Quite often, someone goes to introduce me and I get some version of: “So, what do I call you? The Right Reverand Potentate Apostle Deacon Robinson?”
Simply, no. (LOL)
My name is Cameron. That’s the name my parents gave me and I think it’s an important place to start. However, the hope is that you call me “Pastor.”
Titles and Things
Technically, my title within the church is “The Reverand Canon Cameron Robinson, planting Presbyter of Emmanuel Anglican.” Within an Anglican/Episcopal framework comes titles that the public may not always know. Presbyter for example simply means “Elder,” what we often call a fully ordained Pastor or Preist.
“The Reverand” is how my denomination differentiates between one who has a charge over a smaller community like a single church. Next would be “The Very Reverand,” which is the title of a Dean or one who oversees a region/collection of churches. Lastly, you will see “The Right Reverand” which lets you know who is the Bishop. The Bishop’s job is to oversee both the small unit, the region, and the larger unit called the Diocese.
The title “Canon” simply means that the Bishop has assigned a particular duty to this person to help with the completion of his task as overseer of the Diocese. (The Diocese being a collection of churches over a prescribed area. In our diocese, we have 32 church’s spanning SC and GA.)
There are other titles that you’ll likely see in our circles like vicar (a priest in charge of a congregation that isn’t an official church,) or Rector (the selected Sr. Pastor of an established congregation.)
Regardless, every title should have a meaning and indicate a responsibility.
The Titles Are For The People
My mom always says that my grandfather, The Reverand Eugene Augustus Lloyd, Sr, (strong name, right?) would say “The titles are for the people.”
That has stuck with me.
They really are for the people, purely as an identifier of what that person should be able to do. When you board a plane and hear “Ladies and Gentlemen, this is your pilot speaking,” there is an assumption that they should be able to fly a plane, meeting all of the qualifications needed to fly. If you walk into a hospital and see a “Doctor” or “Nurse” there is an assumption that they can help you medically. When you meet a Pastor, you should expect that they can provide faithful guidance in line with the revelation of God via the scriptures.
…but that doesn’t always happen.
And I think that’s exactly where the confusion comes from.
The Confusion
There isn’t clarity as to what Pastors should be called, because there isn’t clarity as to what we actually do. The larger crisis is that depending on your upbringing and cultural context, your understanding of the Pastor may be completely different than mine. You may know condemnation, I may know love. You may know full time pastorate, I may know bi-vocational. I may know executive leadership, and you may know pastor who is also my cousin. (I’ve written here on what I believe a Pastor is.)
And I get it. We all approach this differently. There is a sense of honor that people seek to bestow upon their leader. Sometimes they gain their self worth from the level of popularity or impact their leader has. Sometimes they see the Pastor as divine, and seek not to dishonor God. (I can hear the saints quoting “Touch not mine anointed, and do my prophets no harm!” 1 Chron 16:22)
But be ye not fooled, any clerical title is about service, service to God, and service to neighbor. Any honor we bestow upon our leaders is about appreciation for their service to God and to us, but it is never purely because of the title.
As pastors we should know the goal isn’t self aggrandizement, or being served, rather what we are called is a signal to the people about what we are prepared to do.
A Shift to Friend
“This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends. You are my friends if you do what I command you. No longer do I call you servants, for the servant does not know what his master is doing; but I have called you friends, for all that I have heard from my Father I have made known to you. You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you that you should go and bear fruit and that your fruit should abide, so that whatever you ask the Father in my name, he may give it to you. These things I command you, so that you will love one another.
– John 15: 12-17
The actual goal is to hear “This is Cameron, my Pastor.”
I don’t take that phrase lightly and I also don’t give it to myself. I am a pastor, but to be your pastor is a decision you have to make. An intentional decision to allow me to serve you as we seek the face of God.
Until then, I guess the answer to the post’s question is: “I’m Cameron, Pastor of Emmanuel Anglican.“ (Don’t worry, if I’m around your mama or mine, I’ll use Rev. Robinson, lol)
Beyond that, there is a journey that Jesus took with his Disciples that I hope to take with God’s Children. In this chapter of John, He’s journeyed with them through healing and miracles, teachings and debates. They’d had their world rocked, and after Jesus had given them everything he was charged to give them, he switch the relationship to something much more deep. “No longer do I call you servants, I call you friend.”
The heart of this switch grafts us into who he is! It’s deeper. It’s more intimate (“Abide in me.” – John 15:4)
As Jesus upgrades their relationship from servant to friend, he solidifies his posture from being served to serving them, even death upon a cross.
I think that best summarizes the role of Pastor.
I think that best summarizes what we should be called.
We serve. We wash feet. We fight the wolf. We lay down our lives for our friends, and it’s in that service that our heart is revealed and the distanced “the pastor” switches to the personal “John’s Pastor.”
That’s the actual goal. I await that privilege.
May the titles never get in the way, nor suffice as the glue to the relationship, rather may service win the “my” of your heart, solidifying Pastor not as a guy or gal who sits on a stage, but someone who walks with you in life through the joys and pains, ever pointing you to the one who is the True Savior.
Yea. “This is my pastor.” That’s the goal.
Amen.
