My father’s voice saved me from the nightmare.
What a nightmare it was! Wherever I turned I saw numbers—ahead of me, to my left and right, and behind me. Numbers! Numbers! Numbers! All attempts to escape from them failed. I was trapped.
My father’s voice announced that it was time to get up. I have always been a late-night person, which means that I am not the first to get out of bed. Hearing my father’s voice was more welcome than the jarring ring of a wind-up alarm clock. This morning I especially welcomed his announcement. My nightmare of numbers was over.
My nightmare was understandable. Several months previously I started working as an accountant for a large corporation in New York City. As the junior member of the team, I had the responsibility of posting the main ledger. The ledger included two large books, and I had to transfer into them numbers from various reports. This task took at least one week, which meant that during that week I saw only numbers. On this particular night the numbers became my enemies. In fact, my father told me that before I woke up he heard me calling out numbers—large numbers—into the millions.
Ministers work with people but cannot avoid numbers, either. How many members do you have in your church? How many come to worship? How many new members joined your church? Did your church reach the budget? What is your baptismal goal for next year? Numbers, numbers, and more numbers. They are all around us and just won’t go away.
But are numbers the enemy? Certainly not the numbers we like. If our salary increase is larger than expected, we like the larger number. Grandparents usually do not complain about having too many grandchildren. In Jamaica, Pastors Leon B. Wellington and Noel Fraser asked me to participate in a funeral for a one-hundred-four-year-old man. He had (if I remember correctly) 9 children, 54 grandchildren and 104 great-grandchildren. At the funeral we were told how much he loved his family—all of them.
Several articles in this issue refer to numbers. Mark Finley’s focuses on, among other things, the number seven— seven areas of church life. Jon Paulien’s article challenges us to look behind the numbers—who are the people coming to our churches, and whom are we ignoring? Joel Musvosvi’s takes us to the book of Daniel—a book full of numbers—and reminds us that God is personally interested in His people. Numbers can bring to our mind very positive images.
Jesus liked numbers. In Luke 15:3-6 He tells us that 99 and 1 are significant numbers, but (strange as it seems) of them both, the number “1” is the more significant. Jesus had a special affinity for 1—a small number, whether it was one small outwardly insignificant coin (Mark 12:42) or one small child (Matt. 18:2). In Matthew 16:21 He reminds us that 3 is important, for on the third day He will be resurrected.
Numbers should not scare us as long as numbers alone are not the only focus. If we chase numbers we will never experience the joy of ministry. If we realize that numbers can be symbols of that which is important—namely God’s people—they become our friends. The focus must always be on people, and I believe that the articles mentioned have that focus.
I was about 13 years old when I received for the first time a series of Bible studies from a Bible instructor. At that time more churches had individuals— often women—who had this humble-sounding but vital role. Week after week, Gertrude Battle—an older lady who seemed very old to a 13-yearold— studied the Word of God with me. Shortly before those studies we had immigrated to the United States from Germany, and I had a limited understanding of English. At times I found it difficult to understand her, but I could tell that she was truly interested in me. She wanted to know about my school, my family, and how I liked my new country. Even though I was not baptized at that time, she did not act as if she had wasted her time with me. She continued to show interest in my well-being. Was I a number to her? Did she indicate on some report how many Bible studies she had given me? Most likely she did, but she treated me as someone important. That’s what matters.
How many did you baptize last year? A large number, you say. That’s wonderful— as long as they know that you have a personal interest in their lives. How many hours did you spend reading the Word of God? One hundred and fifty, you say. What has the Word done for you? How many new pastors did you start in ministry during the last two years? Five, you say. Are they now as important to you as when you were recruiting them?
Numbers are a part of our lives but should not govern them. They should be symbols—symbols of how important we are to God and how important others are to us.