Measuring success in ministry

After years of struggle, I found the way.

Steve Willsey, D.Min., is associate pastor for pastoral care and spiritual formation, Spencerville Seventh-day Adventist Church, Silver Spring, Maryland.

When I decided to leave the position of senior pastor of one church to become associate pastor of another, my friends thought I was seriously jeopardizing my career. The decision was quite out of character for me; at least, it would have been a few years ago. My life and interests had changed, though; I now had a good idea of who I really was and how I could best use the gifts God has given me. The story of how ambition drove me to succeed might be a shock for members who want to believe their pastors are driven by much purer motives. I hope my story is unique.

From very early in life I set my goal on achieving success. For me that meant becoming a highly respected and well-paid leader. As a boy growing up, I remember dreaming of being elected president of the United States. When I graduated from the seminary, my goals changed to suit my profession, but I still intended to climb as far and as fast as I could in the church's hierarchy. In due time I expected I would pastor a large congregation and from that position be appointed to the conference staff, eventually to become conference president. I even secretly hoped to become General Conference president, to crown a distinguished career. I thought I knew some of the requirements: accumulation of a good baptism record, surpassing my yearly Ingathering and Signs goals, and general recognition as an innovative but loyal pastor.

Success and status

A major step toward the accomplishment of the plan came one year after leaving the seminary. I accepted a call to serve as secretary-treasurer of an overseas mission. After five years, while on furlough, I was elected mission president. I was pleased and began planning the innovations I would introduce to force growth and gain the respect I coveted.

My excitement was short-lived. The government of that newly independent, Marxist-leaning country was incensed that the Adventists would appoint a foreigner as leader of the church. Eventually I was forced to admit that my leadership there would not be in the best interests of the church. My new assignment was to pastor two churches. My wife says I was depressed for the first six months after that change.

When we took our permanent return to the United States, my pursuit of success began in earnest. I was only in my mid-30s, and there was plenty of time to earn the esteem of "the brethren" and achieve my goals. I had already established work habits that kept me away from home for long hours. Now I developed a full-blown case of workaholism. Programs of all kinds were introduced in my church in order to make sure we had the highest records in the conference.

As I reflect on those years, I wonder how the congregation tolerated all that I forced on them. For the most part they accepted my leadership and embraced my plans. Maybe they also had delusions of grandeur. Or could it possibly be that they were motivated by a commitment to the gospel commission? I am indebted to all those members for their kind forbearance.

Our monthly ministers' meetings at the conference office were, for me, opportunities for being noticed. If the conference president gave me a pat on the back, I took that as a sign of acceptance. Being asked to have a part on the day's program, however insignificant, was registered as an edge on my equally aspiring colleagues. I coveted the position of the "fair-haired" young men who were regularly recognized for some outstanding achievement. When I was honored, I felt euphoric; if I were ignored, I left the meetings fighting depression.

After three years in my first stateside pastorate, I had not been elected to anything in the conference office, and began to wonder if something was wrong. A call came to pastor in a small Midwest conference. I telephoned a friend who had already made it into the office, and asked his advice. "It will be easier if you are in a smaller conference where there aren't as many competing for the positions," he said. It seemed a bit too risky, but because the counsel came from someone I admired, I accepted the call.

Since the new congregation was one of the larger churches in that small conference, its pastor automatically had a seat on the conference committee and the academy board. I found committee meetings stimulating. My gut feeling was that I was about to achieve what had been predestined for me. Imagine the fulfillment I felt when the conference president sat down with me during camp pitch one day and asked me to consider moving to headquarters as a departmental director. It didn't take long to be convinced I was needed.

Unfortunately for me, before the committee was asked to vote, the union president proposed to his local conference leaders that it was high time for some mergers to take place in order to use the available resources better. At dizzying speed our union merged with another, and several local conferences, including mine, merged as well. Now there were too many departmental directors for the available positions, and I was eliminated from any consideration; in fact, my conference president would soon need to move.

When a call came to leave that conference and become pastor of a higher visibility church on the East Coast, I needed little persuasion to accept. Early in my ministry in that church, however, a transformation began in my life that forced a reexamination of my priorities. Up until that time spiritual security for me was in good works.

In this there was no personal assurance, of course, and I had a rather negative image of God. The Spirit had been gradually wooing me away from "works righteousness." It was a sense of dissatisfaction He had planted that made me ready for God's message when He spoke, as if in a Damascus road experience. "Your good works will never be enough," I heard Him say. "Salvation is in what I did at Calvary, not in what you do."

Assurance at last

Assurance washed over my anxious spirit. I realized a satisfaction and peace that had evaded me for decades. Changes came fairly quickly in my understanding of God, the role of the church, and even ministry style. My ego-centered ambition was not completely checked, but looking back now, I can see that the Spirit had a complete reformation in mind.

Later, when I read about the importance of "being" rather than always "doing," I knew the Spirit had chosen that message for me. Seldom had I ever considered Bible study, meditation, and prayer as appropriate to be included in my daily pastoral schedule. Though I did begin the day with a period of Bible study and prayer, my devotional habit did not lend itself to any real opening to God. To lay aside my busy daily schedule for being with God did not occur to me to be productive work.

As my image of God changed, a desire developed to know Him better. "Remain in me, and I will remain in you" (John 15:4, NIV) became a commitment I intended to take seriously. Attempting to maintain the balance be tween being and doing was not easy, but I began to have less and less guilt when I gave attention to my own spiritual journey, even during the most productive hours of the day. I also learned that one of my most important needs was to spend time regularly in intercessory prayer, which was difficult because of the activist I had always been.

New discoveries

Along with an attention to spiritual development, opportunities came for discoveries about myself that had been hidden before. At a conference-sponsored conflict management workshop I learned that my style was to search for ways to create harmony. Confrontation made me uneasy, which is why chairing church board meetings had always been a particularly burdensome task. After some introspection it occurred to me that I enjoyed the pastoral aspects of my ministry much more than the administrative functions. Visiting members in their homes, where I could offer encouragement and give spiritual guidance, brought great fulfillment.

If I were to be true to my self-discovery, I would have to give up the notion that success was measured by the amount of power and recognition I had achieved. Downward mobility did not make a great deal of sense in the world I had known, but my values were changing. I was still struggling to maintain a balance between being and doing. My work habits produced guilt if I were not constantly active, but I was beginning to develop a new rhythm that I intended to nurture with the hope that I would soon be at peace.

The idea of a change in position began to interest me. About that time I was working on a project for a degree. The project involved developing a model for a pastor to use in introducing the spiritual disciplines that enhance one's relationship with the Lord. I had thoroughly enjoyed the project and was wishing to use my model in a new kind of ministry. Perhaps I needed to look for a position as an associate pastor, in which I could specialize in those areas of ministry that best suited ray gifts and temperament.

Expecting that a change to an associate pastorship would require a move of some distance, my wife and I were beginning to think of the pain of pulling up our roots of 10 years. God had a big surprise in mind. For 10 years we had ministered to an urban congregation while living in the suburbs. God's surprise was the opportunity to join a team ministry just two miles from where we lived. A suburban church had been experiencing spectacular growth over the recent years. I was interviewed and called. From the moment we entered the doors of that church we felt at home.

My dream of success has been realized. I feel completely fulfilled in my role as a pastoral caregiver, doing those things that I enjoy most. My work is no less strenuous; in fact, the hours are some times longer, however, the satisfaction is much greater. It is much different from what I had planned earlier in my life, and it fits better the values of the minister I have come to be since God revealed Himself as the loving and accepting Saviour I had not known before.

 


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Steve Willsey, D.Min., is associate pastor for pastoral care and spiritual formation, Spencerville Seventh-day Adventist Church, Silver Spring, Maryland.

January 1996

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