The Beauty of Ordinary Pastors and Churches
Tuesday, November 2, 2010 at 5:00AM My latest column in Christian Week:
I don't envy them: the pastors with big names and book deals and conference circuits. Well, that's not completely true. I do envy them. They have been blessed with charisma and gifts and success; I haven't. Yet I know enough about the stresses they face to realize that I don't really want what they have no matter how good it looks.
But most pastors I know aren't trying to cope with success. I met with an older pastor yesterday and saw hurt in his eyes. He seems to feel lonely and pushed aside. If I wrote a book on pastoral faithfulness, I'd have to include a chapter on his life. Yet I get the sense that he wonders if his ministry has amounted to much. He's not alone.
It's also true of churches. Many are smaller than they used to be. Their cinderblock cement rooms in the basement used to be full of children. The wooden pews were crammed even on Sunday nights, even in the sticky heat of summer before there was air conditioning. Now they're mostly empty, and the people discouraged.
Some of my heroes in ministry are doing exactly the right things, yet suffer from a low-grade sense of ministerial (or church) failure.
I don't want to ignore our problems, but I do have something to say about this situation.
Let's start with dismantling our warped view of success. A cosmetics company launched a Campaign for Real Beauty. "We want to free ourselves and the next generation from beauty stereotypes." I'm thinking of starting a similar campaign for churches. We need to get rid of the airbrushed pictures of churches that exist in our minds but have never existed in reality. Simply put, churches are a mess. They have always been messy, but they won't always be. That gives me hope.
We need to redefine beauty in churches, because a lot of our churches are more beautiful than they first appear if we see them from the right perspective. It's like what Derek Webb says: "I've found that often success looks more like failure, riches more like poverty, and real life often feels more like death." Things aren't always what they appear to be.
Also, we can't ignore our context. A couple of years ago a pastor from Africa visited our church. He was puzzled by the lack of spiritual vibrancy in Canada. We thought we had it good compared to him; he set us straight. If ministry is like catching a wind, we have to admit that the gusts seem to be stronger in other parts of the world right now.
Mostly, we need to be careful of evaluating. We're simply not up to the job. My evaluations of successful ministry are probably going to be different than God's. Maybe that's what Paul meant when he said that he didn't judge himself. It's the Lord's judgment that counts. "Therefore do not pronounce judgment before the time," he wrote.
I planted grass seed last month. I always have a hard time believing that the grass is going to grow. For a week I feel like I'm watering mud, and the joke is on me. Then I start to see some grass blades poking through. I'm always amazed. You'd think I'd learn by now, but I'm always surprised. I'm not good at evaluating the progress of grass seed four days after it's planted; I'm probably not a good judge of ministry success over the course of a lifetime.
There's no question: we live in challenging times. And we are engaged in Christian ministry, which itself is beyond anyone's competence. And we work with people, who are just as frustrating sometimes as we are to ourselves. It's easy to be overwhelmed.
But let's look for the beauty that's found in ordinary pastors and churches. Let's pray that we'll catch a strong wind again, and let's do everything we can to serve effectively. Let's resist the temptation to evaluate things prematurely and to get discouraged. There's only one evaluation that counts, and it hasn't happened yet.
Reader Comments (4)
Hybels' Summit events do nothing to help the small to mid-size church pastor's sense of success. Credibility is determined by numbers, don't you know?!?!"
There's a fine line between a necessary challenge to pursue excellence and growth in the things that truly matter (i.e. loving God and loving people) and the constant temptation and pitfall to define our own worth by how much we're measuring up to the standards we want to reach.Many years ago, a fellow pastor within a Toronto ministerial asked us the question: what is the primary reason why church growth is important for you? Is it truly because of a heartfelt passion for the kingdom of God, or is it really about us and whether others will perceive us as a success or a failure? It was very sobering and the right questionI needed to hear at the time.
I honestly don't think that the average church in Canada should grow in numbers. Spiritual growth will inevitably result in shrinkage given the cultural Christianity that abounds.
One of the pastors I most loved and respected, had a congregation of 25 faithful people. He was forced to work full-time to support his family, and yet he never failed to be there when one needed him for a bit of encouragement and/or advice.He taught,... and LIVED,... the love of God for His people. Small-time, Denominational, and needy church,... but very successful and cherished by the people who went there. He taught me more about the nature of my Father God than almost anyone else. He also instilled in me a desire to "Know Whom, (and what,) I believed."