Dear, Dear Friends:

Letters from the pastor are traditionally epistles of reprimand. Seeing oneself as constrained by a stiff-necked people, the pastor attempts to write the congregation into submission. Confident that the only limit to their ministerial wonderfulness is spiritual stubbornness, they dedicate their pens and preaching to browbeat the very congregation to which they are called. I sometimes wonder how church members tolerate such dismissive paternalism. There must be something irresistible in the friendships, or the choir rehearsals, or the coffee that brings people back to endure their weekly scolding. I have on occasion, submitted my congregations to such smug condescending judgmentalism, and now looking back, I am sorry. My regret arises not only from the absurdity of ‘biting the hands that feed me,’ but also because I now see that I missed what God was accomplishing among the people I was assigned to serve. As the hymn states, “[I] feebly struggle, they in glory shine.”

Now this self-deprecating introduction could be seen as a backhanded way to reprimand my congregation, or even other pastors, for not appreciating the goodness among them, but that’s not my intent. I want instead to express my deep appreciation for the wise and spirit-filled people in my congregation. More than that, I want to express my gratitude for the tone and direction of their collective community; my church feeds me not only in the practical sense through financial compensation, but in a spiritual sense through their character, kindness and commitment. As I continue to work among you, I find myself growing professionally, personally and spiritually; and while it is reasonable to give glory to God, I must confess that the instrument of God’s work continues to be you, your grace, your dedication, your good-humored patience.

As I write this, I am struck by how vulnerable it feels to say bless you, thank you, I love you. It’s the kind of thing ministers say on the way out the door—it’s safer that way. With their new call papers or retirement forms in hand, departing clergy can finally risk showing their appreciation. It’s more awkward to express appreciation when you plan to stick around, which I do.

But compliments are slippery if they are not specific. So, here are a few of the things that I love about FPCLG. You delightfully balance homage to the past with enthusiasm for the future. I never hear people talk about the ‘good old days’ as if our future success is rooted in past behavior. And, while people see there was much in our history that was good, it is owned as history; you are open to what’s next.

You are dedicated to quality and constantly seeking authenticity. When something gets built or rebuilt, it’s done right, with respect paid to integrity, endurance and value, an amazing balance for any organization. This applies not only to property maintenance but also organizational, missional and aesthetic expression. It’s a deep commitment that seeks to be good stewards of present resources with an eye to future need.

You’re inquisitive. Ideas and conversation about things big and small come easy. It doesn’t hurt that we have an abundance of smart people with fascinating expertise. From where I sit, I sometimes wish every member knew not only their own strengths, but the amazing giftedness of the people that surround you. When it comes to wisdom, we are a very rich congregation indeed.

You want always to be kind. Sure, everybody gets grumpy from time to time, but after some sleep and a little nourishment, our congregation returns again and again to encouragement, practical help and simple generosity. You work hard to include, not because that’s trendy or what churches are supposed to try, but because you really want to connect with others. You want people to know they matter. It comes so naturally that you sometimes don’t know how special you are.

There are many other things I could say about our church, so many other strengths that need celebrating, and I will try to be more generous in calling out our shared goodness. But for now, just know I’m fortunate to be,

With Love,
Jonathan Krogh
Your Pastor