Ministry is to minister

An honest, realistic and encouraging view of everyday life in ministry

Allen Davis is a pseudonym.

At times it amazes me that I've reached such an advanced age without learning some basic life lessons! But there are times when the Holy Spirit does lead us "into all truth" even though feeling the impact of truth can be more than a little painful.

It's all quite easy as long as I relegate the Holy Spirit's revelational role to clarifying some concept of doctrinal correctness, especially if it is targeted at somebody else's spurious view of Scripture. I find that comfortable, and better still, a tool that I can use to my advantage. But, when the Lord directs His light upon the flaws of my inward fabric, I tend to twist and squirm.

Recently He did it again. Someday I'm going to learn.

Learning my lessons—real ones

During the last several months I've found myself heading down a rather well-worn emotional path. I became involved in discussions regarding several professional positions that were open and which seemed attractive to me, only to have them all come to naught. I'd either get a "call out of the blue" dealing with one or another of these attractive situations, or I'd actually get a little proactive and see what I could do to get my name into the mix of consideration. Each episode turned into an exercise in futility.

As I faced the frustrating fruitlessness of things, growing out of my sense of personal rejection, I found myself reverting to some childish self-preoccupations. These would reveal themselves in moments of woundedness when I would dejectedly think about how it was that no one really understood my needs and my gifts, and how very much I'd like to be given the chance to...whatever.

I also found that if I allowed myself the luxury of self-pity long enough, I'd start to feel twinges of resentment. That's the sort of thing that happens when I start taking an inventory of how hard I work, how much I give, and how no one seems to notice.

Once in a while, in moments of lucidity, I'd remember an experience told to me by a very dear friend of mine, who had advanced into a high administrative position in the church. He and I had a mutual friend who had given years of his life to the pastorate, but unknown to me had grown bitter when he was passed over for positions he felt he should have had. He had been looking at my first friend and his administrative advancement. Watching his "progress" through the years, he had become jealous because he came to feel that those kinds of opportunities always seemed to leave him standing where he was.

I was determined that I'd never become bitter. I was determined I'd not take stock of the colleagues with whom I went to college, assessing where they were in the pecking order, compared with me. Yet, in spite of my best intentions, I recently found myself again taking an accounting of my efforts and the apparent lack of measurable "returns," the ones that I "always" seemed to experience.

Ministry is wonderful, but ...

Now, don't get me wrong. In sane moments I know that ministry is the sweetest thing I've ever been given, no matter the role I'm fulfilling or the "level" on which I find myself. I know I'm genuinely privileged to have what I have, and to do what I do.

I pastor a church where 90 percent of my members truly appreciate what I do for them, and where only 10 percent think I'm the antichrist! That's worth something, isn't it? (The trouble is, I'm just as human as the next pastor. . . . Nine sincere "thank yous" for my investment in my people always gets short-circuited by the one sincere saint who says of my sermon, "Well, that was different . . ." or worse.)

A wise colleague of mine once observed that ministry is the only profession in the world where the folks for whom you discharge your task all believe that they are outshining experts in your field of specialization. This truth finds a way of surfacing all too frequently in my case, and rattling me just a little.

Don't get me wrong. In cogent moments I know I'm indeed a man most blessed by the fact that God has entrusted pastoral ministry into my hands. The truth is that I'm in a situation where very little of what I do is as excitingly fulfilling to me in the kinds of ways some might expect it to be. Preaching is preaching, whatever the level. Teaching is teaching, whether to a few or multitudes.

The thing is, ministry as a profession is not a 60-hour week of preaching and teaching. That would be exciting, but it's not the daily reality I face. Some of ministry is just simple giving in the arena that meets the needs of my congregation, whether it's my ideal life agenda or not.

The Spirit's shattering insight

Thankfully, as I said, the Holy Spirit recently found a way to painfully shake my heart and my head. The quakings caused by the Spirit came in the wake of a direct question: "Has it ever crossed your mind that ministry means 'ministry' as in 'to minister'? It's not about you!"

How did I get this old without really putting it together that way?

Please know that I really do believe that a gracious Lord intends to give us the best in life, but the truth is that Jesus never once looked to heaven and said, "Hey, I'm not getting much out of this for myself. Where's my reward? What's going on here anyway?" .

I'm not joking. That's the big insight for this period of my life.

"Ministry means 'ministry' as in 'to minister.'" It's not about me, my needs, my attainments, my reputation, or my fulfillment. I'm paid for the privilege that allows me to minister, and to do it well. That's it. I'm not paid to expend my energies in self-promotion or in self-fulfillment. In this context it's also true that ministry after this order doesn't leave room for the jealousies or woundedness that may come down the road of disappointed ambition or trivial criticism.

But I must ask again, How did I get this far without the Holy Spirit being able to lead me into this truth?

There's one more confession....I'm not a little nervous. A large enough piece of me is afraid that the Lord is soon going to push things further, asking me to define love in its mature, incarnational sense!


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Allen Davis is a pseudonym.

January 2003

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