The Spy Show That Taught Me About Ministry

It took us some time, but my husband and I have grown to adore the Apple TV show, Slow Horses. Hard to describe as comedy, drama, or even dramedy, the premise is simple: if you work for the British security service, MI-5, and are not up to snuff, you are sent to Slough House. The entire show is about a group of spies, disdainfully called “slow horses,” who know too much to be fired but are too awful to have any actual responsibility. And at the center of this entire show is a greasy, burned-out former spy master, Jackson Lamb, played by the interminably impressive Gary Oldman (and FYI, a new season beginning September 4th!).

Lamb was once at the top of his game, working with the best of the best. For some reason, which remains a secret to the audience, he chooses to live out the remainder of his career as the chief of these total screw-up wannabe spies who cannot, it seems, do anything right. At one point, he tells his boss, “They’re a bunch of losers, but they’re my losers.” Lamb expects his team to do nothing and gets upset when they try to do anything more than that. At one moment, when a particular team member calls Lamb in to clean up a death, he tells Lamb, “I didn’t mean to kill him,” to which Lamb replies, “Of course you didn’t mean to kill him. Otherwise he’d be alive.”

And that is precisely why I love the show. As Joel Golby wrote in the Guardian, “Perhaps that is the appeal of Slow Horses: the frequency with which they mess up. Watching an immaculate super-spy who never misses a clue, never loses a fight … and wears cool watches in European cities is fun at the cinema — you like your James Bond, don’t you? — but on the sofa it’s a different story altogether. Watching chase scenes that end with spies raggedly out of breath is much more fun.”

The show opens its pilot focused on the always handsome, overly earnest spy River Cartwright. What a name. But River is too sincere and ambitious for his own good. He time and again causes huge headaches by trying too hard. He believes he is better than the other Slow Horses. Over and over again, Lamb or another spy has to save River who has never accomplished anything he set out to do. Any victories he has had were those he failed into. And Lamb, bless him, does not try to make River better or hope that he’ll finally figure it out. Lamb just keeps cleaning up the messes and sticking around.

In some ways, River reminds me of the Apostle Peter who tries so, so hard and just really cannot do what he sets out to do. When Peter steps out of the boat, he desperately wants to prove he loves and follows Jesus anywhere. And what ends up happening? Jesus has to save Peter from certain death by drowning. Peter is the only disciple who does not fade from view after Jesus is arrested. But what does Peter do? Denies Jesus three times. Jesus rescues Peter from himself and his attempts at sincere loyalty over and over again. Even the most earnest of disciples ultimately finds he cannot save himself.

I do not work for MI-5. In most ways, I work for the opposite. Last summer, I took a position as Family Minister at our church. I am responsible for the Children’s Ministry, but have quickly come to realize that any children’s minister is also a parent’s minister. In myriad unexpected ways, I have come to love my job. I find great joy in watching my fifth graders act out Jesus pouring his love into us (in a dramatic Indiana Jones fashion) and my second graders learn about how Esau ran to reconcile with Jacob. Or the fourth grader who made up the equation “thunderstorm plus Jesus equals peace.” I love meeting with young moms who feel like they are in the deep end — with young children and jobs and preschool drop-offs. I really like telling parents how much we love their children and telling kids that I am happy they are here.

But ministry is a weird job, especially if it’s your first time in such a role. Sometimes, when I sit back in my chair at our inefficient staff meeting and think, I work at Slough House. The cast of characters that walk through our door are not the best and brightest. We are all goofy in our own ways and methods.

To be self-reflective, I was not great at any previous job. I don’t think I ever met expectations or exceeded them. I did my job but if I remember correctly, when I quit each one, no one said, “Oh but we need you to stay.” When I thought of children’s ministers, I thought of patient, fun, organized people who had endless ideas and the ability to plan years in advance. I am the kind of person who hates confetti and most social engagements, who loses her temper quickly and has never once been described as fun. And yet, I can say that God has called me to this role at this church. Mystery upon mystery.

Last month, I failed to plan my VBS games crew well and when two middle school boys offered to help our adult leaders, I was unsure. Would they be reliable and not angsty? Were these the best people for the job? Turns out, these boys were amazing and loved doing it. They brought energy and a cool factor I would never have anticipated. And in turn, they felt like a part of a team, asking to show up the next day. It was reminder that God’s plans are always better than mine.

Ministry is counter-cultural because the gospel is counter-cultural. God does not choose the James Bonds of the world to shepherd his church. God chooses the River Cartwrights and, if you’re lucky enough, the Jackson Lambs. I think about priests I have met who faithfully shepherd their small congregations without slick marketing or new initiatives. Or chaplains toiling away at schools for children with developmental or behavioral delays. As Paul writes:

For consider your calling, brothers: not many of you were wise according to worldly standards, not many were powerful, not many were of noble birth. But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are, so that no human being might boast in the presence of God. And because of him you are in Christ Jesus, who became to us wisdom from God, righteousness and sanctification and redemption, so that, as it is written, “Let the one who boasts, boast in the Lord.” (1 Cor 1:26-31)

When I first made the connection between my job and the show, I tried to figure out which character I was most like. I wanted to be like Louisa who ultimately lets her anger drive her actions past reason. At least she is cool. But, the more I thought about it, the more I think I am River. I believe I bring so much more to the team than I do. I think I am better than my fellow ministers, even if I measure that by organization or efficiency standards. I try so hard to be so good and my efforts inevitably end up making a much bigger problem that someone else has to solve, even if it is just my arrogance. Sometimes, on particularly involved craft days, that is a literal mess.

But, like River, my life and my work depends on someone else, who is never in a hurry, never worried and probably wishes I would just rest in His purposes rather than keep trying so hard on my own. Lamb is a poor man’s example of Jesus but his ability to save the day despite the efforts of his earnest yet misguided protege and his deep affection for the worst of these reminds me that I am not world’s greatest spy. In fact, I work at Slough House.