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.