These stalwart holy people will labor through the week to set down a hearty sermon full of wisdom and truth and then will get doused with criticism on Sunday afternoon.

The critics will moan, "He talks over people's heads. He never tells us what to do -- a good sermon should tell us what to do," the pundits will charge. "He mumbles," the pew-sitters will say, or "he hollers too much." Others will complain, "The pastor stays too long on hospital visits," or "she doesn't stay long enough."

These whipping boys and girls, as the case may be, are used to these weekly lashings and are the kind of people the Bible calls "long-suffering." The reasoning seems to be that because we always will have these people in church leadership, they therefore are fair game.

To counter this, I would like to see efforts by church leaders both to teach these self-proclaimed martyrs how to stand up for themselves and to strip the church of complainers.

You may think this is an impossible goal, but idealist that I am, I believe that it is achievable within our lifetimes. I take encouragement from a recent Promise Keepers gathering here in Minnesota that stopped the macho proceedings long enough to affirm the work of clergy.

Yes, this sets a precedent. Ordinarily, when large groups of Christians get together, one of the blood sports is to attack clergy. I've heard this in conventions, in restaurants, even in bars that serve demon rum.

But at the Promise Keepers event, a fellow named the Rev. Dale Schlafer (Promise Keepers vice president for renewal and spiritual awakening) took the podium to talk about the modern-day pressures on clergy. He made a striking case that congregations are tougher than ever and that clergy are being stomped weekly.

So Schlafer asked clergy to stand up and be counted. They did stand as if they were about to be grabbed and dumped into a church shredder. Then the applause began, and Schlafer egged on the 50,000 men in attendance until the place was rocking. Just as the cheers and clapping was subsiding, Schlafer revved up the crowd once again.

When everyone calmed down, Schlafer asked them to move toward their pastor, or any pastor, and envelop them in encouragement. The small groups began to form on the floor of the huge sports arena and the place fell into a deep silence.

The men stayed clustered around their pastors for a good three or four minutes, which is a long time to be silent. And then the cheers and applause started again. It was a touching moment and one that should be happening in congregations all across the country.

Think how such a scene would strengthen clergy to stand up for their own rights, to stop taking guff from crabby parishioners and get back to mission.

Why, clergy might actually find the courage to take their complainers to task and insist on a little Christian civility. Let's say a pastor has just received a round of applause from a congregation and upon leaving the sanctuary encounters one of the gripers.

"Pastor," the griper says, "I didn't like your sermon this morning. You have to learn to mention Jesus more often -- only three times this morning."

And the pastor says, "I'll tell you what. I'm going to take three weeks' vacation this summer and I need someone to preach on week three. I'll put you down for all three services."

Now we are in a season when clergy are returning from vacations. Wouldn't it be wonderful for the chief lay person to stand during the Sunday morning service and say aloud that the holy guy or gal was missed. Better, that the new year beckons with hope because of his or her professional leadership. And even better, that hugs are a good way to welcome someone home.

Clark D. MorphewAugust 30, 1997