Forgotten, and That's Good

I had a couple of experiences on Sunday that were surprisingly encouraging.

First, I spoke at a neighboring church in the afternoon. I had spoken there once before, four years ago. Most people didn't remember me. Maybe one did, but it was mostly about my glasses. I showed up as almost a complete unknown.

My introduction was simple: I'm a pastor, a father, and a grandfather. I preached and played my role but left knowing I was just another pastor filling in while the main pastor is on sabbatical. It doesn't mean my ministry there was unimportant; I trust that God works through the preached word whether people remember the preacher or the sermon. It just means I'll soon be forgotten, and that’s good.

Then I rushed to Liberty Grace Church, the church I planted twelve years ago. We poured our lives into it but left two years ago, trusting God would raise up a new pastor and that the work would continue and thrive without us.

I showed up for the new pastor's ordination and found a full church. I played absolutely no role in the service. Half the people there wouldn't have known who I was. The church is growing and thriving under its new pastor’s ministry, even accomplishing things I only dreamt about.

This is exactly what we prayed for before we left. One person thanked me for laying the groundwork for what is happening now. In other words, my role was merely preparation for what God is doing now.

When we left the church two years ago, I wanted it to grow and do better than if I had stayed as pastor. God has answered that prayer and more.

I came home Sunday night feeling small in the best possible way. The calling of pastors is to serve. God uses us, but in the end, we're all replaceable. One day in the church where I currently serve, I too will be forgotten. God willing, I will be just one of many faithful pastors who’ve served and moved on.

I heard an interview by Caleb Morell about his book Light on the Hill, in which he mentioned that churches are blessed by mostly forgotten men and women who lie in unmarked graves. That’s a great goal: to serve and leave our memory up to the Lord, knowing that even if we're unknown by others, we're known by him.

Tim Keller wrote about the freedom of self-forgetfulness, but it’s not just self-forgetfulness that’s freeing. There’s also freedom in others forgetting you too, of being replaced and for the work going on without you, maybe even better than it did when you were there.

Let's pray we faithfully play the role God has called us to play but that things aren't built around us and will do just fine when we're gone. We're all replaceable, and instead of being a threat to our security or identity, it's very good news. God will continue his good work with or without us and long after we're gone.