that followed) using a simple morality test: Is it a sin to take this gift?

Surely not, he told himself. Don knew the difference between sin and nonsin. There’s nothing wrong with a pen. She’s giving it freely, believing it’s what her husband would want her to do. She probably needs to give the gift as a way of feeling her husband’s belongings are doing some good.

The rationalizations were so effective that Don felt no guilt about the gifts. In fact, he began to look forward to each session, wondering what surprise was in store. He never asked the questions: Is it ethical for me to take this gift? Might my acceptance put me under obligation to Carol? Could she be transferring her needs and affections to me, and would my acceptance of these gifts encourage her dependence?

The Value of a Code of Ethics

How does a code of ethics affect our morality? When most of us think about morality, we think mainly in terms of distinguishing between sin and nonsin. We look for a fairly clean-cut division between the two, a narrow and well-defined line. Some of these boundaries we accept on the authority of Scripture, while others we derive from experience. For example, I don’t need Scripture to tell me that disobeying a traffic signal can be harmful. I know this from experience.

The danger is that the more closely we define moral boundaries, identifying what sin is and is not, the greater the tendency to disengage ethical reasoning. Why agonize over what we already know? The problem, however, is that people don’t stop to discern how a behavior might have a longer-term detrimental outcome. That’s when the wisdom of experience embodied in ethical principles comes in handy.

The most vulnerable leaders, in fact, are those who consider themselves safe because they “know what sin is.” Perhaps belief in our ability to discern sinfulness gives us a false sense of security. It may well make us insensitive to the need for ethical principles.

In seminars and lectures on this topic, I often find myself having to defend this need against allegations of “Pharisaic lawmaking.” I commonly hear, “But I have the Spirit to convict me when I sin, so I don’t need written rules to guide my behavior.”

There, I say to myself, is a person vulnerable to an integrity problem.

To put it all simply: Much we do in ministry is not immoral, but certain behaviors are unethical simply because in the majority of cases they lead to harmful or sinful outcomes.

I think of morality as the edge of a precipice. On the one side is safe ground (nonsin); on the other, disastrous sin. It’s only one step from safety to falling off the cliff. A code of ethics is like a fence erected well back from the precipice edge. It warns all those who come close that this is dangerous territory: CAUTION! PASS HERE AT YOUR OWN RISK.

Given the propensity of the human mind to engage in denial and rationalization, it’s no wonder that many fall off the cliff. Sin blinds us as we approach it, so we are wise to first consider ethical dangers. Perhaps this is what Paul had in mind when he wrote: “All these things happened to them as examples-as object lessons to us-to warn us against doing the same things; they were written down so that we could read about them and learn from them in these last days as the world nears its end” (1 Cor. 10:11, LB).

As I reflect on the many Christian leaders I have known who have fallen, I am struck by the fact that in almost every instance, failure could have been prevented had the person been sensitive to basic ethical principles. Of course there are exceptions-outright stealing or blatant seduction-but these instances are rare. The majority of Christian leaders who fall do so without intentionally choosing this course of action at the outset. They don’t so much disobey their ethics as ignore them.

What are some of the ethical principles we ignore only at our peril?

Foundational Principles

Let’s look again at Don. What rules did he violate? First, he was probably unaware that in all other counseling professions, receiving gifts, other than payment for services rendered, is taboo. Accepting gifts opens the counselor to feelings of obligation. Counselors can be exploited-even manipulated-by those who give a present one day and demand a favor the next. In like manner, counselors may subtly manipulate others into giving things to them. Since pastors are typically not paid by clients for counseling (other than through a salary), the receiving of gifts puts integrity at risk.

Second, Don seemed unaware of how accepting the gifts, especially since they had belonged to the deceased husband, was encouraging Carol to transfer to him her unmet needs. As she became more and more emotionally attached to him, a “dual relationship” was developing. Dual relationships, in which a counselor becomes involved in more than a professional way with a client (typically in close friendship, a business arrangement, or romantic involvement), are severely frowned upon by other helping professions. It’s considered bad practice.

Third, the matter of gifts in general presents a problem. Receiving gifts from parishioners, even substantial ones like cars or stocks, is a common occurrence, especially in wealthier churches. Often it is done without others’ knowing about it.

One pastor recently told me of his concern about accepting a paid vacation to Europe for him and his wife. It came from a parishioner who “just wanted to show his love and appreciation for all I’d done.” The benefactor further justified the gift by claiming, “God told me to share my prosperity with you.”

Six months after returning from this trip, the pastor got wind of some shady dealings by the parishioner. People were demanding the man’s removal from the board of deacons.

What was the pastor to do? How could he turn and attack the man who had been so generous?

By receiving the substantial gift, this pastor had almost forfeited his right (or perhaps his duty) to be true to his calling and to act without partiality. Not that pastors should never be given gifts. I do, however, plead for an ethical sensitivity to the potential consequences.

Fourth, there’s the matter of secrets. Often, gifts or other benefits are given in secret. Don and the pastor who received the vacation didn’t exactly announce their good fortune. Givers urge confidentiality to avoid offending others, so churches are full of secrets-information kept away from others for fear of causing offense.

But secrets are seldom healthy. They destroy community, breed suspicion, and undermine trust. They function to divide loyalties and inhibit love.

Most ethical dilemmas can be avoided if we’re willing to be open and accountable. Extramarital affairs don’t happen when a husband is open with his wife, and pastors don’t compromise themselves when they declare all to a responsible body to whom they hold themselves accountable. As a general rule, I assert that if any behavior requires that a “secret” be maintained, it’s probably ethically questionable.

Principles of Pastoral Ethics

I readily acknowledge that some of the unique roles of the pastor don’t easily lend themselves to ethical codes. Therefore, I’ll try to emphasize basic principles rather than specific behaviors. Full codes of ethics of the American Psychological Association, the American Association for Marriage and Family Therapy, the American Association of Pastoral Counselors, and the Christian Association for Psychological Studies are found in the appendix of Clergy Malpractice by H. Newton Malony, Thomas L. Needham, and Samuel Southard (Westminster, 1986). Let me focus here, however, on four important ethical principles that shed light on how to act in questionable situations.

-The Principle of Accountability. We can trace the crisis of integrity today not so much to blatant dishonesty as to a tendency toward autonomy and independence. There is a natural tendency in all of us to want to avoid being subjected to control by others. If I were a pastor, I’d want to be accountable to a governing or peer group. Accountability to another, even when you are the top leader of an organization or church, is the only way to safeguard against poor judgment, unconscious motivations, and self-deception. And that accountability must be regular, personal, face-to-face, honest, and transparent.

How this is set up will vary. Concerning gifts and favors, for example, it means reporting them to a responsible committee that in turn is obligated to report to the body at large. Being accountable means benefiting from the perspective of a larger group. By agreeing on a general policy, the group can provide guidance on whether the gift or favor is inappropriate. Accountability prevents abuse of privileges and provides a balancing mechanism.

In the realm of sexuality, I advocate an open accountability with one’s spouse or peer group. This is particularly important when counseling the opposite sex, where there is a great risk of transference and countertransference. Professional counselors hold themselves accountable to another when they sense a risk. By discussing their feelings or their impressions of a client, they force themselves to confront deeper thoughts or intentions. It’s amazing how quickly you defuse an attraction or lustful desire for someone else when you force yourself to talk about it to someone to whom you feel accountable.

-The Principle of Confidentiality. Pastors have a primary obligation to respect the confidentiality of information obtained in the course of their work. They reveal information to others only with the consent of the person or when there is a clear danger to the person or others.

I have sometimes cringed when in a sermon a pastor has revealed the contents of a counseling session as an illustration. Permission must be obtained from the parties involved before personal stories are fair game for public discourse. The contents of counseling sessions ought not to be discussed with even a spouse or other staff members without a compelling reason.

Part of maintaining confidentiality is safeguarding records. I suggest that notes and files from counseling be kept in a locked file accessible to only the primary counselor. Such records should eventually be destroyed, not just thrown in the trash. Loose lips and careless practices prove not only destructive to the body, but they also put us at risk of legal action.

-The Principle of Responsibility. All of us need to maintain the highest standards of personal and professional conduct and accept the consequences of our acts. This means refusing to perform any actions outside our training and experience, and readily seeking the cooperation of other professionals when confronted with a problem we cannot resolve. It also means giving the welfare of a parishioner or counselee our highest concern and avoiding a conflict of interest. To avoid those conflicts, sometimes it’s necessary to inform others of the nature and direction of our loyalties.

Recent court actions (for example, the Nally case in California, in which the parents of a young man who committed suicide sued the pastor) show that the standard of care provided by pastors is open to challenge. Pastors bring spiritual aid, but increasingly, they need to understand the genetic factors in some mental illnesses or how medication can provide relief to depressive or schizophrenic symptoms. The competent (and ethical) minister will ensure that parishioners have access to all legitimate forms of treatment.

-The Principle of Integrity. Those persons set apart by the church for specific service (and I don’t mean just ordained clergy) are expected to be without fault (1 Tim. 3:1-13). This probably leads to an unrealistic set of expectations. It is just as well that the work of ministry is covered by much forgiveness!

Churches may tolerate a lot of failure and weakness in pastors, but there has to be a fundamental personal integrity (wholeness, honesty, uprightness) for effective church leadership. To have integrity means to have the honesty to confront the reasons for failure and to take responsibility for that failure. When people question a pastor’s integrity, as opposed to his or her sinlessness, there’s trouble.

The principle of integrity covers many areas. Foremost, perhaps, is the realization that a spiritual leader has tremendous power with people. This power derives from the role and not so much from the person, although a charismatic personality enhances power.

The problem comes with the abuse of that power. Power can be used to influence people into giving you things or into obeying your every command. Cult leader Jim Jones taught us this lesson. This power can be used to seduce an unwitting parishioner who believes you can do no wrong and therefore the affair must be without sin.

Honesty figures into integrity, too. Take, for example, the widespread habit of passing off as one’s own other people’s ideas in sermons. Obviously, we cannot always remember the source of information to give adequate credit, and little of what we create is truly original. But blatant repeating of what others have said-and presenting it as our own-is just plain, old-fashioned plagiarism.

Then there is the area of competitiveness. To be successful as a pastor, it seems, one has to be competitive, and this raises many ethical questions.

A pastor recently told me about his frustration with a nearby minister who had begun a visitation program of his church members, having obtained a list from a disgruntled former member. Before invading the ministerial territory of a colleague, he at least could have shown the courtesy of informing the colleague of his intentions and the reasons for doing so. Ethical sensitivities are not designed to restrict ministry but to avoid hurt and self-destruction. Telling our intentions ahead of time is always a sound rule.

A Personal Responsibility

A healthy concern for morality is not enough to maintain a ministry of integrity. Each pastor has the responsibility to develop a personal code of ethics tailored to his or her unique set of role circumstances.

Simply wrestling with such a personal code begins to sensitize one to the issues. Over time, there begins to develop an “ethical sense”-a natural ability to tell if an action is likely to become a problem.

All told, we need great wisdom and a clear code of ethics so as not to become obstacles to the gospel but rather to uphold a ministry of honesty, integrity, and reconciliation.

Archibald D. Hart is dean of the Graduate School of Psychology at Fuller Theological Seminary, Pasadena, California.

- More from Archibald D. Hart

Pastors

HOW PURE MUST A PASTOR BE?

A Leadership Forum

Responding to the intense scrutiny presidential candidates have received lately, one contender complained, “We’re running for President, not sainthood.” Does such a distinction hold true for pastors?

On one hand, pastors are full-fledged members of the human race. They sin daily. On the other hand, pastors labor in a profession in which character is critical. They’re called to lead and teach and model not some technical skill but a life. When pastors fall, they can wound many believers.

So how pure does a pastor need to be? LEADERSHIP posed the question to four key individuals. Two are pastors:

-Eugene Peterson, pastor of Christ Our King Presbyterian Church in Bel Air, Maryland.

-Charles Swindoll, pastor of First Evangelical Free Church in Fullerton, California.

The other two are denominational officials who daily deal with the care, certification, and discipline of ministers:

-G. Raymond Carlson, general superintendent of the Assemblies of God, headquartered in Springfield, Missouri.

-Donald Njaa, executive secretary of the ministry, The Evangelical Covenant Church, headquartered in Chicago.

PART I: WHAT IS INTEGRITY?

Leadership: Is integrity visible? Can you recognize a leader who has it?

Donald Njaa: I think it is visible, but only after knowing somebody pretty well. You can’t determine whether someone has integrity just by sitting down for lunch.

Chuck Swindoll: With a person of integrity, you feel something solid. That’s the idea in the Hebrew root word-there’s something solid, of substance. It isn’t a veneer.

Raymond Carlson: I define integrity as being complete, being whole. Generally you can sense a person who walks with God through the discernment the Holy Spirit gives.

Swindoll: Yes, we can sense that. However, I have been fooled. I have been shocked.

Eugene Peterson: That’s because it’s harder to detect integrity in pastors and Christian leaders than in almost anybody else. We’re better at cover-up. We were brought up being con artists, and we improve at it as we get older.

Leadership: Why? Because those who preach every week are forced to talk farther than they’re able to walk?

Peterson: We’re not forced to, but we’re tempted to; there’s always the opportunity, so we usually do.

Swindoll: How do you combat that?

Peterson: I think we need to tell our congregations, “Don’t trust your pastor.”

Swindoll: That’s a new twist. (Laughter)

Peterson: I’m serious. We need to make it clear that we don’t want an exception to be made for us, that we desire to be held accountable.

Swindoll: The reason for that is that the ministry is a character profession.

A couple of years ago I attended my first meeting of the board of Dallas Seminary. I was a rookie, and surrounding this table were all these wise, responsible people. But I risked expressing my concern: “We just graduated two hundred and some people last night. I see their grade-point average, and I’m impressed. Can anybody speak for the character of any of these graduates?”

There was a long pause.

I continued, “I don’t have any particular student in mind. In fact, I’d probably endorse them just on the basis of your recommendation. But can anybody here say these graduates have ‘the goods’?”

Now I have great respect for what this and many other seminaries are doing. But what concerned me is that ministry is a character profession. You can sleep around and still be a skillful brain surgeon. But you can’t do that in ministry without its coming back and seriously impacting your ministry.

Sometimes I think we need to go back to the farm and learn the basic stuff about milking every day, and doing the crops regularly, and showing up at the time you ought to be there. You demonstrate integrity by gutting it out, doing what you said you’d do.

Carlson: Another aspect of integrity is veracity, a habitual truthfulness. I place great stock in whether a person’s word is his bond, because if it is, that says something about what’s deep within him.

Njaa: Another thing I check: “Does the person distance himself from close peers?” The person who lacks integrity tends to do that.

People say the first step toward trouble for a minister is moving away from God, but that’s hard to detect, because it’s a private thing. The second step is withdrawing from peers, becoming a loner. So I ask: How does the person relate to other Christian leaders? Does he have friends who know him well?

PART II: WHAT DISQUALIFIES?

Leadership: Paul tells Titus that overseers are to be “blameless,” and yet we’re all sinners. How pure does a pastor need to be?

Swindoll: Using the words without reproach and blameless is a pretty sweeping way to start that list. If we take blameless to mean simply “without blame, without sin,” I’ve never met anyone blameless. I’m not; not a person on my staff is.

It seems to me what we’re getting at is that when we do fail, we say it. Integrity means we don’t hide our stumble; we don’t act like we didn’t

Njaa: I think ministers can-and do-sin deeply and awfully and yet recover. But there needs to be a process that allows them to discover forgiveness. If the second sin follows the first so quickly that cover-up begins before they get a chance to be forgiven, they’re going to lack integrity for the rest of their lives. Those I’ve had to remove from ministry all testify, “As soon as I sinned, I began to cover it up.”

Swindoll: Yes. There’s some point on the spectrum where disqualification occurs. As I’ve talked with some pastors who have fallen, they’ve said, “You know, it got to the point where I could do such-and-such without feeling it, and I could still preach, and it just didn’t bother me anymore.” I thought, Something happened between that day and three days earlier when it was unacceptable. When you can sin and live with it, you’re in trouble.

Carlson: I used to have a little formula that I thought worked: “A person can preach and have sin in his life, but a person cannot pray and have sin in his life.” But then I discovered that some ministers do pray and yet commit ongoing sin. They sleep with a church secretary, kneel and ask God to forgive, and then do it again. I don’t have all the answers for that, but there are those who can deceive people for a long time.

Njaa: I know a pastor who had a troubled relationship with his church. They said he lacked integrity, though no specific charges came out. He left the church, went to another city, took a little church, and built it into a good-sized church, the largest size in its history. Only then did it come out that he was, and had been, sleeping with a woman in the previous church. He had to be removed from ministry.

Swindoll: But he had an effective ministry while this was going on?

Njaa: Yes. Sooner or later the ministry falls, but it can go on for years.

Leadership: Is it possible for a church to expect too much integrity from a pastor? Can they expect too much self-sacrifice, too much accountability?

Peterson: I don’t think a congregation can expect too much of a pastor, but I think they can expect the wrong things.

I have a congregation of three hundred people, all sinners like me. They come to church because they want a holy life. But instead of listening to the Word of God that I preach, instead of going into prayer before God themselves, they project these religious desires on me. They make me into a kind of holy person and expect me to be that for them. It’s easy to let them; I like it.

Leadership: How do you know that people are doing this?

Peterson: They admire you. They want to hear you speak. Often, though, they do not get close to you, because they might be disappointed. And because intimacy is difficult for me, as it is for them, it’s more comfortable for me to let that distance develop.

Leadership: So when people put you on a pedestal, it threatens your integrity as a pastor.

Peterson: I’m almost never tempted to do something bad, evil, sinful. Every temptation that comes to me is packaged as a good-something wonderful that these people, out of good motives, want me to do. But ultimately it keeps me from being wholly faithful to God in my vocation as a pastor.

Swindoll: Eugene, you admitted that you like it when people put you up there on a pedestal. Maybe I didn’t read correctly how you meant that, but I don’t like that. It puts me in a corner; it puts me in a mold of perfection I have to keep breaking out of. I’d rather remind people regularly of my struggles.

Also, unlike you, I am tempted in really bad areas. Maybe I’m not tempted to steal from Chase Manhattan Bank, but I have pretty gross things that flash into my mind at times. They aren’t wrapped in good. There are times, in all honesty, when I have entertained temptations I knew were evil. They weren’t good, and I knew they wouldn’t be good at the end. But the attraction was still there.

Leadership: What kinds of sins disqualify someone from pastoral leadership?

Carlson: A lust for power and wealth would, in my mind, be a disqualifier for ministry, because it inevitably leads to a lack of integrity.

One of our districts studied the ministers who had been disciplined for sexual impurity and discovered every one had failed earlier in financial dealings-living a lie about tithing, or not paying bills. The lust for money begins a trail that leads to impurity.

Njaa: Crime, such as theft or fraud, would take somebody out of ministry, at least for a while. Leaving your spouse for someone else would also.

Peterson: Does anybody ever get disciplined for sloth? Or for pride? I’m a little uneasy talking about integrity only in the context of adultery, theft, or embezzlement. The ministers I know are not wrestling with adultery and theft. We’re dealing with stuff that could end up there ten years from now, but right now it’s the small, everyday battles.

Leadership: What are the daily battle areas?

Peterson: Ambition, pride, lying, sloth, anger. I can be angry for six months and not know it’s anger; I have half a dozen euphemisms for it-“I’m grieved for this person.”

Swindoll: Or, “I’m concerned for this person.”

Peterson: Yes. And I lie a lot. Usually my wife or my kids call me on it-I overspeak unconsciously, or I varnish the truth. I can get by with that, with most people, for quite a long time.

When I notice it most is when I’m with my spiritual director. She is such a whole person that stuff I didn’t notice in my life, I do notice around her. Suddenly I’m exposed. She doesn’t necessarily say anything; she just is something.

I’ll give you an example of the kind of daily sin she puts a finger on. I came back from my sabbatical and thought, I’m never going to be in a hurry again. I was immersed in prayer; I felt so good. But then we had to start a building program, and I had to take leadership in areas I don’t normally.

In the middle of this, I began feeling restless, showing up late or too early; the margins of leisure went out of my life. So I said to my director, “I’m so upset with myself. I was immersed in prayer; I thought I could never get out of that, and here I am anxious and irritated.”

She said to me, “Why are you so upset about being anxious? Do you think you’re superhuman?” She attacked not my lack of serenity but my pride. I had proudly thought I could never be anxious again.

Carlson: We deal with cases that involve the range of issues mentioned so far, though we don’t get them all dealt with as we should. We’re called into situations in which a minister has violated one of the Assemblies of God principles-twelve reasons for discipline, including “Any conduct unbecoming to a minister or indiscretions involving morals” (that has to be defined), and “general inefficiency in the ministry.”

Swindoll: There’s the sloth.

Carlson: Other things on the list include “a contentious or noncooperative spirit, an assumption of dictatorial authority over an assembly, a declared open change in doctrinal views, a habit of running into debt which brings reproach upon the cause of Christ, a marriage in violation of our stand on marriage and divorce, and violations of ministerial courtesy.”

Leadership: Has anyone ever been defrocked solely for a “dictatorial attitude”?

Carlson: Oh, yes.

Leadership: To what extent does the person’s attitude toward the sin figure in disqualification?

Njaa: That’s a critical consideration. The natural response when someone confronts us is to deny the sin and to be angry at the accuser. So whenever a conference superintendent and I need to confront someone, if we find a lack of cover-up and a lack of anger, we know some forgiveness has already begun. If we see an openness to deal with the sin, we may not take the pastor to “court”-some board of ministry. We may decide we can handle this one quietly and allow this person to stay in ministry.

Leadership: So two criteria: lack of anger and lack of cover-up.

Njaa: Yes. Our rules say we’re to be restorative if possible. Ministers who get themselves in trouble know they can eventually be cleared and free to reenter ministry. There are many examples of that.

Swindoll: So you don’t think anyone is out permanently.

Njaa: People are out permanently if the anger and the cover-up continue, or if they continue to sin.

On the other hand, I see people who’ve made a foolish mistake, and it was taken care of, and they are back as pastors in churches. Almost every year we put people back into ministry who were taken out for two or three years. That’s more fun than anything else I do. And no one can hassle those ministers, because the decision to put them back in ministry wasn’t theirs; it was the church’s.

Swindoll: I’m all for redemptive discipline, but I’m not sure every fallen minister can be restored to the same stature. Paul says, “Lest, after I have preached to others, I myself should be disqualified. … ” I’m convinced certain sins reveal such a breakdown in integrity, the fallen one is disqualified from returning again to the high-profile leadership he enjoyed.

Carlson: We feel strongly on this.

Swindoll: That’s good to know, because I don’t often hear that. I don’t mean to come off proud or judgmental, but I don’t think repeated acts in these gross areas, or extensive cover-up, are just a matter of sin. I think they reveal a character flaw.

People say, “Well, aren’t sins forgiven?” Absolutely. I don’t think it’s even a matter of forgiveness anymore; it’s a matter of the person’s lacking the substance required of that office.

Njaa: I’m not sure I agree with the notion of a character flaw. Sin is sin; I don’t think there is anything deeper. Christ died to atone for sin. As a result, it’s very possible for someone who has sinned deeply to be restored-even to ministry.

Swindoll: The only reason I am able to sit in this room clothed and in my right mind is that I have been absolutely forgiven by Jesus Christ. But for people in high-profile leadership, there are stricter requirements. As James says, we will be judged “more strictly.”

Some people who have heard my convictions on this have taken me to task: “You haven’t really forgiven.” I really don’t have trouble forgiving the person. I believe he and I will share the joys of heaven, and he’s probably going to out-reward me for the life he lived. But I have struggles seeing him again in the position of high-profile leadership he once held. Something in my heart says, People trusted you; God used you to communicate the truth. People based their decisions, in part, on the fact you not only believed the gospel but to the best of your ability were living that. Then they find out that while he was making an incredible impact on their lives, he was living a lie. People are so disillusioned, they can never bring themselves to respect him as they once did.

Carlson: In the Assemblies of God, no credentialed minister who’s been discovered to be a homosexual can be restored to that position. Now I believe that because God is God, people can be delivered. I know people who are delivered. Scripture tells us, “Such were some of you.” And we used to restore ministers who had committed homosexual acts, but those restorations were not successful. Because of this, the general presbytery has taken this stand.

Also, personally, I can hardly imagine a minister who’s found to be guilty of incest ever qualifying for the ministry.

Swindoll: The only case in Scripture I find where a leader guilty of moral misconduct was left in the same high-profile role of leadership is David. But after Bathsheba, his life turned sour. He was confronted, and he came clean, but he lost on the battlefield, his family went crazy, there was the Amnon and Tamar scandal, Amnon was murdered, Absalom rebelled, and on and on. Now David wasn’t stoned for his sin. Talk about grace! He was under the law, he was an adulterer, and so he should have been stoned, but God graciously preserved his life. But he never reached the pinnacle he once had reached. I’m haunted by that.

In fact, I’m haunted by the fact that not another person in Scripture had a high-profile leadership position, sinned sexually, and was put back into that position. It’s mostly an argument from silence, I realize; the Bible isn’t full of people who fell like that. But isn’t it interesting to anybody else that not a soul like that is mentioned in the New Testament? Some are even turned over to Satan for the destruction of the flesh. Doesn’t sound very redemptive to me.

Peterson: I hear what Chuck is saying, but I guess my basic feeling is that there’s nothing that disqualifies us from ministry. Everything is redeemable. Scripture brims with that. Moses was a murderer, and he kept on. Abraham forced his wife into adulterous relationships-or at least was willing for that to happen. But I’ll concede Chuck’s position this much: I think in wisdom the church should use certain people only in special places in ministry.

Swindoll: I’ll agree with that.

Peterson: You see, sweeping floors is ministry. There are plenty of places of ministry in this world. But people who have enjoyed prominent ministry can get addicted to it. If they wind up as pastor of a tiny, out-of-the-way church, they think they’re being punished. But isn’t that ministry?

Swindoll: Precisely. See, the pastor who winds up in the tiny church would say, “We’re shooting our wounded.” I want to go back a step and say, “The minister who failed the flock was the one who shot the wounded.”

Peterson: I can accept that. I do think we have to be careful, though, when we use the word disqualification for ministry. I don’t think there is any.

Swindoll: Paul used the word.

Peterson: Yes, “lest I be a castaway . . .” but he could have been returned. I love the way Don talked about this: these people are all restorable, if-and I think his criteria are exact-no anger, no cover-up.

Swindoll: Yes, but restored to what? A thousand-member church? That same high-profile role?

Peterson: Not to that.

Swindoll: Okay, then I have no argument with you. But why don’t we talk about this fact that some things do disqualify? I think people in seminary need to hear that on the front end of ministry. Sometimes there aren’t second chances; how many pins does it take to pop a balloon?

Leadership: Don, would you agree with Chuck on this point? Haven’t you restored people who have committed adultery, for example?

Njaa: Yes, but the person was so restorable. One person came to us and said, “I’ve sinned. Take me out. Here are my ordination papers. Take me out of ministry.” It was a one-time problem, and there was no anger, no cover-up. We put him under care, and three years later we have him back in the church. He’s doing well.

Swindoll: Don has described something rather remarkable, and I don’t have trouble with that. We can’t forget that a “contrite heart God does not despise.” When I have a contrite heart, I don’t ask for anything, I don’t expect anything.

Njaa: Part of the problem in trying to determine something like this is that each case is unique.

Leadership: So far we’ve been talking about the sins of the leader. What about those of the leader’s children? Does a son or daughter’s rebellion reflect a person’s inability to “manage his own home”?

Njaa: My answer is no. The rebellion may well be not against the father or the mother. It may be a rebellion against the pressure they’ve been put under by a church. I don’t think you can exclude the minister because his or her child acts up.

Peterson: There are a lot of different reasons for children’s not growing up in the faith. I have three kids, all grown. One of them had an extremely difficult adolescence. Now she’s wonderful, and our two sons coming after never knew adolescence was anything but praising God. But when our daughter was in trouble, people in the congregation were as gracious to us as they could be. They took care of us. I’m really grateful they didn’t say, “Peterson, you must be doing something terrible at home because your daughter’s acting this way.”

Njaa: That kind of situation should never eliminate a pastor from ministry.

Swindoll: There’s been only one perfect Father, and he has a lot of wayward kids.

Leadership: What does the verse mean, then, that says, “If he can’t manage his own home, how can he manage the church”?

Swindoll: Eugene’s situation illustrates the distinction between a managed and unmanaged home. Eugene, it was because you have integrity that your congregation surrounded you. You had endeared yourself to those people, and not even the waywardness of a willful daughter could drive a wedge between them and you. Had you been covering up, had you been obviously alienating your family, I’m wondering if the congregation would have said, “Let’s stand by him no matter what.” They knew the most grieved person in the church was the pastor.

That’s managing a family. There was a caring attitude, a consistency and integrity that showed in your grief when a daughter turned away for a time.

Leadership: To what extent do the sins of a spouse affect a ministry?

Swindoll: We had a man on our staff whose wife left him and later married someone else. We went through an intensely difficult time because we loved that guy. We still do! His heart was so sweet. What he lacked in foresight in seeing this occurring, he made up for in his compassion and grace.

For many months we tried to keep him in our ministry, but eventually the difficulty and awkwardness of the situation became too much for the congregation-even our great flock-to handle. And we’ve got people who stay with you-two senior pastors in thirty-three years tells you something.

I finally said to him, “You know, I think you’re probably going to want to date and marry. You’re probably going to want to live the life of a married man. And I think that’s very difficult for our congregation to live through.” Sitting here today it might sound kind of harsh, but on the front end were months of prayers and tears.

Leadership: Is he in ministry today?

Swindoll: Yes. In fact, I recommended him both by phone and letter, endorsing him in his move to another fine church.

One of the difficulties is that sometimes the pastor bears some responsibility for the spouse’s drift. There was a bit of that in this case. He wasn’t guilty of gross neglect of his wife and children, but his work meant so much to him-in my opinion, too much. He is now a much more balanced and wise husband and father. And, I might add, he’s doing a superb job in ministry at another church. I would imagine he is now able to see the wisdom of his moving to another place of ministry.

Njaa: We would probably allow a minister facing that situation to stay in the church, but we’d always place him under the care of other pastors.

Of course, any big change in a minister’s life is difficult for the congregation to cope with. Things get disrupted, and that minister may have to relocate simply because people can’t cope with the change.

PART III: ACCOUNTABLE TO WHOM?

Leadership: To whom should a pastor be accountable? To a spouse? To the board? To the congregation as a whole? To peers? To God alone?

Swindoll: I’ve long since left the idea that I bow before two hundred or several thousand people-however many may be in a congregation. That many bosses would drive me mad.

In the last ten or so years of ministry, I have carefully selected a group of three men with whom I meet. Not all are from our church, so there’s confidentiality, objectivity, and freedom for all of us. The purpose in meeting is not to dwell only on sin, but also to be friends. It’s not for my benefit only, but also for the others’.

I am regularly accountable to my staff and officially to our elder board, though the larger that gets, the more unwieldy it gets. With some board members, there isn’t anything I wouldn’t tell, and to others I’m not as close.

I’m certainly also accountable to my wife and our grown children. All the Swindolls feel the freedom to address any area or offer any warning. I admit it is occasionally painful to hear, but ministry doesn’t shield me from straight talk at home; it requires it.

That’s a long answer to a hard question.

Peterson: For my work, I’m accountable to the Session. For example, during our recent building project, we had a financial goal, and we passed it. Everybody was elated. But I was furious, because I felt they had set the goal too low in the first place. I thought people had held back and been stingy.

I got on my prophetic horse and wrote a letter to the congregation that said, “You are stingy,” almost that blunt. Before I sent it, I told the Session, “I’ve prayed about this,” (that usually gets them on your side) “and I feel strongly about needing to say this,” and read the letter to them.

Silence.

One man said, “Don’t send that.” Another map said, “I’m disappointed that you would do that.” Voice by voice they told me not to send it.

I went home that night mad at the Session. Jan said, “Could it he they were listening to God more than you were?” It hadn’t occurred to me.

A week later I knew they were right, dead right. That wasn’t righteous, prophetic indignation. That was just my ego ticked because I thought I had a congregation in the palm of my hand, and they didn’t do what I wanted. The Session prevented me from doing a gross evil.

Leadership: You’re accountable to the Session, yet apparently you’re also accountable to your spiritual director. How do the two work together?

Peterson: My spiritual director holds me accountable not for my ministry but for myself, who I am.

The reason I have a spiritual director-I’ve had one for five years-is that I got scared to death of myself. I saw my capacity for self-deception. Then I looked around and saw colleagues who were just as bad, but they weren’t doing anything about it. I thought, I’ve got to do something. I went looking, praying, searching. In my denominational structure, we have administrators, but we don’t have bishops to oversee our lives.

Leadership: In selecting people to hold you accountable, isn’t it a temptation to choose people who see things your way?

Swindoll: Absolutely. I love yeses. I don’t like a group of squint-eyed board members who always say, “You’re out to lunch.” But I need people like the layman who leaned over my desk several years ago. He’s a raw-boned construction guy, and he looked right into my eyes and said, “Swindoll, do you have anybody to lean across this desk, look you right in the eye, and say, ‘B.S.!’?” (Only he didn’t say “B.S.”)

“Yeah,” I said, “I’ve got several.”

“Good,” he said. “I see our rapid growth, and I get real scared that you can get alone in this office and start believing your own stuff.” That was probably one of the best things I could have heard. He did it in the right way: he didn’t bring in anybody else, he volunteered to help, and he’s not the type to burst in regularly. I needed to hear that. I still do.

Carlson: That kind of person keeps us from one of the dangers of leadership of any kind: it’s easy to begin to say what we think people want to hear.

Peterson: One thing people want is purity and integrity. The problem is when we try to reach that in some area and realize we can’t. Then we fake it for the sake of the congregation. I think Luther was right when he said, “Sin boldly.” Don’t fake it. You’re a sinner; be a sinner. Let people know you’re a sinner.

Swindoll: Can a congregation handle that? I agree with Luther, and I’ve occasionally preached that, but I don’t know of a congregation that can handle my sinning boldly. Could you imagine going into the pulpit and saying, “I want you to know last week I was full of lust”? The reaction would be, “Whoa! You’re supposed to be a model! Do you know what you’re suggesting to my teenager?” It’s tough to know how to be open yet not scandalize.

I think you can be so vulnerable that you overexpose your dark areas too often to the wrong group. I have a very small group that I voluntarily expose my inner being to, but it’s because a trust has been built over the years.

Leadership: Ray and Don, how do you view accountability from the denominational side?

Carlson: The key to any kind of accountability is the spirit behind it. Those of us in charismatic circles have seen firsthand the “shepherding” movement and how that has created more problems and drained people’s spiritual life and power. In the extremes of the shepherding concept, people cannot do anything unless they discuss the matter with their shepherd. As a result, some shepherds began to investigate every detail of their lives, including the intimacies of married life. I am aware of instances where marriages have been destroyed by this.

Swindoll: It’s a religious Gestapo.

Carlson: That’s right. It begins with the right motive, but people take it to the extreme.

In the Assemblies of God we believe our minister should be accountable not only as you men have described, but also to his organization.

Njaa: Our denomination does have bishops-we call them conference superintendents-and their primary function is to be pastor to pastors.

There’s also a national board of ministry, whose only function is to take care of ministers, and regional committees on ministerial standing. If a minister is sliding, it’s the responsibility of that pastor’s pastor or the regional committee.

Then I’m minister to the whole bunch, which is impossible, so I’m in touch only with the hot spots. But the point is that if someone is in anguish, there is a denominational system to help.

Those are the denominational structures for accountability. Equally important is accountability to peers-people you’re with on a regular basis who have enough guts to tell you when you’re out of line. Otherwise, all these other structures may come into action too late.

Carlson: Isolation is deadly. We find that for the most part, ministers who come under discipline have gotten isolated.

Leadership: As you think about pastoral integrity, what gives you hope?

Swindoll: I gain hope as I think about the benefits that come from living a life of integrity. One payoff is a congregation that loves you and trusts you.

Njaa: I find hope in the gospel that Christ’s death on the cross can redeem us all. God can use us all. I always want to hold up that principle. What we preach is true for Christian leaders.

Pastors

“BUT I’M AN EXCEPTION!”

Bill Hybels

One evening I stopped by the church just to encourage those who were there rehearsing for the spring musical. I didn’t intend to stay long, so I parked my car next to the entrance. After a few minutes, I ran back to my car and drove home.

The next morning I found a note in my office mailbox. It read: A small thing, but Tuesday night when you came to rehearsal, you parked in the “No Parking” area. A reaction from one of my crew (who did not recognize you until after you got out of the car) was, “There’s another jerk parking in the ‘No Parking’ area!” We try hard not to allow people-even workers-to park anywhere other than the parking lots. I would appreciate your cooperation, too. It was signed by a member of our maintenance staff.

I’m sorry to report this staff member is no longer with us. He was late coming back for lunch the next day, and we had to let him go. You have to draw the line somewhere . . .

No, I’m kidding. Actually he’s still very much with us, and his stock went up in my book because he had the courage to write me about what could have been a slippage in my character.

And he was right on the mark. As I drove up that night, I had thought, I shouldn’t park here, but after all, I am the pastor. That translates: I’m an exception to the rules. But that employee wouldn’t allow me to sneak down the road labeled “I’m an exception.”

I’m not the exception to church rules, nor am I the exception to sexual rules or financial rules or any of God’s rules. As a leader, I am not an exception; I’m to be the example. According to Scripture, I am to live in such a way that I can say, “Follow me. Park where I park. Live as I live.”

That’s why we all need people like my staff member to hold us accountable in even the small matters. Because when we keep the minor matters in line, we don’t stumble over the larger ones.

Just when I was starting to think, I’m an exception, somebody on our staff cared enough to say, “Don’t do it, Bill, not even in one small area.” That’s love.

-Bill Hybels

Willow Creek Community Church

South Barrington, Illinois

Leadership Spring 1988 p. 37

- More from Bill Hybels

Pastors

What I Can and Can’t Discuss at Home

Michael E. Phillips

Candor and compassion may lead in different directions.

Shot of a relaxed couple enjoying the day at home together

My brother David, age seven, and I, age eight, were figuring ways of getting more money so we could keep up with the status quo in baseball cards. We had noticed that Cub Scouts raised money by collecting pop bottles. In our enthusiasm, we reasoned that newspapers were more plentiful than bottles and would net us a higher return.

As we began to canvass the neighborhood for papers, the response was astounding. People were overjoyed to contribute to our cause. At some houses we were given so many newspapers that we had to empty our wagons in the garage before we could go to the next house. The papers piled up like so many stacks of cash.

After a full morning, we had enough newspapers to cover half the floor space of the garage to a height of three feet. We didn't want to be greedy, so we quickly found other things to do, waiting for Dad to come home to help us exchange the newspapers for hard cash.

And sure enough, Dad came home.

The fun began when he bashed the Pontiac into Mount Gazette, which nearly toppled his workbench with a loud rattle. That was the first of many loud noises, most of which came from Dad, especially after we discovered there was no recycling center anywhere near our house. After a half-hour dressing down, the issue came around to one question: what do we do about the newspapers?

Mom suggested we take them back; Dad agreed. We marched up to each house-we with our sullen faces, Dad with his notebook for taking return orders. Somehow we weren't surprised that almost every person denied knowing us, even in the face of Dad's colorful reminders. One sweet woman, who had given us several loads, did accept one wagon load. That was the extent of the newspaper redistribution.

I learned a lesson that day: Not everything is worth bringing home. And once there, things can be mighty hard to send back.

Imagine a pastor's wife lying awake in bed. Her husband is at a board meeting, and it's getting to be the normal time of adjournment. She listens for the screen door. If it closes with a slight wisp, the meeting went well, and all will sleep soundly. If the door slams, her husband has taken a beating and will tell her all about it that night.

She hears the door slam shut. He comes to bed and replays the entire meeting, not missing a thing. He feels frustrated and betrayed. She prays for him, and he goes right to sleep. She doesn't. In the next few days, her husband will work things out emotionally. However, for months she will bear the burden of some of the things he told her.

Not a pretty picture, yet all too common. Christian marriage counselors have been talking for years about the value of open, honest communication between husbands and wives. But there are also potential dangers in openness.

Admittedly, I have a narrow perspective on the subject. What I am careful not to bring home to my wife may be easy for other spouses to handle. The reverse may also be true: what I bring home to my loving mate may take to your marriage like dogs to cats. I also recognize that what I am going to say may not apply equally well to female leaders, since their mates may react differently. What a single person in church leadership says to friends and family must be thought through as well. But my problem is deciding what to bring home to my wife in order to prevent having to try to take difficult things back. Perhaps these thoughts will aid you in your own unique situation.

What I Tell My Wife

Let me begin by summarizing what my wife does hear about: almost everything that goes on in my life. From the seedling thoughts of a sermon series to the interesting details of a half dozen home visits, my wife shares my day. She relishes the high points, looks appropriately concerned over the troubled moments, and adds her observations whenever she feels it's proper. The same scenario holds true in most pastors' homes.

Therefore, it may seem superfluous to discuss what I bring home to my wife. Why not go right to discussing the danger areas? For the same reason that good theology recognizes a distinction between sins of omission and sins of commission: what I don't say may cause as much harm as what I say inadvisedly. Or to paraphrase a famous prayer of confession, "I have said what I ought not to have said and have left unsaid the things I ought to have said."

It may be just as harmful to neglect telling my wife certain things as it is to enter the area of dangerous subjects. Accordingly, let me point out two subjects I am always prepared to discuss.

Difficult Decisions

Every so often, my wife and I celebrate "Want Ads Day." It's an event that is cherished by neither of us but demands dual participation. At regular intervals, the pressure of pastoral responsibilities convinces me there must be a softer wall to beat my head against. Therefore, I tell my wife that we are going to look through the classified ads to see what other job I could pursue. Kathy's role is to convince me I really don't want to do anything else. But she has to be subtle; I feel I'm facing a tough decision.

At the end of this madness, we fold the paper, and then my wife asks me what's getting under my skin. Usually, I'm trying to decide if God is calling me to adjust my ministry, or even to change the location. It's always a difficult decision, so I share it with the one who would be directly affected by it.

Life throws up difficult decisions the way a plow digs up rocks. They seem to be always there, always annoying, and always tricky to handle by yourself.

Several months ago, I became concerned that most of the elders were not attending prayer meeting. I decided to confront the issue at the next board meeting by proposing changes in the format of the prayer time, lecturing the board, and soliciting their attendance on Wednesday nights.

With glee, I described my plan to Kathy at dinner. Her face soured, and she motioned that I should follow her to the family room. There she came right to the point: "Do you really want a prayer meeting full of guilty, shamed elders? Maybe they all have good reasons for not being there." She then left, leaving me to my decision.

I knew instantly that she was right. The beauty of her intimate counsel is that it combined objective integrity with conjugal caring. She knew me and she knew my board. And because she wasn't directly involved, she saw the problem with greater discernment than I did.

In his autobiography, The Man Who Could Do No Wrong, Charles Blair looked back on the financially troubled project that caused him the most grief as a pastor and concluded that he could have sidestepped the whole mess if he had paid attention to his wife's impressions. I have resolved in my mind not to waste this natural resource known as my wife's opinion.

Points of Growth

The movie Ishtar centers on two would-be songwriters. The opening scene sets the stage both theatrically and philosophically: they are writing a song about truth. After hours of effort, they come up with the first four lines:

Telling the truth is dangerous business.

Honest and popular don't go hand in hand.

If you tell everyone you play the accordion,

You'll never get a job in a rock and roll band.

It's putrid poetry and faulty philosophy, but it's a philosophy we often embrace. In my ministry, I take great pains to be transparently honest, showing the congregation that I'm flesh and blood, failing and burdened. I believe it has been effective in that people accept the Word of God from their sinner-pastor with a belief that if I can live it, so can they. Over the years, I have found it progressively easier to discuss intimate failures and personal points of growth.

Yet it is so hard to do the same with my wife. She even remarked to me a few years ago that if she wanted to find out what God is teaching me, she would have to pay closer attention to my sermons. It's amazing how I am an embodiment of Ishtar philosophy. I actually believed that in my marriage, honest and popular don't go hand in hand.

It's part of human nature to fear pain from our most intimate relationships. But it's part of good mental health to overcome that part of human nature.

The other night, just prior to our anniversary, we were talking about the positive changes we have seen in one another. I decided at that point of camaraderie to reveal a deep, dark side of me. I told her she was changing me. Her interest piqued, she requested I tell her more. So I began to recite some incidents in which I had mistreated the women I had dated. However, when I first met my wife, I knew she was special, for she demanded that I respect her. She never said this in so many words, but she demanded it through every nuance of her personality.

That night, I let her know God was, through her, changing my actions, not only toward her, but toward everyone else as well.

Since that night, she has been acutely aware of this side of me. As a result, she lovingly warns me when I start slipping into my old disrespectful patterns. It's like having a dual conscience, sort of a branch office of the soul.

A caution: it's essential to understand our problems prior to laying them out before anyone else. We need to be sure we can describe things accurately before we alarm our loved ones. Can you imagine a company's telling its stockholders every conceivable problem in the firm? The stock would be worth zero, even if the company had very little the matter with it.

Before a recent board retreat, I sensed some tension building between several church members and myself. As I spent time in prayer, I developed a growing sense of my own shortcomings. The evening before the retreat, I felt like telling my wife all I was feeling. But because I wasn't sure, I left things unsaid for the time being.

I'm so glad I did; it saved a lot of backtracking.

At the weekend time together, I brought up my concern. The board agreed with some aspects, but not with others. The personality flaw I had noticed was real, but it wasn't the whole story. I was enlightened and relieved as we ended the weekend. I was corrected and ready to fight with more fervor against the Enemy's schemes. That Saturday night, after getting a better perspective, I discussed my problem with Kathy, enlisting her to help me cope. She has done so with gladness and strength.

What I Don't Tell My Wife

At times, however, it's best for both of us if I keep my mouth shut. I no longer point out ring around the collar or another woman wearing the same dress as hers. This kind of tongue restraint is simply what I call "peace in the parsonage." Everyone's list will contain a different assortment of no-nos.

There are also aspects of my calling that my wife is not called to bear. God lays upon each person a different yoke. Let me describe the line I draw between unwise conversation and callous clamming up.

Others’ Attacks on Me

I once asked my wife to describe the one thing I had told her that was harder to handle than any other. Without hesitation she said, "The letters you showed me last fall."

The previous autumn, I had received a series of nasty notes from a former member of our congregation. Clothed as prophetic words, they were vindictive slanders and generally throw-away advice. After a while, they were laughable. Without thinking, I showed them to Kathy one night. It took her a long time to go to sleep that evening. All she could think about was the dirt this person had thrown my way.

She was much more upset than I was. Her protective feelings were creating a whirlwind of emotions, alternating between bitterness and anger. Thus I learned that it's a major mistake for us to unload second-hand attacks on our wives.

What I do now with a situation like that is simple. If I have to tell someone, I tell my prayer partner. He's a good friend, has broad shoulders, and never gets upset at attacks on me. He thought the letters were funny; he even got me laughing over them. Kathy still doesn't laugh when she sees the letter writer and his wife downtown. She has, however, worked her facial muscles up to a smile, bless her protective heart!

My Attacks on Others

"Blondie" continues as one of my favorite comic strips. In one memorable scene, the Woodleys from next door are visiting Dagwood and Blondie. While the wives are in the kitchen, Herb and Dagwood get into a shouting match over a forgotten debt. The wives come out to break up the fight. The men settle down until several minutes later, when they hear the women fighting in the kitchen over the same debt. Dagwood breaks them up and states with pontifical pride, "You women are always fighting over meaningless things."

When one person in a family lets off steam, pressure begins to build up in those who are listening, especially in a pastor's home, where spiritual warfare is unusually intense. Inevitably, I will have opinions on various members of the flock I pastor, some of them negative at times. This doesn't mean I don't love them and desire the best for them, and God is able to adjust my opinions in the course of time, too. But if I voice my personal misgivings about others to my wife or children, I no longer have any control over what those careless words will produce. Understand that my wife is not a gossip and is certainly not vindictive. My comments will taint her viewpoint, however, even if only slightly.

Several years ago, we had a young Sunday school superintendent who I felt was not getting the job done. I told my wife about his mistakes, and I told her on numerous occasions how upset I was with him. Finally, God convicted me of being the one in the wrong, for I had not spent any time praying for and training the man. As I rectified this, he showed smooth progress in his ministry.

My wife was not aware of this turnaround, however, and I noticed over a year later that she still had a critical attitude toward the man. The blame lay firmly on my shoulders. I apologized to her and asked her to forgive me for tainting this young man in her eyes. I also vowed inwardly to keep my most vindictive vents of steam to myself.

Sensitive Issues

My college physics professor was a joy. It was common knowledge that if you asked him a question about black holes, even if it were only remotely connected to the topic at hand, he would wax eloquent on the subject, and the rest of the class would be history. We used to call him "Black Hole Rollie." We knew the topics that set him going.

In the same way, I know the kinds of discussions that set my wife's mind abuzzing. Each person, and each pastorate, has a different set of these terrible topics. For some of us, it may be learning of a church member's financial irresponsibility or doctrinal deviation. For others, hearing about even long-past sexual misconduct may create only unhealthy agitation. For still others, talking about how other people discipline their children gets the blood boiling.

So Kathy and I have discovered that there are some issues too sensitive to discuss—unless we've got a long, uninterrupted time together to fully process the topic together. Ours are so sensitive I'm not even going to tell you what they are. But you've likely discovered your sensitive issues when you uncover a topic that:

1. Contributes to obvious feelings of dis-ease in your spouse;

2. The two of you cannot constructively deal with;

3. You yourself feel uncomfortable discussing;

4. Leads to conversations whose long-term effect is only negative.

Unfortunately, it takes time and mistakes to discover what these "don't tell me" issues are-for yourself and for your spouse.

The "Blurt Threshold"

There is one other problem with regard to what I tell my wife. It's what I call the "blurt threshold." Our minds are like steaming pots, with a myriad of mumblings and grumblings boiling around inside. After days and days of stress and tension, the amount of information and emotions carried around can reach the boiling over, or blurt, point. That's when I blurt out the first thing I think of when I get home.

In other words, the things we have decided to put a lid on come spilling over the side anyway. In reality, I have said many things to my wife that have hurt her, made her uncomfortable, or left her feeling angry or frustrated. Each of these times I had already decided to say nothing about the matter, but it slipped over the edge of my brain.

I have only one solution for the blurt threshold: pray heavily before going home. It sounds super-spiritual, but it gives the Lord a chance to say which ideas will do the least harm if spilled.

Beyond that, recognize that you will inevitably say things you shouldn't. A recent United Press International report stated that surgeons in Northern Ireland have become leaders in the field of knee and foot surgery. It seems that a favorite tactic of the Irish Republican Army is to intimidate people by shooting them in the leg or foot. Thus, by necessity, the surgeons of that troubled land have gained a proficiency in treating leg wounds.

The only reason I can write about what to say and what not to say at home is that many times I have shot myself (and my wife) in the foot with verbal miscues. The medical regimen I have described here is the result of making many errors. But my wife, at least, doesn't have a garage full of newspapers or, if I screen what I bring home, a mind full of trash.

Michael E. Phillips is pastor of Lake Windermere Alliance Church, Invermere, British Columbia.

- More from Michael E. Phillips

Pastors

The Double Danger of Earthly Delights

John Calvin

If we are to live, we have to use those helps necessary for living. And we cannot avoid those things that seem to serve delight more than necessity. Therefore, we must hold to a standard so as to use them with a clear conscience.

By his Word, the Lord teaches that the present life is, for his people, like a pilgrimage on which they are hastening toward the heavenly kingdom. If we must pass through this world, there is no doubt we ought to use its good things insofar as they help rather than hinder our course. Thus Paul rightly persuades us to use this world as if not using it (1 Cor. 7:30, 31).

But because this topic is a slippery one and slopes on both sides into error, let us try to plant our feet where we may safely stand. There were some otherwise good and holy men who, when they saw intemperance and wantonness raging with unbridled excess, desired to correct this dangerous evil. One plan occurred to them: to use physical goods only insofar as necessity required. A godly counsel indeed, but they were far too severe. They fettered consciences more tightly than does the Word of the Lord-a very dangerous thing. To them necessity means to abstain from all things they could do without. To them, it would scarcely be permitted to add any food at all to plain bread and water.

On the other hand, many today seek an excuse for intemperance. In their licentious indulgence, they take for granted what I do not at all concede: that this freedom is not to be restrained by any limitation but is to be left to every man’s conscience.

Certainly I admit that consciences neither ought to nor can be bound here to definite and precise legal formulas. But inasmuch as Scripture gives general rules for lawful use, we ought surely to limit our use in accordance with them.

Keeping God’s purpose in mind

Let this be our principle: that we remember the end to which the Author himself created these gifts-for our good, not for our ruin.

If we ponder to what end God created food, we find that he meant not only to provide for necessity, but also for delight and good cheer. The purpose of clothing, apart from necessity, was comeliness and decency. In grasses, trees, and fruits, apart from their various uses, there is beauty of appearance and pleasantness of odor. Thus the prophet reckoned among the benefits of God, “wine that gladdens the heart of man, oil that makes his face shine” (Ps. 104:15). Away, then, with that inhuman philosophy that concedes only a necessary use of God’s creation and not only malignantly deprives us of the lawful fruit of God’s beneficence, but also cannot be practiced unless it robs a man of all his senses and degrades him to a block.

But no less diligently, we must resist the lust of the flesh. For unless it is kept in order, it overflows without measure. Its advocates, under the pretext of the freedom conceded by God, permit everything. One bridle is put upon it if we determine that all things were created for us so that we might recognize the Author and give thanks for his kindness toward us. Where is our thanksgiving if we so gorge ourselves that we become stupid or are rendered useless for the duties of piety and of our calling?

Aspiration to eternal life

There is no surer course than that we receive from contempt of the present life and meditation upon heavenly immortality. Two rules follow: those who use this world should be so affected as if they did not use it, as Paul enjoins. The other rule is that they should know how to bear poverty patiently, as well as how to bear abundance moderately.

Though the freedom of believers in external matters is not to be restricted to a fixed formula, yet it is surely subject to this law: to indulge oneself as little as possible, and to insist upon cutting off all show of superfluous wealth, not to mention licentiousness, and diligently to guard against turning helps into hindrances.

Those of slender resources should know how to go without things patiently, lest they be troubled by an immoderate desire for them. If they keep this rule, they will make considerable progress in the Lord’s school. Besides the fact that most other vices accompany the desire for earthly things, he who bears poverty impatiently will also, when in prosperity, commonly betray the contrary disease. He who is ashamed of mean clothing will boast of costly clothing if they fall to his lot. He who bears with a troubled mind his humble condition, will by no means abstain from arrogance if he be advanced to honors. To this end, then, let all those for whom the pursuit of piety is not a pretense strive to learn, by the apostle’s example, how to be filled and to hunger, to abound and to suffer want.

-John Calvin

- More from John Calvin

CT's Week of Giving

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Andrew the Apostle Visits Rus’-Ukraine, C. 50–60

The Baptism of Olga, C. 955

Vladimir’s Acceptance of Christianity and the Baptism of Kievan Rus’, C. 988

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In this series

The Praying, Retiring Ascetic

The Humble Prince-Challenger

The Scholar/Preacher

Biblical Echoes

The Brave Metropolitan

The Spiritual Prince

The Country-Saving Monk

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Moral but Not Ethical

The Value of a Code of Ethics

Foundational Principles

Principles of Pastoral Ethics

A Personal Responsibility

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What I Tell My Wife

Difficult Decisions

Points of Growth

What I Don't Tell My Wife

Others’ Attacks on Me

My Attacks on Others

Sensitive Issues

The "Blurt Threshold"

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Keeping God’s purpose in mind

Aspiration to eternal life

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