Eswine, Zack. The Imperfect Pastor. Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2015. 274 pages.
Reviewed by Brett McNeill (Pastor at Reformation OPC, Olympia, WA).
It feels like the call to do something “great” for God is everywhere around us. I recently heard a critique of a sermon because it made no call for young men to do great things for God. I heard something similar again last weekend at a concert. This is the spirit of the age, the air we breathe—it’s everywhere, and we’re constantly being bombarded with it.
I’m reminded of Mr. Holland’s Opus, a movie from the mid-nineties with Richard Dreyfuss. It tells the story of Glenn Holland (Dreyfuss), an educated composer, who takes a job teaching music at a local high school to pay the bills while he works on his great symphony, which he is sure will be his magnum opus. Over the next three decades, the drudgery of everyday life leaves little time to write his symphony. Along the way, however, he touches lives, inspires students and, as he retires, they come back to say, “thank you.” He feels like he never accomplished his goal, never wrote his opus, until someone points at all the lives he touched and tells him, “This is your opus.”
I know it’s just a movie, but there’s something powerful in its message, something I need to hear (more than once). The reality is I want to do “great things for God.” If I’m honest, I really want to do great things for myself. I want to be a great preacher, to be known, revered, admired, and remembered. I don’t like that this is true, but I can hardly deny it. Judging from the sheer volume of blogs, podcasts, YouTube channels, and social media personalities, I don’t think I’m alone. Talking to young candidates for ministry, it seems harder to find one who doesn’t have an internet presence than one who does. Why is this? Why are we turning ourselves into brands?
Zack Eswine has a theory, and I think he’s hit the nail on the head. In his book The Imperfect Pastor (a condensed and updated version of his earlier Sensing Jesus), he puts his finger on the idols that tempt all pastors. Discontent to be image-bearers, we fall into the trap of wanting to be “like God.” This is what Satan told Adam and Eve they could achieve, and he hasn’t stopped whispering the same lie since. The three pastoral idols Eswine identifies are to be 1) omnipresent (be everywhere for everyone), 2) omnipotent (fix everyone’s problems), and 3) omniscient (know everything).
When we fall into the trap of thinking that we must be everywhere, fix everything, and know everything, we do three things. First, we burn ourselves out doing things God has never called us to do. Second, we teach our congregations to look to us as their savior, not to Jesus. Third, we will inevitably feel like failures at some point, even if we never achieve an impossible goal.
It’s into this idolatrous reality that Eswine invites pastors to redefine “greatness.” He argues that Jesus isn’t looking for celebrities with household names, but servants who delight in caring for the hurting and afflicted. To do that, we need to understand the actual goal to which pastors are called. We need honesty with the brokenness in our own lives and hearts. We need to be in awe of who God is, not how well-known we are, how many followers we have, or how many books we have written. We need to learn to slow down and be content with gradual, steady growth. We
need to stop trying to shepherd the world (or the internet) and shepherd the people the Lord has brought into our lives.
Maybe there’s a bit of Mr. Holland in each of us. Maybe touching the local people in our congregations with the love of Christ is the great thing we are called to do. Maybe the only one who will see that great work is Jesus. Can we be content with that? If that’s your heart’s desire, I can’t recommend The Imperfect Pastor enough. I pray it blesses you as it has blessed me.