Pastoral theology is that branch that examines the challenges and sundry issues that relate to the pastor’s role among his people. It extends to pastoral care, homiletics, and a host of topics. It is an all-exhaustive theological field that expresses the minister’s presence, authority, and love for his people.
The most practical level impacts directly the personal life of the pastor: his learning, leisure, and friendship. These are the areas that stir my pastoral ministry and that play so very deeply into shaping the pastor I am today. Nevertheless, these pursuits become meaningless without another; someone who shares the same professional, academic, and ecclesiastical heart; someone with whom you can be open and to whom you can say, “Yes, me too; I feel that way, and I know that angst.”
For me, Rev. Dr. Gregg Strawbridge was the embodiment of everything good about pastoral theology. Gregg carried with him the insatiable thirst to see pastoral ministry alive in the academy, around the grill, and the mentoring. Gregg was and will be the gift of God to edify men contemplating or already invested in the life of the church.
At the young age of 57, my dear brother left us! He left us with honor and grace, but he left us. And my heart aches immensely at his absence. He was to me, a model; but more, he was the enlivening partner that I needed 13 years ago when we first met and the enriching friend I spoke with a day before his death.
For the last few years, we have talked on the phone at least monthly about everything. You see, Gregg was the pastor a pastor needed. He was the friend of those who were at the end of their pastoral ministry with no hope, to those struggling with little hope, and to those who were full of hope. He was the person God used to stir optimism and sobriety about the life of the church.
For the last three days before his death, we spoke on the phone three times, exchanged emails about book projects, and offered each other laughter; but to be honest, it was Gregg offering me life in it all. I never felt quite competent enough to meet his theological excellence. But Gregg never once made me feel as if I had a lot of catching up to do, or that I was never going to achieve something, rather, he treated me as an equal, even though his repertoire was replete with accomplishments, recognized projects, and a theological mind that was ahead of many of his contemporaries.
To us, he was just an ordinary pastor. Like many of us who do this for a living, he just wanted to talk, share his pastoral struggles, and I, like an eager child, speedily shared with him mine. I needed him to listen, but I needed him to simply speak; speak into my life and speak into my pastorate.
When I say Gregg was an ordinary pastor, it is an extraordinary-ordinary. He was unbelievably gifted, and that is not to embellish his accomplishments, it’s to state the reality of the kindness of God to pour the benediction of Gregg Strawbridge on us, on my denomination, and in my own life.
Dr. Strawbridge was a talented musician; the kind that touched a guitar and made magic, the kind that could compose and harmonize and provide something beautiful. Perhaps our mutual affection for music brought us closer, though his musical abilities were incomparable. It is safe to say that Gregg lived musically, throwing a note here and there, and wherever those notes went it offered joy to the recipients. I grabbed as many of his notes as I could since we first met.
One would think that with all his gifts, he would be intimidating and unapproachable. His academic prowess was all over his resume and his writing abilities were vast dealing with issues in classical education, covenant baptism and communion, eschatology, apologetics, music, typology, and an astounding love for the good, true, and beautiful. And don’t forget sailing.
Gregg was the kind of biblicist that inspired you to love Jesus more fully in the text of Scriptures. He always took you deeper into the life of Christ because he loved his Lord. We would take a Sunday text he was preaching on, open our Bibles, and spend the 30-60 minutes talking through it, looking for insights to preach more clearly. He was my visionary inspiration. Every time we met at a conference or when I got off the phone, I wanted to produce something for the kingdom, improve in some area, and be a better pastor.
But even though he was the guy recognized at conferences, the men whose debates brought many to change their positions, and though he was sought after for his wisdom, Gregg was approachable in every way. There was not one intimidating bone in his body. One would feel completely at ease with him. His charm, kindness, and experience would flow into every conversation because he believed that pastoral theology was the kind of thing that was practiced charitably, even though at times that included some heated dialogue. But refining was his love language and the common good was Gregg’s goal as a leader in his denomination and as a powerful proponent of orthodoxy everywhere else. Gregg was indefatigable for the kingdom. He was evangelistic for the kingdom and pushed the claims of Jesus in life and now he proclaims his excellencies in death.
The last words I said to him on the phone a day before his death was how much his productivity and pastoral life inspired me. He humbly replied, “Thanks, man!” I didn’t know that would be our last conversation. I keep waiting for another reply to my last email, another phone call to talk about our writing plans, or to talk about some ideas he had for wordmp3, or to talk about church life. And to be honest, though he was one of my dearest friends, he was ultimately my pastor; the embodiment of what makes shepherding desirable. And I will miss him greatly: his voice, humor, intellect, and our long conversations.
Rest in peace, friend! The world made sense to me and so many because you poured into us so purposefully!
