I still reflect on the biblical wisdom of those Ruling Elders. In fact, it is not too much to say that they played an essential role in my spiritual development as a pastor. We had a relationship that molded and formed me into the type of pastor I needed to be. I remain greatly indebted to every one of those men. Their spiritual lessons set me on a course that tangibly taught me how to care for the souls God had entrusted to me.

Introduction

Once upon a time, a long time ago (I think it was July 10, 2026), a dear friend asked me to write something about home visitations conducted by the local pastor and his fellow (ruling) elders. I used that nomenclature because I am a Presbyterian. I was hesitant, but my friend bully-ragged and badgered me until I finally said yes. Going back through some files, I came across material I believe is pertinent, especially given that in many congregations today, home visitation has moved beyond being an endangered species and now qualifies as officially extinct. It is no longer on life support; it has died.

Of course, Joel Osteen visits his people regularly, as did Robert Schuler, Bill Hybels, Rick Warren, and other mega-church pastors. Today, precious few pastors/elders visit in their respective flocks, often surmising that a telephone call is sufficient, if that. Typically, a telephone call is not adequate for someone who is physically sick or spiritually in need.

I cannot convince myself that I can discuss the importance and necessity of home visitation in one article, so I will lay out the areas I think should be examined in just a moment. Before I delve into those points, I want to tell an anecdotal story—maybe two. Probably two. The first concerns my first congregation, and the second relates to a book I’ve begun writing.

In my forty-five years of pastoral ministry, I have served in 3 foreign countries: the Netherlands, Toronto, Ontario, Canada, and Southern California. My first congregation was a Dutch-speaking congregation in a suburb of The Hague called Rijswijk. Don’t even try to pronounce it unless you are Dutch. I had completed my studies at the Free University of Amsterdam and the Theological Seminary of the Reformed Churches in the Netherlands (Theologische Hogeschool van de Gereformeerde Kerken in Nederland). I had begun my doctoral research on Dr. Herman Bavinck. I was and remain a great admirer of Bavinck. It was wonderful to have studied at the seminary where Bavinck had taught for 20 years. I often walked past the house where he lived when he taught Systematic Theology and Ethics in Kampen. Each time, I managed to keep my admiration down to small animal sacrifices.

I vividly recall receiving 6 or 7 calls to various Dutch-speaking congregations and, after much prayer, settling on a wonderful one in Rijswijk. At my first Session (kerkraad) meeting, being loaded for bear with ideas and filled with the exuberance of technical theology. After we prayed and set the agenda for our meeting, I passed out the list of what I thought we should do next in the congregation. A quiet settled over the room, and as I watched the Ruling Elders read what I wrote, I noticed that many eyebrows were raised. Finally, one elder cleared his throat and lovingly said, “This is not what we’re going to do, pastor.” All the others nodded. They then told me what we were going to do—nicely!

I still reflect on the biblical wisdom of those Ruling Elders. In fact, it is not too much to say that they played an essential role in my spiritual development as a pastor. We had a relationship that molded and formed me into the type of pastor I needed to be. I remain greatly indebted to every one of those men. Their spiritual lessons set me on a course that tangibly taught me how to care for the souls God had entrusted to me. I watched how they agreed and disagreed with each other. I observed the same things when I watched them correct one of their “lambs” that was going astray and graciously put it back on the right path. Their spiritual lessons served me exceptionally well before I retired.

The second story concerns a book I am trying to write. It is a book about an 81-year-old pastor (me) looking back and reflecting on forty-five years of pastoral ministry. I keep rewriting the subtitle, but for now, it is this: “Everything You Ever Wanted to Know about Pastoral Ministry When You Were in Seminary, But If Your Professors Had Told You, You Would Have Never Gone into the Ministry.” I would have made the subtitle longer, but I ran out of ink.

What I am aiming at with the series I hope to write on the subject of pastoral home visitations will be broken down into the following segments: 1) The History of Family Visitation in Church History; 2)The Scriptural Basis for Family Visitations; 3) The Spiritual Purpose of Family Visitations; 4) The Necessity of Family Visitations; 5) The Value of Family Visitations; 6) What are the Components of a Proper Family Visitation; and 7) What Kinds of Questions Should be asked of the Father, Mother, and Children at a Family Visitation?

In preparation for the next installment on the history of family visitations, it was commonplace in the early Christian churches that the ecclesiastical leadership needed to make systematic visits to families. Church Fathers such as Clement of Alexandria, John Chrysostom, Gregory the Great (and his lesser-known brother Michael the Not So Great), Ambrose of Milan, and others wrote informative treatises on the subject of home/family visitation. The Apostolic Constitutions (375-380 A.D.) also discuss home visits.

The practice began to be neglected with the rise of what is today called Roman Catholicism. As the Roman Catholic Church became more formalized and its practices codified, family visitation fell into disrepute. By 1215, the Lateran Council decreed that private confession to a priest supplanted the longstanding practice of family visitation. This decree signaled the beginning of the end for family visitation in Roman Catholicism. Lord willing, in the next installment, I will pick up the thread here and move forward.

Ron Gleason is a retired Minister in the Orthodox Presbyterian Church; he lives in Bluffton, SC.