So, here it is, the week of Christmas, and I find myself not only with Christmas Eve and Christmas Day services but now with a funeral on Thursday and another on Monday. And a wedding the following Saturday. So much for a relaxing Christmas! Talk about stress.
The interesting thing is that I am not stressed at all! For one thing, I "enjoy" funerals. Of course, I don't enjoy the fact that someone has died, but I find funerals to be a time that I can provide real help to a family in a time of great need. And since my funerals tend to be fairly simple (scripture readings and a brief meditation), they are not difficult for me to put together. For years I have said that I'd rather do a funeral than a wedding any day! Finally, this year I realized why: in a funeral, I am in charge; but in a wedding NO ONE is in charge! (Though the bride, the bride's mother, and assorted other people think they're in charge!)
So it's a busy week for me, but not terribly stressful (except for the wedding, of course! :)
Tuesday, December 20, 2005
Wednesday, December 07, 2005
On stress in the ministry
Some years ago I put together a seminar on "Burnout in the Ministry" that reflected some of the struggles I was experiencing. Each time I gave that presentation to small groups of pastors it had a different focus. At first, time management was the culprit. Then understanding your gifts and skill-sets. Finally, it was tailoring your ministry expectations to the type of church you pastored. But I have grown to understand that ministry, by nature, is a stressful calling. After all, we are working alongside several sets of expectations: God's, our people's, our family's, and our own expectations of ourselves. (That last one is probably the greatest stressor of them all! At least it has been for me.)
God's expectations are incredibly high -- "be holy as I am holy." And I have decided that the only way I can deal with His expectations of me is to understand that His grace to me equals and far exceeds His expectations. I am stretched by His demands, but I have learned (and am continuing to learn) to rest in His mercy, and patience, and grace. And to understand that when He calls me to a task He will equip me to do that task. I have also come to understand and even to appreciate (as I have spoken of earlier) that ministry is suffering. It doesn't just involve suffering, it is suffering. When a pastor understands that suffering is not necessarily a result of failure in ministry but is instead a partner in ministry, he will not be so overwhelmed by it.
Other's expectations of me also create stress. But I learned a great lesson during a terrible crisis some years ago. A family in church -- who also happened to be our best friends in all the world -- were going through a divorce. Because they were such good friends (and probably because I had never seen close friends divorcing before) I made it my job to preserve their marriage. After all, I was their pastor; I was trained for such things; and, as their friend, I couldn't bear to see either them or us in such overwhelming pain. As you might have guessed, I failed. And in my failure I hated myself and I hated God for letting this happen!
But out of the sadness and anger and depression of that experience, I learned a very simple but terribly profound lesson that I have leaned on ever since. I learned to differentiate between my problem and your problem. As simple as that sounds, it has been lifesaving for me. Your problem (in the case of my friends) is to save your marriage. I can't do that for you. NO ONE else can do that for you, no matter how much we would like to! My problem is to help you, to love you, to be your pastor; but it is not to save your marriage. From that time on, whenever I am dealing with people and feel my adrenalin starting to rise and my neck muscles starting to tighten -- I stop and ask myself, "What is MY problem in this difficult situation and what is theirs?" That saves me from becoming (to use a term now out of currency) "co-dependent" and makes me a much better pastor and helper.
Finally, as to my family's expectations, I look back on 30+ years of ministry and realize that too often I put my church and my church work way ahead of my loyalties to my family. And I regret that. But I have also found my family to be far more gracious and forgiving toward me than I am willing to be toward myself.
God's expectations are incredibly high -- "be holy as I am holy." And I have decided that the only way I can deal with His expectations of me is to understand that His grace to me equals and far exceeds His expectations. I am stretched by His demands, but I have learned (and am continuing to learn) to rest in His mercy, and patience, and grace. And to understand that when He calls me to a task He will equip me to do that task. I have also come to understand and even to appreciate (as I have spoken of earlier) that ministry is suffering. It doesn't just involve suffering, it is suffering. When a pastor understands that suffering is not necessarily a result of failure in ministry but is instead a partner in ministry, he will not be so overwhelmed by it.
Other's expectations of me also create stress. But I learned a great lesson during a terrible crisis some years ago. A family in church -- who also happened to be our best friends in all the world -- were going through a divorce. Because they were such good friends (and probably because I had never seen close friends divorcing before) I made it my job to preserve their marriage. After all, I was their pastor; I was trained for such things; and, as their friend, I couldn't bear to see either them or us in such overwhelming pain. As you might have guessed, I failed. And in my failure I hated myself and I hated God for letting this happen!
But out of the sadness and anger and depression of that experience, I learned a very simple but terribly profound lesson that I have leaned on ever since. I learned to differentiate between my problem and your problem. As simple as that sounds, it has been lifesaving for me. Your problem (in the case of my friends) is to save your marriage. I can't do that for you. NO ONE else can do that for you, no matter how much we would like to! My problem is to help you, to love you, to be your pastor; but it is not to save your marriage. From that time on, whenever I am dealing with people and feel my adrenalin starting to rise and my neck muscles starting to tighten -- I stop and ask myself, "What is MY problem in this difficult situation and what is theirs?" That saves me from becoming (to use a term now out of currency) "co-dependent" and makes me a much better pastor and helper.
Finally, as to my family's expectations, I look back on 30+ years of ministry and realize that too often I put my church and my church work way ahead of my loyalties to my family. And I regret that. But I have also found my family to be far more gracious and forgiving toward me than I am willing to be toward myself.
Thursday, December 01, 2005
One day at a time
How does a long-term pastorate evolve? Literally, "one day at a time!"
I was thinking about this as I waited for my cash at the drive-up teller this afternoon. When I moved to my present church I came with the idea of staying five years or so and then moving on to a more "desirable" congregation (meaning larger, more affluent, more "professional," etc.). So, because I wasn't going to stay for long, I didn't have my name printed on the church stationery. Why make them throw out a lot of outdated sheets? At the house, I kept a lot of our packing boxes, because I just assumed we'd need them soon. And, each year as I compiled the church's annual report, I wondered if it would be my last.
But along the way, one year turned into nearly thirty! There have been times when I've wanted to leave for one reason or another, and times that I tried to leave but it just didn't work out. But for some reason it was hard for me to imagine that I would stay here -- even though the church was doing relatively well. Perhaps it's just that sense that pastors are meant to move around! It wasn't until I turned 50 that it truly occurred to me that I could retire here. I realized that I was at a critical age -- if I wanted to move, that was the time because there's not a big "market" out there for 60-year old pastors! But I didn't want to move! This has been a wonderful place for us -- members who love us and support us, a job I look forward to (just about) every day! Why spoil it all searching for that elusive perfect church? (As someone once told me, "The grass is always greener on the other side, but that's because there's so much manure there!)
So it's been nearly 30 years. But, in reality, it's been about 11,000 days -- one at a time!
I was thinking about this as I waited for my cash at the drive-up teller this afternoon. When I moved to my present church I came with the idea of staying five years or so and then moving on to a more "desirable" congregation (meaning larger, more affluent, more "professional," etc.). So, because I wasn't going to stay for long, I didn't have my name printed on the church stationery. Why make them throw out a lot of outdated sheets? At the house, I kept a lot of our packing boxes, because I just assumed we'd need them soon. And, each year as I compiled the church's annual report, I wondered if it would be my last.
But along the way, one year turned into nearly thirty! There have been times when I've wanted to leave for one reason or another, and times that I tried to leave but it just didn't work out. But for some reason it was hard for me to imagine that I would stay here -- even though the church was doing relatively well. Perhaps it's just that sense that pastors are meant to move around! It wasn't until I turned 50 that it truly occurred to me that I could retire here. I realized that I was at a critical age -- if I wanted to move, that was the time because there's not a big "market" out there for 60-year old pastors! But I didn't want to move! This has been a wonderful place for us -- members who love us and support us, a job I look forward to (just about) every day! Why spoil it all searching for that elusive perfect church? (As someone once told me, "The grass is always greener on the other side, but that's because there's so much manure there!)
So it's been nearly 30 years. But, in reality, it's been about 11,000 days -- one at a time!
Monday, November 28, 2005
On funerals
I attended a funeral today that made me proud to be a pastor. The granddaughter of one of my parishioners was killed in a terrible accident, and this morning I went to her funeral. Funerals for children are incredibly difficult, but the pastors of this church did a masterful job. Their service was personal, hopeful, soulful, and even at times humorous. We mourned together -- deeply -- but we also left with a sense of quiet joy and hope for the future.
Few things disappoint me more than going to a poorly performed funeral. Instead of taking the opportunity to minister to the hurting family, too many pastors go through the motions, read their service books, and give too-long dry sermons that may declare some correct theology but fail to embody the gospel.
The pastor who learns to perform sincere, simple, and grace-filled funerals will build incredible "capital" and loyalty among his people that will -- over the years -- carry him through a host of potentially difficult situations. I was so honored several years ago when one of our senior members told me that I had to stay at the church long enough to do her funeral. I told her that, God willing, I would; and just a few months ago I had the privilege of keeping that promise.
The hardest part of being in the same church for a long time, however, is that I no longer bury my members, I bury my friends!
Few things disappoint me more than going to a poorly performed funeral. Instead of taking the opportunity to minister to the hurting family, too many pastors go through the motions, read their service books, and give too-long dry sermons that may declare some correct theology but fail to embody the gospel.
The pastor who learns to perform sincere, simple, and grace-filled funerals will build incredible "capital" and loyalty among his people that will -- over the years -- carry him through a host of potentially difficult situations. I was so honored several years ago when one of our senior members told me that I had to stay at the church long enough to do her funeral. I told her that, God willing, I would; and just a few months ago I had the privilege of keeping that promise.
The hardest part of being in the same church for a long time, however, is that I no longer bury my members, I bury my friends!
Friday, November 25, 2005
On crisis intervention
"What am I going to do now?" The question came from the daughter of one of my parishioners. Her own young daughter had been critically injured in an accident, and I had been called to the trauma center to be with the family.
While I don't enjoy trauma situations, I've learned to be very comfortable managing them. In many situations I am relatively passive, but in traumas I tend to take as much control as the situation and the people allow. Because -- for the people involved -- so much of their lives is suddenly out of control, I want to bring as much control back into their lives as I can.
That begins with the physical setting. Are people wandering about? I try to bring them together in one room, have them sit down, and in general bring some order to the chaos they are feeling. Where possible, I act as a liaison between the medical staff and the family. Because I often have access to the emergency room itself, I will go in frequently and find out what is happening. (In major trauma centers that's not always possible.) When medical people are with the family, I try to anticipate questions or provide clarifications where I sense the family is not really hearing what is being said.
Obviously, I try to provide what spiritual resources I can. "May I pray with you?" And I pray for the patient and the family -- especially that they might know Christ's peace and protection. I don't usually read scripture in these situations. Later, but not during the crisis. It's too easy to find some proof text that they're not ready to hear at this point.
I also try to make the family as physically comfortable as possible. Does anyone need some juice or coffee?
Once the immediate confusion subsides and the family begins to settle in for the long wait, I have learned to let the various family members cue me in to how I can help. As people move about, I will often talk to people individually and give them the opportunity to let me know how I can help them. "This is really a tough time, isn't it?" often opens up a conversation. But I have also learned that not everyone wants to talk, and I try to honor their privacy. This is often frustrating to hospital staff who want me to "do my job" and "say something 'spiritual' to make my parishioners' pain go away." Of course, no one says that directly to me, but I know that's what they're often thinking. But I have found that people will let me know how I can best help them through this long process.
The simple truth is that these situations are often incredibly painful for family members, and as much as we would like to, we can't relieve them of that pain. We can be with them in their pain, but we can't take it away.
The most frequent question is, "Why did this happen?" and is expressed in a variety of ways. As gently as I can, I try to let people know that I don't know why. I think most people know that, but they need to ask the question anyway -- and I encourage them to ask even if I can't give them a very satisfying answer. But along the way, I stress that even though we don't know what's going on, GOD does -- and He will be with them. I also try to assure them that God didn't do this to them -- that He's not punishing them by harming their loved one. As bizarre as that sounds, I find that a lot of people in crisis just assume that it is a punishment from God for something they've done (or not done).
As time goes on, I talk about how angry they're feeling -- toward the person who might have caused the accident, toward God, toward the medical staff, toward the patient, and toward themselves. I let them know that God can handle their anger, and I may even talk about times that I have been angry with Him. I listen to their hurts and questions, but I don't try to respond to all of them (again to the frustration of staff or other family members who don't think they should be talking like that!). I tell people that they are going to have all sorts of "crazy" thoughts -- and I assure them that they are not crazy. Their systems are just on overload.
Throughout the process I pray with the family or with individuals as I feel it's appropriate. I am always impressed by the power of prayer -- not just for the patient but with the family. It truly is a means of grace.
Most of all, I simply try to be with my people in their pain. I doubt that they will remember much of what I've said, but I know they'll remember that I was there. And to that extent, they will remember that God was there also.
While I don't enjoy trauma situations, I've learned to be very comfortable managing them. In many situations I am relatively passive, but in traumas I tend to take as much control as the situation and the people allow. Because -- for the people involved -- so much of their lives is suddenly out of control, I want to bring as much control back into their lives as I can.
That begins with the physical setting. Are people wandering about? I try to bring them together in one room, have them sit down, and in general bring some order to the chaos they are feeling. Where possible, I act as a liaison between the medical staff and the family. Because I often have access to the emergency room itself, I will go in frequently and find out what is happening. (In major trauma centers that's not always possible.) When medical people are with the family, I try to anticipate questions or provide clarifications where I sense the family is not really hearing what is being said.
Obviously, I try to provide what spiritual resources I can. "May I pray with you?" And I pray for the patient and the family -- especially that they might know Christ's peace and protection. I don't usually read scripture in these situations. Later, but not during the crisis. It's too easy to find some proof text that they're not ready to hear at this point.
I also try to make the family as physically comfortable as possible. Does anyone need some juice or coffee?
Once the immediate confusion subsides and the family begins to settle in for the long wait, I have learned to let the various family members cue me in to how I can help. As people move about, I will often talk to people individually and give them the opportunity to let me know how I can help them. "This is really a tough time, isn't it?" often opens up a conversation. But I have also learned that not everyone wants to talk, and I try to honor their privacy. This is often frustrating to hospital staff who want me to "do my job" and "say something 'spiritual' to make my parishioners' pain go away." Of course, no one says that directly to me, but I know that's what they're often thinking. But I have found that people will let me know how I can best help them through this long process.
The simple truth is that these situations are often incredibly painful for family members, and as much as we would like to, we can't relieve them of that pain. We can be with them in their pain, but we can't take it away.
The most frequent question is, "Why did this happen?" and is expressed in a variety of ways. As gently as I can, I try to let people know that I don't know why. I think most people know that, but they need to ask the question anyway -- and I encourage them to ask even if I can't give them a very satisfying answer. But along the way, I stress that even though we don't know what's going on, GOD does -- and He will be with them. I also try to assure them that God didn't do this to them -- that He's not punishing them by harming their loved one. As bizarre as that sounds, I find that a lot of people in crisis just assume that it is a punishment from God for something they've done (or not done).
As time goes on, I talk about how angry they're feeling -- toward the person who might have caused the accident, toward God, toward the medical staff, toward the patient, and toward themselves. I let them know that God can handle their anger, and I may even talk about times that I have been angry with Him. I listen to their hurts and questions, but I don't try to respond to all of them (again to the frustration of staff or other family members who don't think they should be talking like that!). I tell people that they are going to have all sorts of "crazy" thoughts -- and I assure them that they are not crazy. Their systems are just on overload.
Throughout the process I pray with the family or with individuals as I feel it's appropriate. I am always impressed by the power of prayer -- not just for the patient but with the family. It truly is a means of grace.
Most of all, I simply try to be with my people in their pain. I doubt that they will remember much of what I've said, but I know they'll remember that I was there. And to that extent, they will remember that God was there also.
Wednesday, November 23, 2005
On Advent sermons
I love the Advent season, but I've learned after 30 years on the job that there's only so much one can say about it. So I freely admit to repeating my Advent/Christmas sermons. I've said in other postings that I don't re-preach old sermons very much, but I make an exception with Advent (and with Good Friday/Easter). Oh, sure, I re-work them a bit, changing topical references, and every three or four years I will work up a new series. But (at least for me) there's not much more that I can say about Christmas that I haven't said somewhere along the line!
Just be careful with stories and memorable illustrations, because people do remember them! Sometimes I'll preface an old story with, "I know I've told you this before. . . ."
One of these years I'll get brave and just call my Advent series, "The Best of . . ."!
Just be careful with stories and memorable illustrations, because people do remember them! Sometimes I'll preface an old story with, "I know I've told you this before. . . ."
One of these years I'll get brave and just call my Advent series, "The Best of . . ."!
Wednesday, November 16, 2005
More on Networking
I do a lot of networking in our small city. When I came thirty years ago, we didn't call it that. I was just trying to introduce myself and our little church to people. And one of the best ways, I thought, was to join some civic organizations and get to know some of the officials and businessmen and women in town.
A lot of people would think all of that a waste of the pastor's time, but fortunately my congregation didn't. Instead of being jealous for my time out in the "secular" community, they were generous with it. Over the years that investment has "paid off" handsomely, as some of those contacts have translated into people coming to Christ and coming into our church. At other times, having a personal relationship with government officials has made it easier to get building projects done. And because the community sees me not just as one of the pastors but as a seasoned "civic leader," it has opened a number of unusual doors for ministry to people who wouldn't normally walk through my church's doors.
Just this past Sunday a civic leader (whom I have known since he moved to town to take his position) visited church at the invitation of one of our members. She didn't have to introduce him to the pastor, since we had served together on several committees over the years and were on a first-name basis. As with so many of these contacts I have no idea where this will lead, but I doubt that he would have responded so readily to her invitation if he hadn't already known who I was.
My member's comment to me (regarding this gentleman's quick response to her invitation) was, "The Holy Spirit was surely preparing his heart!" And, of course, He was and is. What she perhaps didn't realize is that the Spirit had begun His work at least eight years earlier!
A lot of people would think all of that a waste of the pastor's time, but fortunately my congregation didn't. Instead of being jealous for my time out in the "secular" community, they were generous with it. Over the years that investment has "paid off" handsomely, as some of those contacts have translated into people coming to Christ and coming into our church. At other times, having a personal relationship with government officials has made it easier to get building projects done. And because the community sees me not just as one of the pastors but as a seasoned "civic leader," it has opened a number of unusual doors for ministry to people who wouldn't normally walk through my church's doors.
Just this past Sunday a civic leader (whom I have known since he moved to town to take his position) visited church at the invitation of one of our members. She didn't have to introduce him to the pastor, since we had served together on several committees over the years and were on a first-name basis. As with so many of these contacts I have no idea where this will lead, but I doubt that he would have responded so readily to her invitation if he hadn't already known who I was.
My member's comment to me (regarding this gentleman's quick response to her invitation) was, "The Holy Spirit was surely preparing his heart!" And, of course, He was and is. What she perhaps didn't realize is that the Spirit had begun His work at least eight years earlier!
Sunday, October 30, 2005
The Elements of Pastoring
One of my favorite little books is Strunk and White's The Elements of Style. Someone recommended it to me my first year in seminary, and it has been a close companion ever since. With brevity and clarity it attempts to teach writers how to write. (Preachers would do well to heed its instructions as well. One of my favorite rules is #13: "Omit needless words.")
Some time ago (and much less formally) I began to keep a list I call "The Elements of Pastoring." If I were to think seriously about the issue, my list would be more comprehensive, but here is what I have so far:
1. Remember "The Peter Principle." ("In any hierarchical organization people rise to the level of their incompetence.")
2. Don't be careless with public worship, weddings, funerals, etc.
3. Enjoy the journey not just the destination. (A particularly difficult one for me!)
4. Be a person of grace.
5. Have something clear to say in your sermon, and say it simply and well.
6. Find your own voice as a pastor and trust it. (Stop trying to imitate the latest fads.)
What would you add to these?
Some time ago (and much less formally) I began to keep a list I call "The Elements of Pastoring." If I were to think seriously about the issue, my list would be more comprehensive, but here is what I have so far:
1. Remember "The Peter Principle." ("In any hierarchical organization people rise to the level of their incompetence.")
2. Don't be careless with public worship, weddings, funerals, etc.
3. Enjoy the journey not just the destination. (A particularly difficult one for me!)
4. Be a person of grace.
5. Have something clear to say in your sermon, and say it simply and well.
6. Find your own voice as a pastor and trust it. (Stop trying to imitate the latest fads.)
What would you add to these?
Saturday, October 15, 2005
On leading worship
It's Saturday night, and I have just finished going through my sermon. And I can't wait for tomorrow!
I love to lead my people in worship! I know some pastors are so consumed with the details of the service that they are not really able to worship (and I understand how that can be -- and sometimes I do get distracted by my role). But, for the most part, I truly worship with my people and I love it!
Of course, part of that worship experience is to bring them a word from God. And, fresh as I am from encountering that Word myself, I can't wait to pass it along to my folks. I am most effective in my preaching not when I focus on some "sinful" member of my congregation and try to figure out how to convince her to repent, but when I focus on my needy self and explore the text for the word of grace that I need!
I suppose that when Sundays become a burden to me rather than a joy, I'll take that as some sort of sign from God that it's time to move on to a new ministry. Until then I'll look forward to Sundays like a child looks forward to Christmas!
I love to lead my people in worship! I know some pastors are so consumed with the details of the service that they are not really able to worship (and I understand how that can be -- and sometimes I do get distracted by my role). But, for the most part, I truly worship with my people and I love it!
Of course, part of that worship experience is to bring them a word from God. And, fresh as I am from encountering that Word myself, I can't wait to pass it along to my folks. I am most effective in my preaching not when I focus on some "sinful" member of my congregation and try to figure out how to convince her to repent, but when I focus on my needy self and explore the text for the word of grace that I need!
I suppose that when Sundays become a burden to me rather than a joy, I'll take that as some sort of sign from God that it's time to move on to a new ministry. Until then I'll look forward to Sundays like a child looks forward to Christmas!
Tuesday, October 11, 2005
On church size
I know that the focus of these discussions is on the length of the pastorate, but I want to say a word about the size of one's church.
I enjoy pastoring a smaller congregation. It's certainly not as small as when I came, but we have just over 200 members. Gone are the days of my youth when I envied those in large churches! Large churches -- for all their many benefits -- bring large problems! (Not that small churches don't have their share of large problems, just fewer of them, I suspect!)
I was reminded of this last night as I was driving home after visiting one of our families who are caring for a dying father and husband. "John" has been in ill health for some time and under hospice care at home for about a month. Most recently as he has declined significantly I have been able to see him and his family at least once a day and often two or even three times through the day. I can do that because I don't have 2,000 members to look after. Granted, if I did have that many I would also have additional staff to assist me, but I enjoy the face-to-face contact I am able to have with my sheep. The thought of passing that off to my Pastor of Visitation doesn't excite me!
I used to think that pastors of smaller churches were somehow inferior to those of larger churches. I now understand that we each have our unique gifts and places. Indeed, I suspect that many pastors of large churches would be as incapable of pastoring my church (and miserable being here) as I would be in their congregations.
Wanting what you have is so much more important than having what you want (or think) you want!
I enjoy pastoring a smaller congregation. It's certainly not as small as when I came, but we have just over 200 members. Gone are the days of my youth when I envied those in large churches! Large churches -- for all their many benefits -- bring large problems! (Not that small churches don't have their share of large problems, just fewer of them, I suspect!)
I was reminded of this last night as I was driving home after visiting one of our families who are caring for a dying father and husband. "John" has been in ill health for some time and under hospice care at home for about a month. Most recently as he has declined significantly I have been able to see him and his family at least once a day and often two or even three times through the day. I can do that because I don't have 2,000 members to look after. Granted, if I did have that many I would also have additional staff to assist me, but I enjoy the face-to-face contact I am able to have with my sheep. The thought of passing that off to my Pastor of Visitation doesn't excite me!
I used to think that pastors of smaller churches were somehow inferior to those of larger churches. I now understand that we each have our unique gifts and places. Indeed, I suspect that many pastors of large churches would be as incapable of pastoring my church (and miserable being here) as I would be in their congregations.
Wanting what you have is so much more important than having what you want (or think) you want!
Sunday, October 02, 2005
On Coasting
The greatest danger I face in the ministry is thinking I've got it all (or even most of it) figured out! The truth is that ministry (like any other job) involves a lot of routines -- agendas, meetings, getting the bulletin figured out, returning phone calls, etc. But as soon as I allow it to become simply a job, simply routine, I'm in trouble!
The worst possible thing I can do is coast. And yet that's the easiest mode to fall into, because I've been doing this for so long. I've come to understand how the TV evangelists could fall into the traps that some of them have, because after a while, you begin to think that you're pretty good at what you do -- and you forget that ministry, at its heart, is what HE does through you. I can put on a "show" for a while, but pretty soon if I am just coasting in my own abilities, my humanity surfaces and I am driven back to grace!
For me, my daily exposure to the Word -- as I prepare for next Sunday's message -- keeps me humble and dependent. As I hear God speaking to Israel (or whomever), I hear Him challenging me not to coast but to rest completely on Him.
The worst possible thing I can do is coast. And yet that's the easiest mode to fall into, because I've been doing this for so long. I've come to understand how the TV evangelists could fall into the traps that some of them have, because after a while, you begin to think that you're pretty good at what you do -- and you forget that ministry, at its heart, is what HE does through you. I can put on a "show" for a while, but pretty soon if I am just coasting in my own abilities, my humanity surfaces and I am driven back to grace!
For me, my daily exposure to the Word -- as I prepare for next Sunday's message -- keeps me humble and dependent. As I hear God speaking to Israel (or whomever), I hear Him challenging me not to coast but to rest completely on Him.
Saturday, October 01, 2005
Some thoughts about sermons
It's Saturday morning, and I am sitting in my office, having finished tomorrow's sermon. I'll be back tonight to go through it a couple of times, and back early tomorrow morning to review it again (out loud) a few more times. Hearing my words is important -- what looks good on paper often sounds awkward or unnatural to the ear.
I've quit apologizing for not getting my sermons done by Thursday! First, I've been thinking, studying, and ruminating about it all week, so I knew coming here this morning essentially what I was going to say. (In fact, I fell asleep last night thinking about how I would organize the sermon.) Second, it's fresh for tomorrow. I don't have to "re-learn" a sermon that I completed days ago. Finally, I'm just a deadline guy -- it's the way I've operated for my whole life, and I'm not about to change now. At semester's beginning in college and seminary I always thought what a good idea it would be to get that term paper out of the way in the first few weeks. But, inevitably, the last week of the semester found me rummaging through the library stacks with my 3 x 5 cards, working on my papers!
My goal in creating a sermon is quite simple --— to give my people a word from God. That means I need to "listen to the text" and organize my sermon around it rather than organizing the text to fit my ideas. Clearly, my personality and prejudices color what I say, and I will focus on issues that another pastor might not, but I work very hard to keep the TEXT in capital letters and my grid in the lower case.
As John Stott says, "We come to our reading of the Bible with our own agenda, bias, questions, preoccupations, concerns and convictions, and, unless we are extremely careful, we impose these on the biblical text. We may sincerely pray before we read, 'Open my eyes that I may see wonderful things in your law' (Ps. 119:18), but still the same non-communication may persist. For even that introductory prayer, though to be sure it is taken from the Psalter, is suspect because it lays down the kind of message we want to hear. 'Please, Lord, I want to see some "wonderful thing" in your word.' But he may reply, 'What makes you think I have only "wonderful things" to show you? As a matter of fact, I have some rather "disturbing things" to show you today. Are you prepared to receive them?' 'Oh no, Lord, please not', we stammer in reply. 'I come to Scripture only to be comforted; I really do not want to be challenged or disturbed.'" [The Contemporary Christian (Downers Grove: IVP, 1992), p. 190.]
For me the most important ingredients of good preaching are humility, simplicity, and integrity. My life needs to be congruent with the text. I don't need to be perfect, but I do need to preach to myself before I can preach to my people.
I've quit apologizing for not getting my sermons done by Thursday! First, I've been thinking, studying, and ruminating about it all week, so I knew coming here this morning essentially what I was going to say. (In fact, I fell asleep last night thinking about how I would organize the sermon.) Second, it's fresh for tomorrow. I don't have to "re-learn" a sermon that I completed days ago. Finally, I'm just a deadline guy -- it's the way I've operated for my whole life, and I'm not about to change now. At semester's beginning in college and seminary I always thought what a good idea it would be to get that term paper out of the way in the first few weeks. But, inevitably, the last week of the semester found me rummaging through the library stacks with my 3 x 5 cards, working on my papers!
My goal in creating a sermon is quite simple --— to give my people a word from God. That means I need to "listen to the text" and organize my sermon around it rather than organizing the text to fit my ideas. Clearly, my personality and prejudices color what I say, and I will focus on issues that another pastor might not, but I work very hard to keep the TEXT in capital letters and my grid in the lower case.
As John Stott says, "We come to our reading of the Bible with our own agenda, bias, questions, preoccupations, concerns and convictions, and, unless we are extremely careful, we impose these on the biblical text. We may sincerely pray before we read, 'Open my eyes that I may see wonderful things in your law' (Ps. 119:18), but still the same non-communication may persist. For even that introductory prayer, though to be sure it is taken from the Psalter, is suspect because it lays down the kind of message we want to hear. 'Please, Lord, I want to see some "wonderful thing" in your word.' But he may reply, 'What makes you think I have only "wonderful things" to show you? As a matter of fact, I have some rather "disturbing things" to show you today. Are you prepared to receive them?' 'Oh no, Lord, please not', we stammer in reply. 'I come to Scripture only to be comforted; I really do not want to be challenged or disturbed.'" [The Contemporary Christian (Downers Grove: IVP, 1992), p. 190.]
For me the most important ingredients of good preaching are humility, simplicity, and integrity. My life needs to be congruent with the text. I don't need to be perfect, but I do need to preach to myself before I can preach to my people.
Saturday, September 24, 2005
Long-term evangelism
A man whom I'll call "Dave" came to see me last week. I've known Dave for over 20 years. He's not what folks around here would call a "church-goer." Not by a long shot! He's been (as westerners might put it) "rode hard and put up wet!" But throughout the years, during some of the rough spots in his life, Dave had felt free to come by and talk. I've thought about trying to evangelize Dave in the past, but somehow it never seemed like the right time (whatever that means). Maybe I should have been more aggressive, but I'm just not the aggressive type!
But this visit was different. Dave was broken -- by another bad marriage and divorce, by business problems, and by who knows what else. "I've finally realized that I don't need another woman, I need Jesus!" And so, finally, we talked about Jesus. Dave still has a ways to go -- he still doesn't quite understand that sin is not just what we DO but who we ARE -- but he's so close to the Kingdom that he (and I) can taste it. I'm praying that he'll "get it" and take the final steps; and I'm pretty confident he will.
But my point -- again -- is that this was a contact that God has nurtured for years. And when Dave finally does stake out his faith in Christ it won't be a flash in the pan "decision" but the first step in a life-long walk of "discipleship!" And I'll have the great privilege to be there to walk with him.
It's worth it for a pastor to stay around long enough to see these kinds of relationships bear fruit!
But this visit was different. Dave was broken -- by another bad marriage and divorce, by business problems, and by who knows what else. "I've finally realized that I don't need another woman, I need Jesus!" And so, finally, we talked about Jesus. Dave still has a ways to go -- he still doesn't quite understand that sin is not just what we DO but who we ARE -- but he's so close to the Kingdom that he (and I) can taste it. I'm praying that he'll "get it" and take the final steps; and I'm pretty confident he will.
But my point -- again -- is that this was a contact that God has nurtured for years. And when Dave finally does stake out his faith in Christ it won't be a flash in the pan "decision" but the first step in a life-long walk of "discipleship!" And I'll have the great privilege to be there to walk with him.
It's worth it for a pastor to stay around long enough to see these kinds of relationships bear fruit!
Sunday, September 11, 2005
Giving Time for Contacts to "Mature"
Sometime it just takes a while for personal contacts to "mature."
This past Sunday our elders interviewed a couple for church membership that I first met about 20 years ago. The husband was a reporter for our local paper and attended a service to cover some story he was working on. Sunday he told us that he never forgot the impression that the service made on him. So when his own church began to fall into some troubling doctrinal problems, they decided to join ours.
Just tonight I had a conversation with a couple I've known for 10 years or so through a community organization that we are part of. They had been talking to several of our members about our church and were impressed by their enthusiasm. I don't know if they'll decide to try out our church (I never try to "recruit" members from other churches), but if they do, it will be the culmination of years of personal relationship with them.
I could tell lots of similar stories of the benefits of "sticking around" and getting to know people in the community outside the church. These are opportunities that would never mature if the church traded pastors every five to seven years.
This past Sunday our elders interviewed a couple for church membership that I first met about 20 years ago. The husband was a reporter for our local paper and attended a service to cover some story he was working on. Sunday he told us that he never forgot the impression that the service made on him. So when his own church began to fall into some troubling doctrinal problems, they decided to join ours.
Just tonight I had a conversation with a couple I've known for 10 years or so through a community organization that we are part of. They had been talking to several of our members about our church and were impressed by their enthusiasm. I don't know if they'll decide to try out our church (I never try to "recruit" members from other churches), but if they do, it will be the culmination of years of personal relationship with them.
I could tell lots of similar stories of the benefits of "sticking around" and getting to know people in the community outside the church. These are opportunities that would never mature if the church traded pastors every five to seven years.
Monday, August 29, 2005
Satisfaction
Yesterday I baptized the third child of a couple I married 12 years ago. It's one of the most gratifying rewards of staying in one church for a long time. I hope within the next year or two to marry a couple who were both born while I have been here. What a privilege -- to see young people grow up under your ministry, get married, and begin a Christian family -- knowing only one pastor all their lives. It's one of the intangibles of a long-term pastorate.
Monday, August 22, 2005
Sunday morning
Different pastors bring different gifts to their callings -- some excel at counseling, others at administration, and still others at relational ministries. For me, everything revolves around the Sunday morning service. Not just the sermon but the service. I love to worship with my people. I enjoy preaching, but I see preaching as one (significant) part of worship.
I am not a great preacher -- I have neither the time nor the temperament -- but I think I'm a good preacher, and I work hard at it. Indeed, I have found that when pastors do reasonably well in their "public" ministries (preaching, funerals, weddings, hospital visitation), congregations often overlook a lot of their other weaknesses!
So I manuscript my sermons and then come in on Saturday nights and early Sunday mornings to go over the sermon enough times that it becomes a part of me. I don't try to memorize it, but I do want to know it well enough that I don't have to be constantly looking down at my notes.
I also believe that worship deserves the best of our efforts. Our service has a theme (an attribute of God based on the sermon text), and the music complements that theme (God is holy, creative, gracious, etc.). And I and our musicians work hard to do our best. I have often said that we don't have to be the best at what we do, but we ought to do the best that we can. Someone else may do it better, but we need to do the best that WE can, to the honor of Christ, in leading our people in worship. "Slipshod" or "careless" have no place on Sunday morning.
One final note: I prefer not to take Mondays off. I use Mondays to clean up all the loose ends from Sunday and also to take a preliminary look at next Sunday's text so I can be meditating on it through the week.
I am not a great preacher -- I have neither the time nor the temperament -- but I think I'm a good preacher, and I work hard at it. Indeed, I have found that when pastors do reasonably well in their "public" ministries (preaching, funerals, weddings, hospital visitation), congregations often overlook a lot of their other weaknesses!
So I manuscript my sermons and then come in on Saturday nights and early Sunday mornings to go over the sermon enough times that it becomes a part of me. I don't try to memorize it, but I do want to know it well enough that I don't have to be constantly looking down at my notes.
I also believe that worship deserves the best of our efforts. Our service has a theme (an attribute of God based on the sermon text), and the music complements that theme (God is holy, creative, gracious, etc.). And I and our musicians work hard to do our best. I have often said that we don't have to be the best at what we do, but we ought to do the best that we can. Someone else may do it better, but we need to do the best that WE can, to the honor of Christ, in leading our people in worship. "Slipshod" or "careless" have no place on Sunday morning.
One final note: I prefer not to take Mondays off. I use Mondays to clean up all the loose ends from Sunday and also to take a preliminary look at next Sunday's text so I can be meditating on it through the week.
Sunday, August 21, 2005
Finishing Well
I am preaching through Isaiah and have arrived at the historical section in chapters 36-39. In one of the saddest commentaries on his life, Hezekiah concludes -- reacting to the news that because of his prideful act the Babylonians will defeat Judah -- (39:8): At least "there will be peace and security in my lifetime."
So, I preached on "Finishing Well." How sad that so many live exemplary lives (as Hezekiah had done) only to be undone in their closing years by some act of foolishness. He was on guard against Assyrian power but was done in by Babylonian flattery.
I often reflect on Paul's words to the Corinthians: "...I beat my body and make it my slave so that after I have preached to others, I myself will not be disqualified for the prize." (1 Cor. 9:27) Paul was obsessed with finishing well -- and it was a healthy obsession! And apparently he succeeded. As he writes in 2 Tim. 4:7, "I have fought the good faith, I have finished the course, I have kept the faith."
If I could choose my own epitaph it would be simply, "He Finished Well."
So, I preached on "Finishing Well." How sad that so many live exemplary lives (as Hezekiah had done) only to be undone in their closing years by some act of foolishness. He was on guard against Assyrian power but was done in by Babylonian flattery.
I often reflect on Paul's words to the Corinthians: "...I beat my body and make it my slave so that after I have preached to others, I myself will not be disqualified for the prize." (1 Cor. 9:27) Paul was obsessed with finishing well -- and it was a healthy obsession! And apparently he succeeded. As he writes in 2 Tim. 4:7, "I have fought the good faith, I have finished the course, I have kept the faith."
If I could choose my own epitaph it would be simply, "He Finished Well."
Friday, August 19, 2005
Simplicity
Someone has said, "Simplicity is truth's most becoming garb," and the older I get the more I appreciate that insight.
When I arrived at my first church, fresh from a wonderful and (for me) eye-opening and enlarging experience at seminary, I couldn't wait to pass on all the "good stuff" that I had just received. So my poor congregation had to sit through a maze of theology and apologetics and who-knows-what-else that I dumped out on them each week.
I was so offended when one of our members -- a well-education person I had previously thought -- came up to me one Sunday after church and said (very kindly), "Pastor, we just need something to get us through the week." Now, however, I take it as a badge of honor when one of the children engages me in conversation about the sermon after the service. Or when a parent confides in me that her eight-year old really enjoys my messages.
"Simple" doesn't mean "dumbed down" or inane. Indeed, the simpler my sermons become they harder they are to produce! I work very hard to take complex and sophisticated concepts and word them in a way people can grasp and respond to. These are not "children's sermons" by any means.
By the way, I really don't believe in special sermons for children. The ones I've seen usually only serve to bring the service to a halt and draw the congregation's attention to the cute giggling children, while the pastor pulls out some object lesson that (according to most developmental psychologists) is beyond the grasp of most of his listeners! Young children have a hard time sorting out the "object" from the "lesson!" A good sermon, carefully crafted, should speak to the whole family of believers, not just the adults with post grad degrees! (At the very least, it should provide an opportunity for parents to talk with their children at Sunday dinner.)
I was humbled some years ago when, after the service, a member handed me a slip of paper with this quotation from Ecclesiastes 12:10 in the Living Bible: "For the Preacher was not only a wise man, but a good teacher; he not only taught what he knew to the people, but he taught them in an interesting manner." That's true simplicity.
When I arrived at my first church, fresh from a wonderful and (for me) eye-opening and enlarging experience at seminary, I couldn't wait to pass on all the "good stuff" that I had just received. So my poor congregation had to sit through a maze of theology and apologetics and who-knows-what-else that I dumped out on them each week.
I was so offended when one of our members -- a well-education person I had previously thought -- came up to me one Sunday after church and said (very kindly), "Pastor, we just need something to get us through the week." Now, however, I take it as a badge of honor when one of the children engages me in conversation about the sermon after the service. Or when a parent confides in me that her eight-year old really enjoys my messages.
"Simple" doesn't mean "dumbed down" or inane. Indeed, the simpler my sermons become they harder they are to produce! I work very hard to take complex and sophisticated concepts and word them in a way people can grasp and respond to. These are not "children's sermons" by any means.
By the way, I really don't believe in special sermons for children. The ones I've seen usually only serve to bring the service to a halt and draw the congregation's attention to the cute giggling children, while the pastor pulls out some object lesson that (according to most developmental psychologists) is beyond the grasp of most of his listeners! Young children have a hard time sorting out the "object" from the "lesson!" A good sermon, carefully crafted, should speak to the whole family of believers, not just the adults with post grad degrees! (At the very least, it should provide an opportunity for parents to talk with their children at Sunday dinner.)
I was humbled some years ago when, after the service, a member handed me a slip of paper with this quotation from Ecclesiastes 12:10 in the Living Bible: "For the Preacher was not only a wise man, but a good teacher; he not only taught what he knew to the people, but he taught them in an interesting manner." That's true simplicity.
A Word-centered ministry
If I have a passion in the ministry, it is to preach the Word. It's the only source of authority that I have. I can say all sorts of clever, "relevant" things, but if I'm not declaring God's Word to people I'm no different from any other social commentator or motivational speaker.
So I found it encouraging the other day when a number of us from church were attending an out-of-town family wedding conducted by another pastor. During the wedding, the officiant gave a very down-to-earth talk to the couple on the realities of marriage. But here was the source of my encouragement: one of my members came up to me during the dinner and said, "That was a very practical talk, and it was all probably true, but he made no effort to tie what he was saying to Scripture."
To be sure, Scripture was read in the service, but it was almost an ornament -- there for effect but of little real use. Ironically, another friend told me recently of going to a Unitarian wedding where the "scripture reading" was from "The Velveteen Rabbit." While we would never consider replacing Scripture, we don't seem to mind ignoring it!
And while I'm on this rant, another pet peeve: Churches that loudly proclaim their belief in the Bible but rarely read much of it in a worship service! I've been in services where the only Scripture read was a verse or two by the pastor before his sermon. "Devote yourself to the public reading of scripture," wrote Paul to Timothy (1 Timothy 4:13).
So I found it encouraging the other day when a number of us from church were attending an out-of-town family wedding conducted by another pastor. During the wedding, the officiant gave a very down-to-earth talk to the couple on the realities of marriage. But here was the source of my encouragement: one of my members came up to me during the dinner and said, "That was a very practical talk, and it was all probably true, but he made no effort to tie what he was saying to Scripture."
To be sure, Scripture was read in the service, but it was almost an ornament -- there for effect but of little real use. Ironically, another friend told me recently of going to a Unitarian wedding where the "scripture reading" was from "The Velveteen Rabbit." While we would never consider replacing Scripture, we don't seem to mind ignoring it!
And while I'm on this rant, another pet peeve: Churches that loudly proclaim their belief in the Bible but rarely read much of it in a worship service! I've been in services where the only Scripture read was a verse or two by the pastor before his sermon. "Devote yourself to the public reading of scripture," wrote Paul to Timothy (1 Timothy 4:13).
Tuesday, August 16, 2005
Are we having fun yet?
Ministry is serious business. We're dealing with life and death issues and, more significantly, with eternal issues. That's why I don't care for the sort of whimsical pulpit style that seems to me unbecoming of a pastor.
But while we take our work seriously, we don't have to take OURSELVES seriously!
A sense of humor (appropriately expressed!) can go a long way toward dissolving tensions in meetings and relationships. If a member knows that I can laugh at myself (never at someone else's expense), she's much less likely to take offense at something I say or do. My people and I laugh a lot together -- and that makes it easier to cry together when we need to.
Someone has said that God must have a sense of humor -- after all, he created the giraffe! So if God can smile, shouldn't his pastors?
(By the way, there's a huge difference between humor and sarcasm. One is life-giving, the other deadly.)
But while we take our work seriously, we don't have to take OURSELVES seriously!
A sense of humor (appropriately expressed!) can go a long way toward dissolving tensions in meetings and relationships. If a member knows that I can laugh at myself (never at someone else's expense), she's much less likely to take offense at something I say or do. My people and I laugh a lot together -- and that makes it easier to cry together when we need to.
Someone has said that God must have a sense of humor -- after all, he created the giraffe! So if God can smile, shouldn't his pastors?
(By the way, there's a huge difference between humor and sarcasm. One is life-giving, the other deadly.)
Friday, August 12, 2005
Relax!
A panicked wife called and had to see me as soon as possible. I'd been working off and on with this couple for quite a while -- lots of complicated issues that I won't try to describe. After talking with her, I had an excellent sense of what was happening and called the husband to talk things over with him. When the two of us got together, I had the feeling that these were two completely different relationships! The two of them saw the situation from almost directly opposite viewpoints. And I was confused!
Years ago, I would have been the panicky one! "How do I 'fix' this?" But I've learned over the years that when I feel confused about a relational issue, I need to step back and take the pressure off myself. This is not my problem -- it's the couple's problem.
As it turns out, by the time the three of us could get together, the two of them had had a long talk together and had resolved many of the issues on their own. It was a good reminder that while I can help people on their journey, they're the ones who really have to do the heavy lifting in the relationship. The pastor who makes other people's problems HIS problem is going to be crushed under the load. My problem is to help my people get through the predicaments of their lives not take them upon me.
By the way, the distinction between a problem -- an issue that has a "solution" -- and a predicament -- a tangle of issues for which there is no one or simple solution -- is a helpful one to maintain. Too often pastors offer "solutions" for predicaments and are frustrated when they don't "work." Predicaments have no solutions. One simply (or not so simply!) works through them toward a resolution.
Years ago, I would have been the panicky one! "How do I 'fix' this?" But I've learned over the years that when I feel confused about a relational issue, I need to step back and take the pressure off myself. This is not my problem -- it's the couple's problem.
As it turns out, by the time the three of us could get together, the two of them had had a long talk together and had resolved many of the issues on their own. It was a good reminder that while I can help people on their journey, they're the ones who really have to do the heavy lifting in the relationship. The pastor who makes other people's problems HIS problem is going to be crushed under the load. My problem is to help my people get through the predicaments of their lives not take them upon me.
By the way, the distinction between a problem -- an issue that has a "solution" -- and a predicament -- a tangle of issues for which there is no one or simple solution -- is a helpful one to maintain. Too often pastors offer "solutions" for predicaments and are frustrated when they don't "work." Predicaments have no solutions. One simply (or not so simply!) works through them toward a resolution.
Friday, August 05, 2005
Competence
I have always maintained that pastors may not feel "qualified" or "capable" of fulfilling the pastoral role, but we can be (by the gifts and power of the Spirit) "competent" to do so. So, for me, overconfidence has never been an issue, though pride has! And there's a huge difference between the two. (And, of course, we will always be more competent in some areas than in others. Wisdom comes in understanding that a great leader has great weaknesses as well as great strengths.)
This issue of competence was brought home to me recently while helping a married couple work through some problems in their marriage. They were in a virtual panic over an issue that had arisen between them. Years ago I might have shared in that panic -- or at least been somewhat bewildered by their situation. But over the course of 30 years of ministry, I've been through this many times, and I felt quite competent to deal with it (I suppose much like a physician who has done a procedure enough times that it becomes second nature). And I believe that my own sense of competence contributed to helping the couple relax and understand that this wasn't the end of their world. In fact, it was -- as I thought it would be -- the beginning of a new and positive phase in their relationship together.
One of the benefits of a long-term pastorate is really getting to know your people and being able to cut through a lot of peripheral issues because of the relationship you've developed with them over the years. Had this couple gone to an anonymous counselor, I suspect it would have taken a lot longer for the three of them to work through the issues. (I'll return to this theme sometime in the future, because I'm convinced that this lack of anonymity between pastor and members is sometimes very helpful and sometimes not!)
This issue of competence was brought home to me recently while helping a married couple work through some problems in their marriage. They were in a virtual panic over an issue that had arisen between them. Years ago I might have shared in that panic -- or at least been somewhat bewildered by their situation. But over the course of 30 years of ministry, I've been through this many times, and I felt quite competent to deal with it (I suppose much like a physician who has done a procedure enough times that it becomes second nature). And I believe that my own sense of competence contributed to helping the couple relax and understand that this wasn't the end of their world. In fact, it was -- as I thought it would be -- the beginning of a new and positive phase in their relationship together.
One of the benefits of a long-term pastorate is really getting to know your people and being able to cut through a lot of peripheral issues because of the relationship you've developed with them over the years. Had this couple gone to an anonymous counselor, I suspect it would have taken a lot longer for the three of them to work through the issues. (I'll return to this theme sometime in the future, because I'm convinced that this lack of anonymity between pastor and members is sometimes very helpful and sometimes not!)
Wednesday, July 20, 2005
Vacation
We're leaving tomorrow on vacation -- and I can't wait! I'm truly ready. But I have to confess that I find vacations difficult. I don't think I'm a workaholic, but I do find it difficult to let go for more than a few days. Even now, despite the fact that my vacation started three days ago, I'm in the office "just checking on things!" God, help me to grasp the reality of the 4th commandment!
Thursday, July 14, 2005
Ministry is suffering
To some degree, I attribute my longevity in our church to a growing understanding of what ministry is all about. As a young man with dreams of large churches and numerical "success," I was devastated by the trials and struggles I faced in ministry -- struggles with my image of ministry, with people under my ministry, and with the circumstances of ministry itself. I was overwhelmed with a sense of inadequacy and failure.
As I have grown as a person and as a pastor, I have come to appreciate that despite all the joys and satisfactions which accompany pastoral ministry and keep me going -- that the call to ministry is at its heart a call to suffer. Jesus commanded us to take up our cross (not a set of golf clubs) and follow Him, so we should not be surprised when we have to trail Him through Gethsemane and Golgotha on the way to the empty tomb.
Sometimes we suffer with our people -- we weep with those who weep. Sometimes we suffer on behalf of our people -- ignoring our admonitions and counsel, they bring grief on themselves, their families, and on us and the church. And sometimes, of course, we suffer from our people -- either from those who directly oppose us or from the "well-intentioned dragons" of which Marshall Shelley so eloquently writes. We neither seek nor enjoy such suffering; but we must grow to understand that it is a normal result of following Jesus. If we do not, it will crush us.
As I started this vocational journey over thirty years ago, I was often encouraged by my deep personal assurance that God had called me into ministry. I sometimes joked with people that I was more sure of my inward call to ministry than I was of my salvation. But as I struggled through some of the great trials of ministry (and through my own personal issues), I found ultimately that it was the confirming outward call which sustained and carried me. Somehow (notwithstanding all my self-doubts and weaknesses) God really was using my ministry in the lives of my people. I began to see those providential events that had brought me here and were keeping me here (despite my best efforts to manipulate them). I came to understand that while I could do many things with the rest of my life, this was the only thing I truly wanted to do.
As I have grown as a person and as a pastor, I have come to appreciate that despite all the joys and satisfactions which accompany pastoral ministry and keep me going -- that the call to ministry is at its heart a call to suffer. Jesus commanded us to take up our cross (not a set of golf clubs) and follow Him, so we should not be surprised when we have to trail Him through Gethsemane and Golgotha on the way to the empty tomb.
Sometimes we suffer with our people -- we weep with those who weep. Sometimes we suffer on behalf of our people -- ignoring our admonitions and counsel, they bring grief on themselves, their families, and on us and the church. And sometimes, of course, we suffer from our people -- either from those who directly oppose us or from the "well-intentioned dragons" of which Marshall Shelley so eloquently writes. We neither seek nor enjoy such suffering; but we must grow to understand that it is a normal result of following Jesus. If we do not, it will crush us.
As I started this vocational journey over thirty years ago, I was often encouraged by my deep personal assurance that God had called me into ministry. I sometimes joked with people that I was more sure of my inward call to ministry than I was of my salvation. But as I struggled through some of the great trials of ministry (and through my own personal issues), I found ultimately that it was the confirming outward call which sustained and carried me. Somehow (notwithstanding all my self-doubts and weaknesses) God really was using my ministry in the lives of my people. I began to see those providential events that had brought me here and were keeping me here (despite my best efforts to manipulate them). I came to understand that while I could do many things with the rest of my life, this was the only thing I truly wanted to do.
Tuesday, July 12, 2005
Great rewards in unexpected places
Listening to a program on public radio this morning reminded me of a wonderful experience I had several years ago. I had been counseling a young woman from the community who (among many other issues) had had an abortion and then later gave birth to a son whom she had given up for adoption. So she was grieving for the child she had lost and for the one she had graciously given up to another family. She desperately wanted to know how her grown son was doing, but because of the adoption arrangements made years before she had no way of contacting him.
Through a series of extraordinary events (that I can only ascribe to God's providence in an Internet age!), this young man (who was also desperately wishing to meet his biological mother) found me and asked if I would put him in touch with his birth mother. Through another equally extraordinary series of events, I was finally able to bring them back together. (When I first saw him, I realized that I could have easily picked him out of a crowd -- he is certainly in his mother's image!) What a privilege for me to be a part of that process!
I wish I could tell you that "they all lived happily ever after." Unfortunately, the young man has had some legal and emotional problems that have brought pain to his family and now to his biological mother. But, even so, she wouldn't trade meeting him and keeping up with him for anything.
There are privileges in being a pastor that other people can't imagine. (Challenges and struggles as well -- but incredible privileges and joys.) And for me, this was one of greatest of my ministry.
Through a series of extraordinary events (that I can only ascribe to God's providence in an Internet age!), this young man (who was also desperately wishing to meet his biological mother) found me and asked if I would put him in touch with his birth mother. Through another equally extraordinary series of events, I was finally able to bring them back together. (When I first saw him, I realized that I could have easily picked him out of a crowd -- he is certainly in his mother's image!) What a privilege for me to be a part of that process!
I wish I could tell you that "they all lived happily ever after." Unfortunately, the young man has had some legal and emotional problems that have brought pain to his family and now to his biological mother. But, even so, she wouldn't trade meeting him and keeping up with him for anything.
There are privileges in being a pastor that other people can't imagine. (Challenges and struggles as well -- but incredible privileges and joys.) And for me, this was one of greatest of my ministry.
Tuesday, July 05, 2005
Fear, anger, and the ministry
I've been thinking about the connection of fear, anger, and depression -- especially in my early (pre-midlife crisis) ministry. So much of my life was driven by fear: fear of failure as a parent and as a pastor; fear of not enough money for the church or for our family (and, obviously, those two are closely related!). And, I believe, that fear led to a lot of anger -- directed primarily at my family (never, at least overtly at church members) and now, I have come to understand at myself (and probably covertly at God -- though only rarely was I able to identify that aspect of it at the time). And, I am now beginning to appreciate, that anger turned inward was probably the primary cause of the severe depressions that I experienced up through my 40th birthday. There were likely some physiological contributors, but I believe that my own unexpressed anger was probably the root cause. And so, as I came out of that awful year of midlife crisis in which I tried so hard to leave the pastoral ministry, I discovered that this is what I truly wanted to do. And that great sense of contentment (as well as my letting go of the inward anger that had so controlled me) led to the "mysterious" disappearance of my depressions. It wasn't really a miracle (though it certainly felt like one!) as much as it was a decision not simply to accept my vocation but to choose it as my will as well as God's. Nor was it simply a coincidence or a growing out of the depression. It grew out of my being willing to rest my full weight on Jesus -- which, if I recall, is my standard way of defining faith!
The obstacles that seemed so fearsome in years gone by are just that -- gone by! And the energy that I consumed in worry was so wasted. But maybe not. Maybe I can look back from time to time on Ebenezer and laugh at myself -- just as surely as God was smiling at my little-faith.
I still have those child-like fears from time to time. But I think I'm learning to look past them and see them not as great mountains but bumps in the road that we'll get over. I will always feel inadequate for the tasks given to me, but I have developed a certain comfort level with what I can do and what I can't, with who I am and who I'm not. It would be nice if I had found that serenity earlier in my life, but I'm not sure that's possible. There's no shortcut to maturity.
The obstacles that seemed so fearsome in years gone by are just that -- gone by! And the energy that I consumed in worry was so wasted. But maybe not. Maybe I can look back from time to time on Ebenezer and laugh at myself -- just as surely as God was smiling at my little-faith.
I still have those child-like fears from time to time. But I think I'm learning to look past them and see them not as great mountains but bumps in the road that we'll get over. I will always feel inadequate for the tasks given to me, but I have developed a certain comfort level with what I can do and what I can't, with who I am and who I'm not. It would be nice if I had found that serenity earlier in my life, but I'm not sure that's possible. There's no shortcut to maturity.
Saturday, July 02, 2005
The Value of a Long Pastorate
Long pastorates (like long marriages) are not much in vogue these days -- nor do they come easily -- but both are wonderfully rewarding. What can be better than seeing the children I have baptized grow up in the Lord, go to school, and then come back to be married? Or to see children who have sat under my ministry grow up and sense God's call to their own ministry? The downside, as I have often said, is that I also have to "live with my mistakes" when it would be so much easier to escape to a different church and let my successor mop up after me.
Long pastorates (particularly in a rural setting where membership turnover is minimal) also lead to a trust between the pastor and members that carries you through stressful times. When we were starting our first building project, a deacon (an older man) said to me, "Why should we do this? You're just going to get us into debt and then leave." As we built our latest addition, the only person who asked if I would be staying around was our banker.
Similarly, when we've gone through the painful work of church discipline, I have been able to draw on a track record of trust and friendship that gives members confidence that their leaders won't act hastily or do something that would bring harm to the body. Even when people don't always understand or agree with hard decisions we have made, they have been able to draw on the reservoir of trust that we've accumulated over the years to carry us through those bumpy times that inevitably come in the life of a church.
Long pastorates (particularly in a rural setting where membership turnover is minimal) also lead to a trust between the pastor and members that carries you through stressful times. When we were starting our first building project, a deacon (an older man) said to me, "Why should we do this? You're just going to get us into debt and then leave." As we built our latest addition, the only person who asked if I would be staying around was our banker.
Similarly, when we've gone through the painful work of church discipline, I have been able to draw on a track record of trust and friendship that gives members confidence that their leaders won't act hastily or do something that would bring harm to the body. Even when people don't always understand or agree with hard decisions we have made, they have been able to draw on the reservoir of trust that we've accumulated over the years to carry us through those bumpy times that inevitably come in the life of a church.
Thursday, June 30, 2005
A Word-Centered Ministry
In my years in my current parish, I have tried to cultivate a Word-centered ministry. My habit, from my first Sunday here, has been to preach through books (or significant portions) of the Bible. I've done that for several reasons:
1) I don't have to lie awake on Sunday nights wondering what I'm going to preach the following Sunday. (I may still lie awake on Sunday nights but not because I'm searching for a text!)
2) It forces me to look at each text in its greater context, and it teaches the congregation to see the inter-relatedness of Scripture.
3) Over time I will regularly confront all the major themes of Scripture rather than just gravitating to my favorites. I have to preach the "hard" texts as well as the obvious ones.
4) It keeps me fresh. During my 25+ years here, I have only repeated four series: Acts, Revelation, Ephesians, and John. As I began each of those four I did so with the idea that I could save myself some time by simply "updating" the old series, and each time I have found that impossible. The texts may be the same, but I am different, my people are different, and the times are different. And so I have the joy of digging afresh into these magnificent texts.
5) Preaching through books enables me to tackle potentially controversial subjects inductively and from a variety of sources. People at our church don't believe in election primarily because it's in the Westminster Confession (though they're grateful for that confirmation) but because Paul and John and Jesus believed it. So I don't generally preach on the topic of election but on Ephesians 1 or Romans 9 in the context of series on those books -- and it's a lot harder to argue with Paul than with me!
6) Finally, it tends to allow listeners to hear the Word itself rather than be turned off by feelings of personal offense. If Mrs. Jones has a problem with gossip and then hears me preaching about gossip, she's more likely to be able to listen to the text rather than take personal offense if she knows that I'm just preaching through James rather than singling her out! (People will often tell me, "That message was just for me," but we both understand that I wasn't trying to pick on just them.)
1) I don't have to lie awake on Sunday nights wondering what I'm going to preach the following Sunday. (I may still lie awake on Sunday nights but not because I'm searching for a text!)
2) It forces me to look at each text in its greater context, and it teaches the congregation to see the inter-relatedness of Scripture.
3) Over time I will regularly confront all the major themes of Scripture rather than just gravitating to my favorites. I have to preach the "hard" texts as well as the obvious ones.
4) It keeps me fresh. During my 25+ years here, I have only repeated four series: Acts, Revelation, Ephesians, and John. As I began each of those four I did so with the idea that I could save myself some time by simply "updating" the old series, and each time I have found that impossible. The texts may be the same, but I am different, my people are different, and the times are different. And so I have the joy of digging afresh into these magnificent texts.
5) Preaching through books enables me to tackle potentially controversial subjects inductively and from a variety of sources. People at our church don't believe in election primarily because it's in the Westminster Confession (though they're grateful for that confirmation) but because Paul and John and Jesus believed it. So I don't generally preach on the topic of election but on Ephesians 1 or Romans 9 in the context of series on those books -- and it's a lot harder to argue with Paul than with me!
6) Finally, it tends to allow listeners to hear the Word itself rather than be turned off by feelings of personal offense. If Mrs. Jones has a problem with gossip and then hears me preaching about gossip, she's more likely to be able to listen to the text rather than take personal offense if she knows that I'm just preaching through James rather than singling her out! (People will often tell me, "That message was just for me," but we both understand that I wasn't trying to pick on just them.)
On Affirmation
In my old office I had two walls worth of books -- and my three diplomas hung beneath each other on a third wall. Somehow, I think, those were signals to me that I had made it, and I wanted people to see them. When we built a new building, I took the diplomas home and gave away nearly half of my books. I had learned during the construction that I hadn't used them and didn't really need them! And I guess I've gotten to the point where my affirmation comes from my people and my ministry, not the trappings of intellectual attainment.
I was thinking tonight (I don'’t know why) of being in the office of one of my seminary profs. On one rather large wall he had hung -- from floor to ceiling across the whole wall -- all of his diplomas and certificates and honors that he had earned over the years (even including an Evangelical Teacher Training certificate!). I thought it was strange -- that at that point in his life and career he needed to display all of his academic (and other) achievements like that. I could understand, maybe, hanging up his PhD diploma -- a lot of profs did that. But he had a couple of dozen framed certificates, all neatly posted with lines painted on the wall behind sort of tying them all together. He was an excellent teacher, but I think a part of him still needed the support of those pieces of paper.
I was thinking tonight (I don'’t know why) of being in the office of one of my seminary profs. On one rather large wall he had hung -- from floor to ceiling across the whole wall -- all of his diplomas and certificates and honors that he had earned over the years (even including an Evangelical Teacher Training certificate!). I thought it was strange -- that at that point in his life and career he needed to display all of his academic (and other) achievements like that. I could understand, maybe, hanging up his PhD diploma -- a lot of profs did that. But he had a couple of dozen framed certificates, all neatly posted with lines painted on the wall behind sort of tying them all together. He was an excellent teacher, but I think a part of him still needed the support of those pieces of paper.
Wednesday, June 29, 2005
Sermon as Art
I have long admired artists because they have a “way of seeing” that the rest of us don’t. I look out and see the world and it’s a mismash of things and colors. Artists look at that same scene and see patterns and textures and are able to translate those into a picture. Sometimes just a few lines are all it takes, and we look at the lines and say, “That’s it!”
I am coming to appreciate that in some small way I have that same “way of seeing” with the Biblical text. Not always, but often enough, I can explore a text and see the patterns and textures that translate into an organized sermon. Sometimes I just have three or four “points,” and that’s OK. But sometimes I really “see” the text — not in any magical or mystical sense — but I see the text almost unfolding before me, and I become the servant of the text rather than its manipulator.
A few weeks ago, I had been reading the text for my sermon on Isaiah 6. Friday night I thought about going over to the office to “get it out of my system,” but I didn’t want to leave my wife alone another evening. So I stayed home. But I didn’t want to forget what was going through my mind, so I stood by my dresser to jot down an outline and ended up drafting the whole sermon. I could hardly write fast enough to keep up with it!
Maybe once a year I have that experience … where a sermon just appears … full blown! It is a very humbling experience because you realize that you truly are a servant of the word. That doesn’t mean there’s no work — the “inspiration” usually comes after a lot of work. It’s more like a “birth” — hard work, but the real work has already been done for you.
I am coming to appreciate that in some small way I have that same “way of seeing” with the Biblical text. Not always, but often enough, I can explore a text and see the patterns and textures that translate into an organized sermon. Sometimes I just have three or four “points,” and that’s OK. But sometimes I really “see” the text — not in any magical or mystical sense — but I see the text almost unfolding before me, and I become the servant of the text rather than its manipulator.
A few weeks ago, I had been reading the text for my sermon on Isaiah 6. Friday night I thought about going over to the office to “get it out of my system,” but I didn’t want to leave my wife alone another evening. So I stayed home. But I didn’t want to forget what was going through my mind, so I stood by my dresser to jot down an outline and ended up drafting the whole sermon. I could hardly write fast enough to keep up with it!
Maybe once a year I have that experience … where a sermon just appears … full blown! It is a very humbling experience because you realize that you truly are a servant of the word. That doesn’t mean there’s no work — the “inspiration” usually comes after a lot of work. It’s more like a “birth” — hard work, but the real work has already been done for you.
Friday, June 24, 2005
Church "fads" come and go
Of course, not all of these are "fads" in the negative sense. Many have made substantial contributions to the church. But, all too often, someone comes along and has "success" in his church with one approach or another, and suddenly that becomes THE way to do church. Here are a few that I've seen over the years: small group ministry (relational theology, Faith at Work, Keith Miller and Bruce Larson, etc.), Body Life and spiritual gifts (Ray Stedman, etc.), Evangelism Explosion (James Kennedy), church growth (Donald McGavran, et al), one-to-one discipling (the Navs, etc.), counseling ministry, 12-Step groups, contemporary worship, seeker-sensitive services, the health and wealth gospel, positive (or possibility) thinking.
The wise pastor will learn from the best and ignore the worst but will not be blown about by every wind of change in the church. I've learned that I'm pretty good at some things and pretty mediocre at others. And one of the benefits of maturity is that I am more and more comfortable both with what I can do and with what I can't do. That doesn't mean that I've stopped growing as a person and as a pastor, but I've chosen to build on my strengths rather than trying to shore up all my weaknesses. And I've learned to be more comfortable with my own personality and that of my church, so that I don't have to imitate the latest trend that's working somewhere else.
The wise pastor will learn from the best and ignore the worst but will not be blown about by every wind of change in the church. I've learned that I'm pretty good at some things and pretty mediocre at others. And one of the benefits of maturity is that I am more and more comfortable both with what I can do and with what I can't do. That doesn't mean that I've stopped growing as a person and as a pastor, but I've chosen to build on my strengths rather than trying to shore up all my weaknesses. And I've learned to be more comfortable with my own personality and that of my church, so that I don't have to imitate the latest trend that's working somewhere else.
Thursday, June 23, 2005
Every church isn't a prospect for a long pastorate
Not every church (nor every pastor) is a good prospect for a long-term ministry. A friend of mine, a veterinarian, tells me that vets typically graduate from school, take a job somewhere for a couple of years where they make all kinds of mistakes, and then move far away to start their REAL practice! That was not unlike my own experience! I graduated from seminary (and then took a private-sector job for a year to give me time to return to the "real world") and accepted a position as a church planter (I don't recommend anyone trying to start a church fresh out of seminary, but that's another topic for another day!). I had a terrible time and began even to doubt my calling as a pastor. After nearly three years, I bailed out and returned to seminary for a ThM (the subject field didn't matter; I just needed a face-saving way to leave that church!). But now I've been at my second church for nearly 30 years!
While my normal counsel to fellow pastors who are having problems is to "stick it out," I don't always advise it. Particularly in first churches, pastors may need to move on. Or when you've lost the confidence of your leadership. It's one thing to have differences with people, it's another to lose their confidence. When that happens, you both probably need a change.
While my normal counsel to fellow pastors who are having problems is to "stick it out," I don't always advise it. Particularly in first churches, pastors may need to move on. Or when you've lost the confidence of your leadership. It's one thing to have differences with people, it's another to lose their confidence. When that happens, you both probably need a change.
Monday, June 20, 2005
Welcome to the Long Term Pastor Blog
Having spent over 25 years at a single church, I thought it would be interesting to explore the significance of a long-term pastorate -- upon the pastor and the people. I will be posting comments along the way and welcome your responses.
My own experience has been in a small-town rural setting, and so that will color my comments. But I hope others from different situations will add their own insights.
My own experience has been in a small-town rural setting, and so that will color my comments. But I hope others from different situations will add their own insights.
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