In 2014 I will be in my twenty-second year of service to the Lord. I spent more than half of this time as a pastor, initially as a youth pastor for a few teenagers in a church of ten adult members, then as an associate pastor in a church of nearly one hundred members - this is a huge church by Italian standards. For the last ten years I've been the lead pastor in a church of... well, in a church whose numbers ebb and flow like the annual wine production from the vineyards surrounding the hilltop town where it was planted.
There are years where the harvest is plentiful, but the quality is not the best, the bouquet of scents does not bind to create a good glass of wine, and the aftertaste is a little bitter. Other years, however, the product is scarce, but the flavour is superb, the bouquet is full, with a full-bodied aftertaste that remains in your mouth for hours after drinking it (you've figured out that I like a good glass of wine, right?).
But, inevitably, in any season, whether the product is abundant or scarce, whether the taste is mediocre or superb, you get to a stage where fatigue sets in, or there is the desire to dismantle everything and start over again, or worse, the need to escape from the stress of tilling a land that had seen neither hoe nor spade for so long.
It can come over you at the end of a service in response to a comment on your sermon: "... but I heard others think differently..." with the person quoting dozens of web pages consulted on the subject of your sermon. Or during a church meeting in the form of a “creative” suggestion for the life of the community ... that would move in completely the opposite direction of where you are trying to lead your congregation. It can be the comment from the new attender who came last Sunday, asking you whether it is possible to modify the service so that it will more closely resemble the church he attended up to three weeks ago, or by an established member of your congregation, who suddenly discovers he - or she- "...no longer feels loved...”.
What do you do on such occasions, in addition to using your wife as a "shoulder" to cry on in your frustration? During these times it is nice to find others who can tell you they walked the same winding roads, went up and down the same stairs, pulled the same wagon ...
What follows is a brief reflection that encouraged me, made me smile .. . and put into perspective why I'm doing what I'm doing, and on whom everything depends.
I offer it to all my fellow pastors, for whom I have tremendous love and admiration. But also to all church members, so that they may reflect and understand that, behind the pulpit, there are no supermen ... but simply men who have been called to the ministry and that, one day, must give an account to Jesus .
"Have confidence in your leaders and submit to their authority, because they keep watch over you as those who must give an account. Do this so that their work will be a joy, not a burden, for that would be of no benefit to you. " (Hebrews 13:17 NIV)
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The painful truths are usually the ones that best aid growth. These five truths about yourself as a pastor are painful to realize but will help you grow as a pastor and as a person.
1. You are not the best pastor out there.
I hate to be the one to break it to you, but name a pastoral skill (e.g., preaching, discipleship, administration) and you can find another pastor out there who’s better at it than you. And that’s okay. You’re not trying to be better than Pastor So-and-so (at least I hope you’re not), you’re trying to be the best you can be with what God has given you so you can serve the congregation where God has placed you.
2. Not everyone likes you or will like you.
I know you think you’re just lovable. Maybe you are and maybe you aren’t. Some people hate Teddy Bears and Mr. Rogers but lots of people like Lady Gaga. My point is, as wonderful as you are, some people just aren’t going to connect with you, like you, be able to follow you. That’s okay. As long as those people continue on to find a place where they can serve and don’t stir up trouble there, let them go with God and don’t bind yourself to their opinion of you.
3. You don’t know everything.
I sure wish I didn’t have to tell you this. If you have seminary training then your area of expertise is ministry, theology, or biblical studies, or a combination of those. In seminary my recognized area of expertise was systematic theology (I’m a systems thinker). This was validated by the faculty award I received at graduation. I have been trained in the other areas, however, and that along with my experience both in ordained ministry and as a layman means that I can speak with confidence as somewhat of an expert in those areas.
Sometimes I am able to speak outside these areas. I was in management at a large mortgage operations center before getting into ministry so I can speak to some aspects of business life. I can talk about which copy machine company we should use because I use the copy machine and have been responsible for the machines in my department when I was in the business world.
In other areas I must defer to other peoples’ judgment. I know nothing about roofing so my opinion is pretty much useless when it comes to which roofer we should contract with to re-roof the church building. Ditto on a company to repave the parking lot. I don’t know what is wrong with the air conditioner. I cannot tell you where you should invest your retirement funds (I have a guy and I’ll recommend him but other than that…).
And, you know what? I don’t have to know those things. The church didn’t call me because I was a reliable air conditioner repairman; they called me to serve as pastor. As long as I’m the best I can be at that, everything will be fine. If the church is looking for something more or different, then they have unrealistic expectations.
4. There are people in your church who can do some things better than you.
This is similar to the previous point but hits a little closer to home. There are probably people in your church that are better than you are even at things like discipleship, evangelism, pastoral care, and other areas of church ministry. There are two ways you can respond to this. (1) You can be jealous, let ego get in the way, and refuse to let these people use their gifts to serve the church, serve the Lord, and make your life and ministry easier and better, or (2) You can be grateful God has sent someone to serve the church by making up for areas in which you are weak.
If this is all about you, then do the first, but if you’ve realized that this is about Christ and his church, then your only reasonable response is gratefulness that the body of Christ is being helped.
5. As gracious as you think you are with your people, sometimes they’re just as gracious with you.
I know people can be difficult. (Please believe me when I say, “I know.” I really do.) But sometimes you can be difficult, too. This is just a fact and you know it’s true (don’t pretend it’s not).
If you serve your people well and love them with Christ’s love, most of them will love you back. (The ones that don’t you must still love and serve but you must leave them to the Lord.) When your people love you back, they will put up with your less-than-stellar behavior as well.
I am notoriously cranky. I’m more than half a curmudgeon anyway but sometimes I just plain get cranky. I try not to be and I’ve had to apologize more than once for my crankiness, but they’ve always loved me in spite of it. I know that they’re being gracious with me simply because they love me and it’s even easier to love them back.
Their love for me in return just confirms that I am where God wants me to be.
Michael Jones - Pastor of Zion Baptist Church in Taylor, MI (USA) for pastors.com
---Being a pastor, an elder, a leader, or whatever you call your position in your church, according to its denomination, is a mixture of honor and hard work, joy and sorrow, discouragement and excitement. And the key to success is not measured by the number of chairs that you can fill (although numbers count, since numbers represent saved people), but in fulfilling to the utmost what God has commanded you to do, remembering that you're not a superman, but just a normal man (if they pierce you, you too will bleed), with your limits, your hang-ups, your weaknesses, but also your gifts and talents, your strengths and abilities based on past experiences.
As long as you give the best of yourself, not to show off, but to serve, you will be safe, despite the tiredness, the discouragement and doubts (which are the source on which you can build certainties in the future).
And you will find that the bouquet of wine produced by the vineyard where you're working has always, without fail, whether in years of abundance or scarcity, the superb and perfect flavour of Him who has called you to serve.
"Be shepherds of God’s flock that is under your care, watching over them—not because you must, but because you are willing, as God wants you to be; not pursuing dishonest gain, but eager to serve; not lording it over those entrusted to you, but being examples to the flock. And when the Chief Shepherd appears, you will receive the crown of glory that will never fade away." (1 Peter 5:2-4 NIV)
