Multivariable Ministry

Sarah B. Drummond
5 min readJul 14, 2023

For the past six months, I’ve written a series of essays under the banner, “Ministry Demystified.” Today’s will be the last on this topic, and then I’ll take a summer break (back on August 11). Next, I’ll begin a new series with the title, “Inspiritus,” which will consider the obligation of the minister to inspire — literally put spirit into — communities.

If you have been reading this series, “Ministry, Demystified,” all along, and are disappointed that I haven’t fully untangled the strange, complicated, and constantly shifting nature of the work of leading spiritual communities, allow me to offer a metaphor by way of apology from the world of mathematics.

Although it didn’t love me back, I loved math classes in high school and college. Much like sports, I had to work harder in math than my peers to achieve a basic level of competence, but that didn’t mean I appreciated the conceptual frameworks it provided any less.

The paradigm shaping my thinking about the mysteries of ministry relates to the difference between algebra and calculus. An algebraic problem requires us to solve for one variable using the numbers surrounding it. 6x + 4 = 22? x = 3. Y/3 = 9? Y = 27. Calculus includes more than one variable, which means we need to consider more than one equation in order to solve for those variables. Solving the following equation requires four steps, which you can learn here.

What makes solving an equation using calculus different from solving a math problem using algebra?

  • First, there’s more than just x to worry about. There’s x, there’s y, and then there are some derivative functions (spoiler alert: that’s the “d”) we need to employ, making arriving at solutions less simple.
  • Second, there’s more than one step, and even the smartest mathematician needs to go through all of them. Sequence matters a lot.
  • Third, solving the problem requires taking notes at each step, not just so we can answer for what x and y signify, but so we can show our work to each other and also have a map for solving the next problem.

That which we call the church occupies an intermediate space between the individual or family and the community as a whole. On one side of it, we have free will and conscience. On the other, we have what’s best for the body politic. In-between, we need settings that help us think about how what’s best for the individual, and what’s right for the whole community, can both be achieved… at least somewhat.

Consider the model above, and the intermediate role of the church. Then consider how much life has changed for individuals and families in the past, say, ten years; and how much our society has changed in the same time. Then we know the challenge that stands before the church: it must change just as much, and just as quickly, even to hold onto its location.

It’s safe to say that, on the whole, the church hasn’t done that. It’s in many settings lost track of what’s important to individuals and families, and what’s needed by way of meaning-making in society as a whole. That’s happened before, and if humanity manages to survive into the future, it’ll probably happen again.

So the church has some work to do in figuring out its appropriate intermediate position. But locating itself isn’t algebraic, because it’s not just individuals or the society that’s changing; it’s both. In other words, the work of discerning where a faith community must put its time and attention isn’t simple and requires numerous equations: lots of carefully sequenced steps, lots of note-taking and showing our math, lots of patience with not-knowing, and lots of tolerance for those who wish life were more simple.

The school I serve, Andover Newton Seminary at Yale Divinity School, has devoted 216 years to providing the churches with a learned clergy. Those two words, “learned” (pronounced in two syllables: LEARN-ed) and “clergy” represent two vast and quickly changing territories.

What is a member of the clergy? A teacher, counselor, mediator, orator, cultural interpreter? Yes x 5 .What does it mean to be educated for ministry today? Is it about facts and figures, about inner integrity, about openness to new ways of thinking, about people skills? Yes, yes, yes, and yes.

As I live in that interstitial space between “learned” and “clergy” we call “seminary,” serving the church located in the space between the individual and society, I find it easy to relate to those whom equations drive to extremes. I empathize with those madmen in the movies whose walls are covered with equations, and who haven’t eaten or bathed in days. I appreciate the frustrated detectives surrounded by bulletin boards with photos and maps and strings, trying to connect dots to solve mysteries.

Fortunately for me, my walls, my nutrition, and my hygiene, I don’t feel the need to solve for every variable. I take it upon myself to look up and around at where the society and individuals’ cares and dreams are moving as I consider how clergy ought to be made more LEARN-ed. But I also believe in an awesome God.

God called me to love and serve, not figure everything out. I pay attention out of reverence and obedience, love as hard as I can, and stay the course. Jesus described himself as the way, not the answer. As we bid farewell to this series, “Ministry Demystified,” thank you for walking the way with me.

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Sarah B. Drummond
Sarah B. Drummond

Written by Sarah B. Drummond

Sarah Birmingham Drummond is Founding Dean of Andover Newton Seminary at Yale Divinity School and teaches and writes on the topic of ministerial leadership.

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