NEARLY five years ago, after sixteen years in the ministry of our church, I faced a serious decision. Should I continue ray work of pastoral, evangelistic, and revival work, or should I leave the ministry that I enjoyed and loved?
Why did I face this decision? I was offered another type of work. Was it for more money, better hours, easier work? No. None of these incentives were present. In fact, my wages were cut. All the fringe benefits were gone, and the hours were more heavily loaded with work, plus more work hours per day than I had before.
However, in spite of all of these draw backs it still appealed to me. But I couldn't make the decision alone.
I needed time to think, to pray, to face myself, and God. I talked to my Friend about it all. Somehow I felt that He approved of this choice to leave the ministry of my church, His church. I felt that He was encouraging me to do this.
You may be interested to know the type of work I was considering. I suppose it could be called farmwork—taking care of sheep—mostly the lambs. Perhaps it was because I was born on a farm and had spent my early years on a farm that influenced me.
When my minister friends heard of my decision they sadly shook my hand and their heads with the remark, "We're so sorry you've decided to leave the ministry." It didn't help much when conference officials even on a union conference level offered the same sympathy with that condescending smile that said so much and cut so deeply. It hurt because my best Friend, my Saviour approved of it, while these, my ministering brethren, treated it as a joke.
Since I Left the Ministry
The new work hasn't been easy. I've faced heartaches. The work load has been much heavier than before. I've had to be up at five-forty-five nearly every morning and remain up until midnight (sometimes later). It has meant being separated from most of my ministering brethren, whose friendship I had enjoyed.
My new responsibilities have been misunderstood by many people. Why should any person decide to leave the ministry? Why should I leave a position as conference revivalist, a work so full of satisfaction, so rich with experiences of God's leading and blessing, to engage in that work on the farm of taking care of lambs?
Let me put it this way. When you travel from place to place and you see your Friend's lambs shifting for themselves, with so few who seem to care enough to do something for them—in the language of today, "it just grabs you." When you see these lambs become the property of the Friend who died for you and for them, you just get "shook up" so that you aren't the same.
"Only a Bible Teacher"
Perhaps I'd better explain—I'm "only a Bible teacher" in one of our boarding academies. That's the way I've heard it from lay people and ministering brethren alike. I've pondered many times—going home from counseling at one or two o'clock in the morning—"only a Bible teacher." "Left the ministry."
I've thought of it at five-forty-five in the morning—the next morning—as I tried to awaken to face another day—"left the ministry!" I've thought about it during the day, meeting class appointments, talking to students about their problems, helping them to try to understand why their pastors don't seem to care, why their parents don't seem to care enough to try to understand.
I've wondered about these "lambs" who sometimes are in danger of being "run over" by the big machinery of the organization—-doesn't anyone care enough to give some individual care to each one?
My Saviour said to one of His ordained men, "When thou art converted, strengthen thy brethren." Then after his conversion His Master's first assignment was "feed my lambs." Did I have to leave the ministry to reach this exalted position of trust?
Did I have to leave the ministry to teach these wonderful youth, brought up in the church, of the Master's promise found in James 5:13-15? Many of these "lambs" have never heard that their Lord loved them enough to offer complete healing from a weak heart or a diseased body.
Did I have to leave the ministry to teach these youth (for the first time in their lives) that Jesus loves them enough to die to save them as individuals? They come to us completely bewildered, frustrated over sinful habits or experiences, wondering "how can we find peace?" What a joy I've had since I left the ministry in seeing them relax and blossom out in the Saviour's tender love.
Worth It?
"Left the ministry?" I had seriously thought of it many years before, but some how hadn't made the decision.
Now after five years "outside of the ministry" I look back and wonder, "Have I done the right thing? Was it worth it?" From deep within my heart comes that satisfying response given by my Employer, my Lord and Master: "Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these . . . , ye have done it unto me."
Then only joy floods my soul. Even though the fringe benefits were forfeited, in spite of the salary cut, in spite of the wagging heads and tongues of my friends, my Master says, "It is the nicest work ever committed to men."
With this approval of Heaven, plus the looks of love from the eyes of "my lambs," I feel completely satisfied and repaid for having left the ministry.
P.S. Since I left the ministry some of the fringe benefits have been added to the pay of those who are "just Bible teachers." However, we are still not "in."
