_PASTOR IN PARISH_ (i.).
_Master, to the flock I speed,
In Thy presence, in Thy name;
Show me how to guide, to feed,
How aright to cheer and blame;
With me knock at every door;
Enter with me, I implore._
We have talked together about the young Clergyman's secret life, and
private life, and his life in (so to speak) non-clerical intercourse
with others, and now lastly of his life as it stands related to his
immediate leader in the Ministry. In this latter topic we have already
touched the great matter which comes now at once before us, the man's
work amongst his neighbours as he approaches them in his proper
character, as a Pastor.
"THE PULSE OF THE MACHINE."
How shall I speak of "parish-work"? It would be a boundless subject if
treated in detail and in the style of a directory of methods. But such a
treatment is far from my purpose. To undertake it, I should not only
need to be a widely experienced Pastor, which I cannot claim to be, for
my life for many years has been mainly devoted to academic teaching; I
should need to be several widely experienced Pastors bound up into one
living volume. So let no one expect to find here a prescription for the
right plans and right practice of the many departments of the rural
pastorate, or of the urban, or suburban; directions how to organize
work, and how to develop it; how to deal with the Sunday School, or the
Day School, or the Institute, or the Guild, or the Visitors' Meeting, or
the Missionary Association. My hope is rather to get behind all these
things to the pulse of the busy machinery; to offer a few hints to my
younger Brethren "how to do it," from the point of view of their
personal and inner preparedness for the multifold work, and to state
some plain general principles which may run through all the doing.
VISITING.
I set before me then the Curate, and the Parish, with its demands for
pastoral labour, and particularly for _Visitation_. Well do I know how
immense the differences are between place and place in this same matter
of visitation; how the parish of a few hundreds, or even of two or
three thousand, is one thing, and the parish of ten, or eighteen, or
twenty thousand is another. I know that there are parishes, in London
for example, where all the efforts of a staff of devoted Clergy seem to
fail to do more than touch the edges of the work of domestic visitation.
Yet surely even in such cases that work must not, and will not, be quite
given up as hopeless. A little, where only a little is possible, is
vastly better than none; even if it be only the visitation of the sick,
and of those who immediately surround them, and with whom the sick-visit
gives the Clergyman an opportunity. Such efforts, where nothing more of
the kind is possible, if only done in an unmistakable spirit of love and
self-sacrifice, must carry good to the people. And do not forget that
they must, quite as necessarily, carry good to the Clergyman. For they
are a means, for which nothing else can be quite the substitute, of
bringing him into contact with the people's thoughts and lives in ways
which will tell usefully (as we have seen in an earlier page) upon his
whole ministry, particularly upon his work in the pulpit, and at the
mission-room desk, and in the open air.
But, to be as practical as possible, I will assume that the Curacy is of
a more normal kind than that just supposed. The parish, whether in
country or in town, is not so large as to make visitation from house to
house impossible. And the Curate has had his work of this kind assigned
him, and is setting out upon it. A good portion of every day (though I
hope it is possible to give a part of one day each week to some sort of
wisely managed holiday) is devoted to "the district"; now for a steady
round of calls, door by door; now, in an irregularity not without
method, for visits to special cases of sickness, or sorrow, or other
need.
PREPARE FOR VISITATION WITH PRAYER.
What shall be my first suggestion? It shall point to the Throne of
Grace. Preface the pastoral round with special secret prayer. Sermons
are usually (I wish it were always so now) prefaced with prayer in the
pulpit that the heavenly blessing may rest upon the ordinance. Is it
less fitting, less necessary, to prepare for the afternoon's or
evening's visitation with a secret petition in your own room that the
apostolic ordinance of domestic visitation [Acts xx. 20, 21.], to be
administered now by you, may have the special grace of God in it? Pray
for yourself, my younger Brother.
*PRAY FOR SPIRITUAL READINESS AND SPIRITUAL FULNESS.
Ask that you may go out well furnished with the peace, and patience, and
wisdom laid up for you in your Lord; that you may have "by the Holy
Spirit a right judgment in all things"; that you may have "the tongue of
the taught,[15] to speak a word in season to them that are weary";
whatever sort of weariness it is. Pray for that secret skill of
discernment which can see the difference of spiritual states, and allot
warning or comfort not at random but "in due season." Pray for that
readiness for the unexpected which is best secured and best maintained
in a close and conscious intimacy with your Saviour. The man "found in
Him" will be found ready _in spirit_ (and that is after all the
essential in spiritual work) for the sudden question, whether anxious or
captious, for the sudden rudeness of ignorance or opposition, and again
for the chronic and so to speak passive difficulty of indifference. "The
tongue of the taught," while the "taught" man is found in Christ, will
ever be sweet, wise, and truthful, as the owner of it goes his round.
But we must seek for it; "He will be enquired of for this thing." [SN:
Ezek. xxxvi. 37.]
[15] Isai. l. 4. Obviously the word "learned" in our Version is there
used in its old English sense, "instructed, taught." No slight on
"book-learning" is ever conveyed in the Scriptures. But the man in view
here is not the highly-educated person, but the believer who has
listened with _the ear_ "of the taught" (see the end of the verse), as a
disciple at the Master's feet; and so goes forth to speak with "_the
tongue_ of the taught," as a messenger who has learned sympathy,
insight, holy tact and truthfulness, from the Master's heart. The whole
passage is full of the blessed Messiah Himself, I know. But it has its
reflected reference for all His true followers, and above all for all
His true Ministers. May He give us, in His mercy, for every act of our
messenger-work, both the ear and the tongue of His "taught" ones.
Then, as you pray for yourself, you will pray also for the people you
are about to visit. Perhaps they are as yet strange to you, and you can
ask for them only in general. But if you know anything at all about them
it will be worth while to individualize your prayer, however briefly.
Special, detailed prayer _is_ a power with God. And it is a power with
man too. To be dealing with one for whom you know you have prayed is
already to have a foothold there. Perhaps you may have an opportunity to
_say_, quite naturally, that you have been praying for him; and this may
very possibly be a direct vehicle of blessing.
You will go out then, as directly as possible, from the secret place of
heavenly intercourse. That is a bracing atmosphere:
"Fresh airs and heavenly odours breathe around
The throne of grace;"
and those airs can quicken the young Pastor's spirit for the heaviest
hours of a sultry afternoon or evening, till he comes back weary to his
rooms, "tired in the Lord's work, but not tired of it," as dying
Whitefield said.
So you go forth with real prayer. It is your wonderful privilege, thus
going to carry nothing less than the blessed "Fulness of the Holy Ghost"
for your inmost equipment. I say deliberately, nothing less than the
heavenly Fulness--a far different thing from a mere stir and lift of the
emotions. That most divine gift is a "calm excess" of tranquil power,
received humbly by the prayer of faith. It is not meant to be a rare
luxury; it is a daily and hourly offer, a provided _viaticum_ for every
stage of walk and duty. Can we work aright for God while any corner of
our being has no room for God, and is not possessed by Him?
METHOD.
Then, for true prayer and true practicality are the closest and most
harmonious friends, you will of course aim with forethought and
persistency at _method_ in the pastoral work. The visits will be
arranged as far as possible with economy of _space_; no difficult task
in most town parishes, while in the country, of course, the matter is
often much less easy. And you will study also economy of _time_. Your
round is a work of sacred _business_. The minutes, the quarters of an
hour, are never to run loose and unobserved. Who that has ever visited
in a parish does not know the need of remembering that point, so easily
forgotten? Here we visit a pleasant, welcoming neighbour, and it is all
too easy to stay on, perhaps to little real purpose, with the secret
satisfaction of knowing that the next and much less attractive call must
be shortened in proportion. Here, less willingly, we are detained by
one of those ingenious tongues which make it so difficult to get in a
word, or to stop the unprofitable continuity of topics. All these cases,
and endless kindred ones, need a little foresight and firmness, and a
little of the skill which is soon learnt by open heart and open eyes.
ECONOMY OF TIME.
Obviously this line of caution is more needed by some men than by
others. But it is needed by not a few; particularly in respect of the
temptation to lengthen out unduly the visits that are pleasant to the
visitor. One young Clergyman known to me, an indefatigable and devoted
visitor, needed a strong reminder in this direction in the early days of
his ministry. He would visit a sick person, who proved more or less
responsive to his efforts, and would allow himself to _over_-visit, to
an unwise extent, going often more than once a day, and long after the
state of the invalid made such attentions urgent. And other work of
course suffered in proportion. Wesley's precept to his workers needs our
remembrance often; "Go not where you are wanted, but where you are
wanted most."
BUT AVOID HURRY.
But a risk on the other hand must be remembered. Economy of time must
never mean hurry of manner, a thing which is nearly if not quite fatal
to the usefulness of a visit. It is perfectly possible to combine
promptitude with quiet; to come manifestly on business, and yet not in a
bustle. We Clergymen may learn many valuable lessons in this, as in some
other parts of our work, from our medical friends. Observe how a wise
and kindly doctor visits _his_ parishioners. He knows exactly why he
comes; he knows that other patients are wanting him, in long succession;
he knows that he must observe and advise as promptly and as much to the
point as possible; and he knows that all must be done with a quiet,
strong, untroubled manner, if it is to be done aright.
I spoke in a previous chapter about the sacred duty of watching and
regulating manner. This is to be done at all times of intercourse, but
above all in pastoral visits. To speak only of this point of hurry or
calm of manner; it is most important. The right manner will make a visit
of five minutes practically longer than a twenty minutes' visit which
gives all through it the impression that the Clergyman must be off. One
of the most admirable Pastors I have ever known, the late Rev. Charles
Clayton, of Cambridge,[16] did much of his work by five-minute visits.
But they were always visits in which the whole thought was given to the
case before him, and the word in season came from full knowledge of his
flock and from an unmistakably pastoral heart.
[16] Afterwards Rector of Stanhope and Canon of Ripon.
IMPARTIAL COURTESY.
A duty which you will carefully remember throughout your round is that
of quiet Christian courtesy; impartially shown to rich, to middling, and
to poor. I say impartially, with a view to _both_ ends of the scale.
Some men (perhaps not many, but some) seem to think that ministerial
courage and fidelity in dealing with well-to-do parishioners demand a
certain dropping of the courtesies of life; a very great mistake. Many
more men are tempted to forget that their visits to the poorest should
be, in the essence of the matter, as courteous as when they go to the
portal which carries a brass knocker. At the door of the dingiest
cottage, or dingier lodging, never forget that you _ask_ for entrance;
it is your neighbour's castle-door; and you are not a sanitary
inspector. If you happen to come in at the meal-time of the roughest and
dirtiest, apologize as naturally and honestly as you would if you
intruded on the wealthy churchwarden's well-set luncheon. Among the very
lowest, do all you can to honour parents before their children (I know
it is nearly impossible in some sad cases); and always honour old age.
BE NATURAL.
Surely one good maxim on manner with our poorer neighbours is to aim to
address them very much as we would address our neighbours of our own
class. A patronizing manner is most certainly a very great pity, and
almost sure to be resented. But so, too, is the ostentatious
"hail-and-well-met" manner which is sometimes assumed; an over-drawn
imitation, perhaps, of the workman's manner with his fellows. This is a
mistake, because it is almost always unnatural. Few gentlemen get better
at others by ceasing to act and speak as gentlemen. Let us talk quite
quietly and pleasantly, as just what we are, and as those who most
unaffectedly "honour all men," [1 Pet. ii. 17.] and we shall not go far
astray; always supposing that the matter of our talk is sensible, true,
and to the purpose.
THE SICK-ROOM.
To turn aside for a moment to the special and sacred work of Visitation
of the Sick. It is not to be lightly done, as if it were an easy part of
our duty, quite obvious in its aims and methods. The greatest judgment
is often needed in the sick-room. We need quickness to perceive how much
conversation the invalid can bear, if the case is one of great pain, or
(what often makes undue length even more irksome) great weakness. We
need an insight into the best side of approach to conscience, or to
will. We need the skill which knows how to question enough, but not too
much, not as the inquisitor but as the helper. Many another matter will
call for sanctified common-sense in the sick-room; a restful _voice_,
easy, quiet _movements_, and the like. And let me say that where you are
visiting a chronic case, and need to call again and again, if a day and
hour for the next visit is mentioned it should be _kept to_ with
jealous punctuality. Nothing is more trying to the suffering and weary
than uncertainty and suspense. I have known of much harm done to good
men's influence by their neglect of punctuality with sick people.
PUNCTUALITY.
Of punctuality generally I can (and surely need) speak only in passing.
It is a primary duty of the busy but patient work of the pastorate. To
be neglectful of it is to set up and keep up a needless and mischievous
friction in our intercourse with others, and indefinitely to injure our
influence in many ways. "No man ever waited five minutes for me in my
life, unless for reasons quite beyond my power;" such was a remark of
Charles Simeon's in his last days. _We_ may be for ever unable to say
this of our own past. But if so, shall it not be true for us also _from
this day forward_?
USE OF THE BIBLE IN VISITING.
Thus prepared by secret and special intercourse with God, and
recollecting some simple maxims about practical points, you go out into
the parish. But no; let me suggest one other preliminary, which, before
most rounds of pastoral visiting, cannot be out of place. You will take
in your pocket _two books_, if not more; one, your visiting register and
diary, the other--your Bible. Of the use to be made of the note-book I
need not speak. About that to be made of the Book of God let me say a
very few words.
I do not mean at all that you will make the reading of the Holy
Scriptures a matter of form or routine; a thing which _must_ be done, as
an _opus operandum_, wherever there is a chance. But I do mean that you
should have the Book always ready for use, and be prompt to sow the
"incorruptible seed" [1 Pet. i. 23.] from house to house as God gives
opportunity. Remember, it is a Book sadly little known by the very large
majority of your people; so that every natural and naturally-taken
occasion to "let it speak," in private as well as in public, is a
contribution to that urgent need of our modern world, Bible-knowledge.
Remember again that, despite all the wretched unsettlements of belief
amongst us, the Bible is still the Bible, for untold multitudes; it is
owned by them, whether or no it is used, as the Oracle of God. Let us
let the Book speak at the open ear of such a conviction, however dimly
the conviction is entertained. And then remember that the Bible,
whatever be the state of current opinion about it, _is_ as a fact the
Oracle of God, and its immortal and life-conveying words have a
mysterious fitness all their own to be the vehicle of the Spirit's voice
to the human heart. Offer it, as often as you can, to be that vehicle.
CHOOSE A PASSAGE BEFOREHAND.
Two simple expedients for effective use of the Scriptures in a parish
round are presented to me by my own past experience, gathered from
several years of regular parochial work. One is, the choice of some
short pregnant passage which shall be, for that round, _the_ passage to
be read not once only but in house after house, unless, of course, there
is special reason to the contrary. Such a reiteration, so I have often
found, is a great help to the visitor, who probably feels on each new
occasion that a new power and point appear in the passage, and that it
seems each time easier to speak from it, however briefly, to the soul.
The other expedient which my experience recommends is to be prepared,
whenever a hopeful opportunity occurs, to leave a Scripture message
visibly behind you as you go. I used to carry with me a little sheaf of
slips of paper, on each of which was printed the request, _Please read
this passage, and think about it_. A short message from the heavenly
Word would be written on the slip in pencil as I was about to go; and
this visible and personal invitation to "read and think" proved often a
real remembrance from the Lord.
THE VISITING PASTOR AT WORK.
But now you are actively engaged from door to door. If you are a
new-comer, and particularly if it is also a district (in the great City
perhaps) where visitation has been an unwonted thing, you must be
prepared of course for very various sorts of reception. But assuredly in
most districts by far, and at most doors, the man who exercises common
tact and courtesy, and is plainly trying to do his duty in a loving and
earnest spirit, and is known already, or now introduces himself, as the
Clergyman, will be civilly and often gladly met.
*OUR ADVANTAGE AS MINISTERS OF THE ENGLISH CHURCH.
Let me pause for a moment to remind you of one great and valuable
advantage which is ours as the Ministers of the National Church and the
servants of the parochial system. All honour to devoted servants of God
in the Ministry of other denominations; in numberless instances they
have done in the past, and are doing now, work which the National Church
has either neglected, or has been unable to overtake; and the power of
the Lord has been and is present with them to bless. But nevertheless I
for one thank God for a National Church, and recognize in that Church's
historical and practical position a unique opportunity and an immense
advantage, so it be used faithfully and in loyalty to the Lord and His
Word. And one feature of that position of opportunity is this, that it
is the popularly (and rightly) recognized _duty_ of the Church of
England Clergyman to ask admission at every door, so far as he can go to
every door, within his portion of the national vineyard. To a large
degree this is understood to be our duty, our business, as it is not
understood to be that of other Ministers of religion; and this is a fact
which for the man who will use it with good sense and unobtrusive
diligence is an invaluable introduction. A "younger Brother" of my own,
whose work began in a Liverpool Curacy, told me of his experience in
this matter. His district contained a very miscellaneous population;
almost all the great dissenting Churches were represented, and there
were many Roman Catholics, and not a few Jews. But the Curate went to
every door, as in duty bound; as a friend, a neighbour, a Christian, but
distinctly as one of the Clergy of the parish. And with one solitary
exception, an instance in which a Jew repulsed him, he was not only
admitted but welcomed everywhere in his character as the Clergyman.
Of course there are, as I have said just above, streets and lanes where
it is not quite so. Another friend of mine, labouring in East London,
found that his black coat and white tie suggested to some of the people
only the guess that he was--the undertaker; so strange to them was the
presence of a Clergyman, or the idea of his duty. The same friend, by
the way, found that there was one sure prescription for securing a
welcome on a second visit--to make the people _laugh_ before the first
visit was over. He was no careless Pastor, who forgot that he was in
quest of souls, and that the message of the Lord is no jest. But his
experience was that in that strange "lapsed" population the _rapport_
between man and man set up by an honest laugh was important as the first
step to something very different which was to follow.
COME TO THE POINT.
In the ordinary pastoral round no such ingenious merriment will be
necessary; though you will of course aim not only to be but to be seen
to be _happy_ in your work, and in your Master; _bright_ with a light
which is as natural in its influence as it is divine in its origin. In
the ordinary round one great principle to be remembered, if I am right,
is that you should _come to the point_ as soon as possible. Some earnest
men greatly shrink from this, and aim at the souls of their people by
very circuitous routes. As a rule, I am sure, there is little need to do
so; we are "expected" to be about our Master's business, and to deliver
His messages without needless delay. I would not counsel the general
verbal adoption of one good country Parson's salutation, who always
opened the cottage door with, "_How are you? How is your soul?_" But I
have no doubt it was a good greeting for many a parishioner of his; and
the _principle_ of it is good for almost every pastoral visit. Yes, we
shall do well to take people very much for granted, coming before them
as we do (unless we quite forget our true character) as the Lord Jesus
Christ's messengers and delegates, whatever else we are.
KEEP IT ALWAYS IN VIEW.
Most certainly and obviously the Pastor will often allude to common
human interests, and should indeed know something and have something to
say and do about temporal problems, things of body and estate. But then
I do hold that he should "draw all things this" supremely important
"way." All his pastoral intercourse should bear somehow upon the
question of the state before God of the person or persons visited; upon
conviction of sin, or comfort in grace, or Christian conduct; upon
Christ and the soul, upon holiness and immortality, as the Gospel
"brings them out into the light." [2 Tim. i. 10.]
A DIFFICULT CASE WELL MET.
There are cases most certainly where this has to be done with peculiar
tact and caution unless quite obvious mischief is to be done instead of
good. But let the man be always _lying in wait_, and he will very seldom
do so quite in vain. An instance occurs to me, in the work of a most
honoured veteran in the Ministry. He called on a new parishioner, a lady
of his own class, and soon found out that she was politely but
resolutely arranging to keep Jesus Christ out of the conversation; so
cleverly that he fairly failed to break the fence. Just as he was
leaving, for he could not go without one mention of his Master, he said,
as the last word of his courteous farewell, "_The Lord bless you_." That
was all; but it was enough to carry in it the Spirit's message. The
utterance stayed in the parishioner's soul, sounding solemnly on. It was
impossible to be offended; it was impossible not to think. And the issue
was, in God's time, a real and deep conversion.
A HAPPY REBUKE TO COWARDICE.
But, I repeat it, such difficulties in "the daily round" need not be
very frequent, if we do not create them for ourselves. How often the
very persons to whom we think it wiser not to speak openly about the
Lord Jesus Christ (remember, it is about HIM, even more than about
themselves, we are to speak) are longing to hear us do so! In the early
days of my ordination I remember visiting an invalid gentleman, who had
known me (for it was my Father's parish) all my life; and I was very
cowardly in his case about coming to the point of Christ and the soul.
Several visits, let me confess it with shame, were paid before I found
myself able to propose that we should open the Bible together, and then
pray. I was moved to the inmost heart by the actual tears of delight
with which the proposal was welcomed.
And not seldom, if we do not come to the point, our people will bring us
to it. A very dear friend of mine, a few years ago, was going his first
circuits in a large London parish, and paid one among many first visits.
He allowed it to be a mere visit of introductory civilities; but he need
not have been so cautious. As he rose to go the good woman on whom he
had called said to him, "You will have a word of prayer with me, will
you not? The Vicar always does."
"_Go, labour on, spend and be spent;
Thy joy to do the Father's will;
It is the way the Master went;
Should not the servant tread it still?_
"_Go, labour on while it is day,
The world's dark night is hastening on;
Speed, speed thy work, cast sloth away;
It is not thus that souls are won._"
BONAR.