I can remember a seminary professor who told us, if you just preach a good sermon on Sunday and take care of your flock during the week, you will have a successful ministry. Now, whether that was ever fully true, one thing is for certain, it is no longer the case. Today, the pastor wears so many hats, it is hard to count them. The pastor is an administrator, cheerleader, counselor, promoter, social worker, preacher, youth and children’s minister, care giver, teacher, discipler, and often a mind reader.

The reality is none of us can be proficient in all these areas. Each of us has unique gifts to offer the Kingdom, but only the entire body has all the tools necessary to complete the toolkit. Ephesians 4 reminds us that our primary role is to “equip the saints for the work of the ministry.”

But how do we move from being providers to being equippers?

One key is to excel in those areas where we are gifted. I think of a friend, who is a most excellent communicator. It is his practice not to leave his study on Thursday’s until his sermon is completed. He takes Fridays as his day off and spends several hours on Saturday morning memorizing his message. He is dogged in protecting those times from distractions which could dilute his effectiveness in the pulpit.

Unlike my friend, too many times I would put less time in those areas of higher competence, because I could get by with a minimal amount of effort and to use the additional times in doing things that others could do a much better job than I. When we make those kind of compromises, we rob both ourselves and the congregation of the power of our gifts.

Now when we begin to build in and protect sufficient time to exercise those areas of giftedness, one thing is for sure, other things will not get done. It is then we need what Rabbi Edwin Friedman describes as a non anxious presence. It is the ability to not be defensive but to in the midst of such a crisis to gently, but firmly cast our vision of the kind of ministry where each part of the body can fulfill his or her own potential. Will there be conflict? Most definitely, but there is the potential to grow together through creative conflict.

Just a Thought

Bob

Recently, I was thinking, “Hager, who do you think you are, writing a blog and publishing it on the internet? What makes you think that you have anything to say on ministry that is worth someone else’s time reading? You don’t have a Phd. You have never written a book. You never have been a district superintendent, let alone a Bishop. You have been working on this documentary project for over three years and it is still not finished. What makes you think you have anything to say worth someone else’s time and energy?”

Then I realized a blog is different (sure is my spell checker doesn’t even recognize the word). It is not an article, a sermon, a thesis, it is merely one person sharing his or her journey, believing there might be something in there, a word, phrase, that might connect with another who has had similar life experiences. It is not offered as an expert or guru, but merely one person walking down a path sharing a conversation with another.

The internet is filled with new ways of communicating, but the blog is a wonderful exercise of one beggar sharing with another beggar, where he or she can find some bread. Please help make this blog interactive by sharing your comments below.

A few weeks before graduating from seminary in 1979, I invited my mentor and friend, the Rev. J. Gary Campbell out to lunch. I sought his counsel as I left the comfortable world of seminary to the trenches of full time pastoral ministry. I will never forget the wisdom Gary shared with me. First he told me to “play a lot” Second he said, “those who take life most seriously, take themselves least seriously”. It wasn’t that Gary avoided hard work or was a goof off. It was just that Gary had a deep trust in God, that he was able to walk through life with a lightness that left room for a sense of humor and a healthy suspicion on anyone who took themselves too seriously, especially himself.

One day a friend came up to me and said, “Bob, when was the last time you had a belly laugh? Not a laugh that originates in your lips, but one that rises from the lower part of my body and uncontrollably shakes its way up through my throat to my head and creates a smile on my face and tears in my eyes and causes me to double over in joy. Not a laughter that is gained at another’s expense, but one that is focused on our common humanity and rips away any pretense in our lives. Much humor today is biting, cruel and demeaning. What we need is a more belly laughs.

Gary knew something I would never hear from a classroom or read in a book.

The pastorate can be a lonely profession. As pastor, we are called upon to listen in confidence to problems faced by any number of people in our world. The question comes, what happens when we need someone to perform priestly duties for us.

There was a time when people would suggest that one’s ecclesiastical superior was the logical person to peform those duties. I’m never sure that ever fully worked, but several years ago I had an experience that brought that whole approach into question.

In the midst of a clergy meeting, a District Superitendent, whom I did and still do respect cautioned us pastors in terms of the things we confided with him. He told us that anything we shared with him that could affect our appointment, he was mandated to pass on to the Bishop and other superintendents. There goes confidentiality out the window.

I think most pastors know the pitfalls of sharing our struggles with members of the congregation and the competiveness and lack of trust among clergy within our tradtion, make it hard to talk to them about our problems.

It is not surprising that many clergy keep things bottled up or dump them on the only safe place we know, our families.

There is a risk no matter which direction we go, but if my years of pastoral ministry has taught me anything, it is there is a greater risk in not sharing my burdens with someone. Yes, we can and should share our burdens to God in prayer, but we also need a human connection that can listen and empathetically walk with us through our struggles. When we deposit these frustrations inward, they always find a way of leaking out, most often in the least helpful and least productive ways. For example in being short temperered with our loved ones or in venting in front of the congregation in a self righteous manner. In either of these cases and in many more, the risk of not sharing can become greater than the risk of sharing.

I am not saying we should blindly share our souls with anyone who will listen, but in our daily lives we come across persons we know to be people of integrity and compssion. Whether they be clergy outside our tradtion or other professionals whose job it is to keep confidences, our need is for a safe place to deposit our struggles.

For several years I had a friend that was a physchiatirst. From time to time, I would consult with him on difficult pastoral care issues. There came a time when I faced a crisis in my own life, this professional friend walked with me through that crisis.

The risk of sharing is great but pales in comparison to the risk of not sharing.

Just a thought,

Bob

In one of his understated yarns, Garrison Keillor tells the story of Pastor Inkfest of Lake Wobegon’s Lutheran’s church. It is early winter and the churchs’ finance committee is meeting to finalize the new year’s budget. Things were tight and there were more needs than money and they were needing to trim some budget items.
Pastor Inkfest and his wife had been anticipating a trip the following week to the Lutheran mid-winter convention in Florida, a welcome break from the harsh Minnesota’s winter. In fact, Mrs. Inkfest had already had their trip all planned out from all the colorful Florida brochures on the dining room table.
As the finance committee proceeded, potential cuts were suggested. One person mentioned posssbily cutting the overseas mission budget, but than mentioned that there was the Inkfests trip to sunny Florida, while all the other members had to endure the frigid winter in Lake Wobegon.
There was a long period of loud silence, where pastor Inkfest sat there with every nerve constricted into a noose.  After a long period of time, the good pastor anxious to relieve tension, suggested they could cancel the Florida trip. Swiftly, one of the members said, well Pastor Inkfest if you really feel that way, and before anyone could say boo, the issue was settled and the trip cancelled.
Once again, the pastor had fell into his own trap. He went home defeated and worried about Mrs. Inkfest reaction.
For several days afterward, Mrs. Inkfest was as cold as stone and said not one word to her depressed husband.
One morning while eating breakfast the pastor saw his wife approaching him with a smile. She proceeded to put her arms around her husband and told him, how much she loved and repsected him.
After the tension was broken, Mrs. Inkfest looks into his eyes and said, “I would only ask one thing, the next time you decide to sacrifice and hang on the cross, would you at least ask me before you take me along with you”.
Keillor shows amazing insight into the stressful life of ministry. Thank you Mr. Keillor for such a gift.

What was the most stressful experience in your ministry?

Crossfire Blog is a place to explore clergy wellness in the midst of a post Christian culture and a nostalgic church.