In preparation for a Thanksgiving service, I did some reflecting on my spiritual riches in Christ. Part of those riches is my calling to serve as a local church pastor. I am 65 years old, and I’ve been at it now for 40 years. Here are those reflections …
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On a June morning in 1974, on the grounds of Baptist
Hill Camp in Mt. Vernon, Missouri, God laid his hand on my shoulder and called
me to preach. God has never been more real to me either before or since that
moment when he called me to preach. I was heading to the University that
August, and preaching was not on my list of possible careers. I wasn't closed
to the idea of preaching, but I wasn't looking for it either and had never even
considered it. God surprised me with the calling. My salvation came like the
dawn. My calling like lightning bolt.
And it’s been an interesting way to make a living. I
have been a pastor for 62% of my life and on a church staff for longer than
that. Since 1975, I’ve been on a church payroll. and it’s been a pretty cushy
gig to only work on Sundays. Not! In all honesty, it’s been a lot of work, much
of it hard work. I’ve prepared and preached a gazillion sermons. I’ve had
countless teaching opportunities in and out of the church. Had the privilege to
adjunct in “Theological Field Education” at Midwestern Seminary in the late 80s
and early 90s. Had the joy to adjunct at Ouachita Baptist University and teach “The
Story of the Bible” and “Bible Interpretation” a few times. I can’t imagine how
many hours I’ve spent in preparation of sermons, lessons, funerals, and
weddings. Some of the time flew by, some moved like molasses. Hard work, but I’ve
loved almost every minute of it.
But preparation and speaking are only a piece of the
work. I’ve been invited into some of the worst nightmares people experience—divorce,
sudden death, suicide, bankruptcy, mental illness, alcoholism, child and
spousal abuse, depression, life and death decisions, infant death, AIDS, all
kinds of cancers, life-changing accidents, jail cells, Covid, you name it. None
of this is easy, and I have never felt “up” to any of it. But I’ve never
engaged any of it alone either: Jesus went before me, stood by me, and left his
fragrance behind me.
But by the same token, I’ve had the joy of performing
marriages, celebrating the birth of children, and marking blessed milestones in
people’s lives. I’ve had the privilege of preaching the gospel on 5 continents,
the pleasure here, near the end of my fulltime ministry, to write a couple of
books to share some of what I have learned across the decades about being a
pastor and preacher. And nothing’s much better than leading people to Christ,
baptizing them, and watching them grow into a daily walk with the Lord. Few
things are more satisfying than watching people who have pretty much been
Sunday-focused, church-only Christians most of their lives become Jesus-centered,
24/7, serve-God-with-joy Christ-followers for the rest of their lives. I’ve
also had the joy to help two churches in these 40 years get a vision, grow, get
on world-wide mission, start new ministries, build buildings, and get out of
debt. I’ve worked with some gifted staff members and some of God’s choicest
volunteer servants anywhere who all made me look way better than I am.
Sometimes I really like my job, and sometimes I wouldn’t
give you a plug nickel for it. The constant deadlines and pressure to produce
sermons and ministry and leadership is wearing over time. There are seasons
when I wonder if what I do makes any more difference than I’d make by putting
my finger in a bucket water and pulling it out again. There are times when I
get discouraged and tired and burdened, times when I question my leadership and
wonder what God was thinking when he called me to do this and what I was thinking
when I said yes. Most times I feel so unworthy and so inadequate in this
ministry. Sometimes I’m depleted and exhausted by it all. Twenty months of Covid
issues hasn’t helped. And now I just feel old and wonder how much longer I can sustain
this pace.
Yet in the trying times, Jesus comes to me. He lifts me
up. He gives me strength. He puts folks around me to offer prayer and
encouragement. He gathers up the dry, dusty straw of my heart, kneels beside
it, scratches a couple of sticks together, blows the wind of his Spirit on it,
and once again ignites his fire in my heart. He reminds me how helpless and
hopeless I am apart from him. That he is the vine and I’m but a branch. Without
him I am nothing. And he gets me on my feet again. And he reaffirms the calling
he put on my life that summer day in 1974. I’ve doubted my capacity to be a
good pastor numerous times, but I’ve never doubted my call to be a pastor for a
single second. Jesus reminds me of that. He reminds me that we’re in this
together, that he has been with me in this since day one, and that he will be
with me all the way home.
So in this season of thanksgiving, I thank God today for
the riches of my calling. I give thanks for my health and longevity. I give
thanks that Jesus has never abandoned me for an instant. And I give thanks that
my labor in the Lord is not in vain. I can’t imagine doing anything else. A
prayer attributed to Martin Luther has been my prayer all along:
Oh Lord God, Thou
hast made me a pastor and teacher in the church. Thou seest how unfit I am to
administer rightly this great responsible office; and had I been without Thy
aid and counsel I would have surely ruined it long ago. Therefore do I invoke
Thee.
How gladly do I
desire to yield and consecrate my heart and mouth to this ministry. I desire to
teach the congregation. I, too, desire to ever learn and to keep Thy Word my
constant companion and to meditate thereupon earnestly.
Use me as Thy
instrument in Thy service. Only do not Thou forsake me, for if I am left to
myself, I will certainly bring it all to destruction. Amen.
