If you've ever felt like the pastor of your church didn't really understand what it was like to be just a "regular Joe" with a family, a job, and responsibilities that were more pressing than his insistence that you live a radical life for Jesus, then you need to read this interview with Matt Redmond. Redmond is a former pastor, now a banker, living the same kind of mundane life as the people in the churches he once served. In his book, The God of the Mundane: Reflections on Ordinary Life for Ordinary People (Kalos Press, 2012), Redmond wrestles through the difficult questions of God's work and God's calling in the midst of our everyday, ordinary lives. In this interview, Eric Landry, executive editor of Modern Reformation, asked Redmond to apply some of the lessons he learned about the mundane life’both in and out of the pulpit’to contemporary church life. We think you'll be encouraged by what you read here, and we encourage you to pick up The God of the Mundane.
You mention at the beginning of your book that it is the work of a pastor, written for people in the pew, but definitely from a pastor's perspective. What would be different about this book if it were the work of a layperson?
This is going to sound a little strange, but I have not read the book since we edited it chapter by chapter. And that was about three years ago. So I cannot remember a lot of what I said outside of the quotes people send me. That said, my time outside of ministry as a layman has been hard. The last three years have made me press in deeper to what I wrote and what I still believe.
But I think I would be more sensitive to those in the business world. I hope I was sensitive. Man, I really hope I was kind to those who have to suffer the demands of middle managers. If I could go back, I could write as a guy whose wife has to clean houses to make ends meet. I would write as a man who wanted to cry at his desk because his father is dead and his daughter is getting tested for Asperger's and the check-engine lights in both cars are shining brighter than the Morning Star. And the boss wants to know why the last person at your desk didn't apply for a credit card. And you feel impossibly stuck.
There were days where honestly I questioned the thesis of my own book, because it was so hard for me to believe that such a small job with small pay but high stress could be meaningful in the kingdom. I would also write about the kindness of God all along the way and how he reveals his faithfulness in very mundane ways. There's drama, sure. But the real theater is in the wings, where the ones holding the cue cards are standing in the shadows.
One other thing: I recently read an article by a pastor about the need for us Christians to expose ourselves to diverse races and the poor. Here's the thing: I already do that at work, five days a week. Something I did not do very much as a pastor. If I could go back, I would write knowing that about so many others and encourage them.
Personally, I felt like much of this book was a gut-check to my own ambitions, self-doubts, conceit, and fears. I would imagine other folks feel the same: "Yes, that makes sense!" If that's true, why doesn't this message of the ordinary and mundane Christian life take root among us? Why isn't the ordinary life for ordinary people more attractive?
About five years ago, I was running on fumes and had moved home to Birmingham. We were working with a church plant. We were so glad to be home, but there was a dark cloud over me as a minister. The sheen had worn off. I needed to read something that would help me love ministry and people again. I started reading Eugene Peterson's books for pastors, and they were like water in the desert for a weary traveler.
The one thing I immediately saw in his writings was the problem in the church of the cult of personality. We have a celebrity problem. It's a worldliness we are unwilling to look long and hard at. And I cannot help but think that problem is linked to our desire to do something big for God. And to see others do big things for God. Doing something that people notice is always attractive. And the more people can see the great deeds we do, the more attractive it is.
I know there is an irony in that. Here I am doing an interview about a book I wrote. I know that very few people write a book that gets them an interview. But to myself, I've had to preach my own message that it would be worth all the writing and editing and hopes and dreams if only my friends read The God of the Mundane and are encouraged.
The message of embracing an ordinary life really cuts across our culture, and the church is not immune. We write and encourage the reading of biographies of men and women who do great things for God. I like those books. But my own temptation is to want to be like them. Rarely do I read them and want more of Jesus.
What is it about pastoral ministry that makes so many of us "pushers" of the extraordinary life to our people?
Back when I was a youth pastor I wanted to see the results of my work. If I did not see results or the results I assumed should be taking place, I figured I needed to do something differently. What better way to justify our own ministry than to point to the extraordinary?
We rarely judge growth among our people by the fruits of the Spirit. They really are kind of boring when showing up in ordinary life. And let's face it: we can't seem to be kind to others at work. But there is something else that may be more to blame than anything else. A pastor's primary field of work is the Scriptures and the souls of men and women. They are his chief concern throughout the day. He thinks about them and studies them all the time. And it is the most natural thing in the world for him to expect those things to hold the same kind of gravity for the people in his congregation. I am not suggesting that plumbers and schoolteachers and accountants and realtors and housewives should not care about the Scriptures and the souls of their friends and neighbors. But plumbers have to think about pipes. And teachers have to plan lessons, and accountants have to reconcile spreadsheets, and realtors have to sell houses. They are going to struggle to read the same books and spend the same amount of time with the Scriptures. I don't think pastors do this on purpose. I didn't. But I think it does happen, because most pastors have not bought in to thinking that the vocations of those in the pew are actually a pushing back of the effects of the Fall.
How do the people in our pews push back against the Fall? Is there any hope there for real victory, for real progress?
There are two ways, I believe. At least two. First, by living out the fruits of the Spirit wherever they are. If it is true the chief end of man is to glorify God and our salvation is to that end, then the indwelling presence of the Holy Spirit is part of it, surely. And when his life is manifested in us through love, joy, peace, kindness, etc., at home and in the workplace and to the waitress at the diner. When we create homes and communities and friendships where the fruit of the Spirit can be seen and felt and known, we push back the Fall. Second, we can push back the Fall by actually doing our jobs in a way that honors God and shows the intention of his creation. When tellers balance their boxes and plumbers fix dripping faucets and doctors make the sick well and teachers patiently help a student see the wonder in a petri dish, then the Fall is pushed back, if only a little at a time.
We would all agree the Fall is pushed back when a person believes the gospel for the first time. No question. We can never minimize this. But above are two ways we do not always consider, because they require faith that God is spreading his glory even when we cannot see measurable progress.
What do you think life will look like for someone who is satisfied with their station in life, who doesn't mind the mundaneness of their existence, who is living in accordance with the right story?
For some people it would look like a wasted life because it's so boring. But I imagine it would look a lot like the lives of our close friends. My wife and I are part of a supper club with two other couples. We get together at least once a month as couples. Often the wives spend time together and we guys do too. We have a group text that we use to talk daily. And all of us have had serious hurts and pains and worries about the health and wellness of our young children at some point. There are failures that test our faith. We are always praying for one another. We are always encouraging one another. Rejoicing with one another. Grieving with one another. Each one of us is fighting to believe the story of the gospel in our relationships and to believe it is truly the only good news we need.
I mention these great friends because when I think of the Christian life, I think of grieving with those who grieve and rejoicing with those who rejoice. I picture men and women looking for opportunities to be kind to each other and encourage one another. Praying for one another a lot. Listening. We do all this and more.
If you had it to do over’plant a church, work with an established church’how would you lead the people into the ordinary Christian life? What would be different about this do-over church from other churches? Essentially, what's the prescription for change?
This is tricky, because I left the ministry. And the last thing I want to sound like is an armchair pastor. But there are advantages to having served in churches and now working in the business world. My hope is I would be far more encouraging about what men and women are already doing. Meaning in vocation is mercurial for men. It's hard to get a hold of, and your boss may not care if you feel fulfilled in your work. We are reduced to metrics, and sometimes even when you are number one in the market in sales, it feels hollow. And women are constantly bombarded by a Buzzfeed style of Christian living through social media giving them "10 ways to love their sons better," "5 things your daughter needs from you," "12 places you must take your kids during summer vacation."
Do men and women need to hear where the Fall has affected them the most? Yes. But they also need to hear repeatedly in sermons, Bible studies, lectures, personal counseling sessions, and for the love of all that is holy, at missions conferences, that their work and their homes are part of God's design for the good of the world.
Since I started working in the business world, a few things have happened to us that were discouraging. That's actually putting it too mildly. They were devastating. First, we went through a period where we literally had no extra money. This is not an exaggeration. We could not even live paycheck to paycheck. And in the middle of all that we were having our daughter tested for Asperger's. Which was not cheap. That was a hard time. Still hard. And there were days, for us it was a year or longer, where the only good news was the gospel. Both parents died within fourteen months. We ached for an encouraging word.
I tell you these things because this is what is going on in the pew every single week. And in the midst of it, they have to clock in, meet sales goals, change diapers, clean up vomit, cook dinner, balance the drawer, be kind to customers, and keep up friendships and family communication. And chances are, one of the cars will break down. What is the prescription for change? Walking into the pulpit knowing this.
How can we help our kids and our congregations to see the moment-by-moment significance of their kingdom life, even in those moments when it doesn't seem like anything significant is happening at all?
My first reaction is to say, "I don't know." But I would assume that if a pastor makes it clear to his people he actually believes that what is happening at work and at home is important work for the kingdom, then they will buy in. We've elevated many church-related activities to the level of a sacrament because they are part of the church and the leaders can track who is there. A pastor can't track what is going on at home and at work. And he needs to communicate that changing diapers at home and kind words in the break room at work are hugely important in the kingdom.
Can you imagine a sermon on this? It's hard to picture. And I get it. Pastors and church leaders feel the pressure to keep the machine going. And if you preach a sermon or series of messages (gasp) on how important the work you do outside the confines of the 501(C3) is, then you risk getting people to volunteer. So I get it. But I think this is one of those shadows of the gospel that could bring relief and comfort for Christians.
