In Defense of Pastors

As I was waiting in my cart to start the afternoon flight of the Wounded Warrior Golf Tournament, I overheard a guy in the cart next to mine going off on pastors.  The man’s partner said he heard that in the morning flight a pastor hit an incredibly long drive.  That’s all it took to set the man off.  “Well, I’m not surprised!” he said.  “Pastors don’t do a d--- thing.  All they have to do is write one little sermon a week, do nothing the rest of the time, and get paid a six-figure salary.  No wonder he hit a good shot, pastors can play all the golf they want.”

Now I can take a joke and we pastors do bring some of this on ourselves.  But this was no joke.  The guy hates pastors (maybe for reasons I don't know). Still, his comments pushed my buttons.  To show how far I have yet to go in my walk with Jesus, I wanted to leap from my cart, look down on this little man, and talk to this man like God talked to Job at the end of the that Bible book.  “You don’t know what the heck you’re talking about!”  (Notice I said “heck.”  I have made some progress, I guess—though “heck” was not the word in my mind.)  And that would just be the first salvo: 

Listen, Jack, do you know any pastors personally?  Have you ever walked in a pastor’s shoes?  Do you know what it’s like to try and come up with something fresh to say to a congregation, not once a week, but at least twice and sometimes three or more times a week in those ‘little’ sermons you rant about?  Does your job keep you up to your neck in death and dying?  Do you know what it’s like to have to tell a mom and dad their wonderful young son with his whole life ahead of him was killed in a car wreck?  Have you ever had to stand over the graves and before the families of people you dearly love and stuff your own grief so you can try to say something meaningful to comfort a family in their grief?  Answer me if you know.  

Have you ever had to lead a large organization that runs primarily on the backs of volunteers?  Have you ever managed an organization that depends on un-coerced giving from willing people to provide the financial resources to run that organization and fund its mission?  Does your family have to live in a fishbowl knowing that people watch your lives intently and knowing that if you ever stray from the path even a little bit, many will call you a hypocrite, and others will recommend that you lose your job?  Have you ever spent so much time trying to rescue the failing marriages of others that you put your own marriage in jeopardy?  How many times have you had to bring your family home too early from a scheduled vacation because duty called?  How do you answer these questions, little man?  

Do you have to deal with being put on a pedestal you do not want and wrestle with the fact that people think you're a better man than you know yourself to be?  Do you ever worry in your job that you will get glory that belongs only to God?  Do you regularly have people ask you life’s most difficult questions, expect you to have definitive answers, and are very disappointed in you when you don’t?  Did you ever work in a situation where hundreds of people think they’re your boss and feel free to criticize you anytime they want?  Is eternity at stake in what you do for a living?  Do you often work for weeks at a time without a full day off?  Well, do you, punk? 

I’m sorry, but stuff like this not only brings out my inner God-to-Job side, it brings out my inner Clint Eastwood too.  That’s what I wanted to say.  But I didn’t say it.  And it’s not because I was afraid to say it.  It’s because it was Monday afternoon, I am a pastor, I make more money than I deserve, and I was on the golf course.  That alone would have confirmed everything the guy thinks about pastors … unless he could have seen me play … or unless he could spend a week or two in my shoes—and not just my shoes, but the shoes of many, many pastors that I know.

So can I just say a good word in defense of pastors today?  Sure, we have our share of jerks and phonies in the pack, and even the best pastors are very human and have their flaws.  But in spite of that, pastors are a pretty good breed all in all.  Most pastors work very hard.  Most pastors and their families love God deeply and love His church sacrificially.  Most pastors put up with long hours, more than their share of cheap shots from their critics, more stress than non-pastors would ever understand, and much less pay than they could get in the business world.  But get this (and this is what really makes a pastor a pastor): these guys and gals wouldn’t give up their work for anything.  They don’t do it for money.  They don’t do it for applause.  They don’t do it for personal advancement.  They do it because God called them to do it.  They do it as a life-offering to God.  They endure the struggles and give thanks for the joys.  They seek to do it hand-in-hand with Jesus.  And in spite of the inherent obstacles and problems involved in being a pastor, they consider it the greatest privilege and the greatest job in the world.