Sacred trusts refer to any fundamental ethical obligation pastors owe to the Church. Usually, these sacred trusts cluster around three distinct, though in our culture often interrelated, areas: Power, money and sex. I say "interrelated" because in the classical wisdom about church leaders, these three tend to bring out the worst in us. For that reason, reform movements like medieval monasticism developed "rules" -- ways of structuring lives together -- that made folks responsible in all three areas. Just think the vows of obedience (power), poverty (money) and chastity (sex). And in my own experience as a pastor, I see that wisdom affirmed again and again.
All Christians are called to ministry in our baptism (following Jesus' pattern in the Gospels). The gift of ministry comes from God -- we are co-laborers with him through Jesus (1 Corinthians 3.9; 2 Corinthians 6.1). The task of Jesus' ministry is therefore entrusted to all the baptized.
In baptism, we've been called, gifted, and sent. And some of us, by virtue of those gifts, are sent to administer the church's ministry, to order it. That's what ordination does, it sets those of us with these particular administrative gifts aside to be servants to the Body.
It's what makes ordained ministry a representative ministry. We represent the Church, which is the Body of Christ. So, in the end, we represent Jesus. The leadership roles in the Church indicate the trust of the Body and obligate those of us with such trust to keep it. Thus, the sacred trust assumes those of us ordained will always act is the best interests (the "advantage") of the other first.
The Bible is full of messages about keeping this sacred trust in faithful ministry. Think 2 Samuel 12. After King David abused his power to his own sexual advantage with Bathsheba, and was implicated in her husband Uriah's death, the prophet Nathan voiced the prophetic judgment on those who abuse this sacred trust. The prophet Ezekiel issued the same sorts of judgment against those so-called pastors who prey on their flock: "You have not strengthened the weak, you have not healed the sick, you have not bound up the injured, you have not brought back the strayed, you have not sought the lost, but with force and harshness you have ruled them" (34.4).
None has been clearer, though, than Jesus himself: "Just as you did not do to the least of these, you did not do to me" (Matthew 25.45).
In baptism, we pledge to "resist evil, and, whenever you fall into sin, repent and return to the Lord". We further promise to "proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ". In ordering our ministry, we expand upon those promises with this: "Will you do your best to pattern your life and that of your family in accordance to the teachings of Christ, so that you may be a wholesome example to your people?"
Both times, I answered "Yes".
And I've attempted -- not always with success -- to live in keeping with the sacred trust invested in those affirmations.
Have I failed? Absolutely! But always with repentance and amendment of life.
I trust myself so little, in fact, to keep that sacred trust on my own, that I've always sought out spiritual friends and guidances. It's just not possible, I think, to keep that sacred trust without responsibility to others, especially other ordained folks. It's dangerous to our selves -- our pride, sure, but also our unchecked power -- to go off into ministry without that responsibility.
Take sex, for example.
It's hard to believe, in our culture, that sex just can't be any more important. It seems, at least since Freud, that sex is determinative for what it means to be human. It's an "uncontrollable urge", right? The meeting of the need drives our very human existence.
But does it? If we take baptism as our formative identity, I think we're blowing sex's importance out of proportion. It makes us assume that discipleship will always take a back seat.
Want to know what I think? If baptism is our incorporation into the Body of Christ (Romans 6), the our mutual life together in responsibility is a check for sex's power. If we deny that -- if we live by the Freudian narrative -- we'll always assume guilt. We'll always assume that sacred trust isn't strong enough to reign in our behavior.
I think it is. But I know how powerful that Freudian temptation is. So I trust myself so little to battle it alone. This, it seems to me, is precisely the point at which the Church undermines its own sacred trust invested in ministers: We clergy are allowed to be Lone Rangers. Well, not me. I won't have it. Precisely because I treasure those sacred trusts.
This is difficult stuff to talk about in our culture and in our churches, I think, precisely because we believe Freud over Paul. Nearly every time.
I'm not saying pastors can't and won't break our sacred trusts. We can and do. Often. Power and its abuse are a key problem with clergy sexual misconduct. The principle is "celibacy in singleness and fidelity in marriage". And I've seen enough clergy broken by that principle to know, we break our sacred trust to the Church. A lot.
But there's no reason to assume it's always breaking us. There's no reason to assume guilt -- unless you're Freudian.
The power of our clergy office -- particularly with issues of money and sex -- is something we don't talk about as much these days. But we should.
For the health of the Church and the sacred trust it invests in its ministers.
I began thinking about this this afternoon because it breaks my pastoral heart that the Church abandons its prophetic responsibilities in Matthew 18 for rumors, whispers and gossip.
I know the importance of these sacred trusts -- believe me, I do. That's why I defend it.
But it's hard to defend against the onslaughts of a phantom -- a whispy figure that trades in shadows.
It's so difficult, in fact, that it makes me (only briefly so far today, thankfully!) question my own vocation to that sacred trust.
After years of dedicated service inside the institutional church, there's another Spirit blowing besides that phantomy one. That Spirit, in voices of the faithful, keeps hinting at a new direction outside that institution. In another way, engaging in keeping that sacred trust, but in a new way. Behold: Maybe God is doing a new thing again in my life.
What that means for the future, I'm leaving up to trusted spiritual guidance from friends who know and trust me -- and whom I know and trust. But looks like this may be heading somewhere unexpected, somewhere new.
I just have to keep trusting. And keeping that sacred trust.
For my health, sure, but more importantly for the health of others: The Body of Christ.