Pastoral ministry can be dangerous and emotionally debilitating. While there are some obvious joys and thrills that come with the territory—being an agent of positive change in someone’s life or helping them navigate a particularly difficult or challenging situation—there are also some serious hazards. You’re dealing with people, and not everyone is going to like every decision you make. You’re in a position of leadership and influence, and not every ministry initiative is going to work out the way you’d like. You’re going to preach a sermon some people take issue with or make a staff hire that doesn’t work out as well as you’d hoped. Many people are deeply flawed and broken, and ministry places you in a position where you personally experience the fallout of their flawedness and brokenness. There are people who are not—and will never be—on the same page, and the resulting conflict can be intense. There are times you have no choice but to make a decision that’s going to enflame or irritate a certain constituency. How you couple the tender heart necessary for effective ministry with the hide of a rhinoceros necessary to endure some of the shots that come with the territory is a difficult challenge.
I’ve had people get upset with me over frivolous and trivial issues. I’ve had folks leave the church over matters that were inconsequential and, frankly, silly. I’ve had individuals read me the riot act because of something I said from the pulpit … or because of something I didn’t say that they believe I should have said. I’ve had those to whom I’ve shared a piece of my heart—a communication that was meant to be held privately—divulge that disclosure in destructive and hurtful ways. I’ve had people cut me off and not communicate—refuse to take my phone calls or reply to emails or text messages—over issues that, to this day, remain a mystery to me. I’ve had my character misrepresented … my motives questioned … my commitment to orthodoxy challenged … and my actions scrutinized and gossiped about. I’ve had people I counted as friends—folks I thought I could trust—engage in intentional sabotage that tarnished my reputation and undermined my credibility. I’ve had people I counted as allies sit by silently when I came under attack and watch me twist in the wind. In other words, I’ve had the experience of being a local church pastor.
How does one deal with this? A number of folks get battle worn and weary and decide to make an exit. The hazards of ministry are so draining they choose to leave the arena. Even though they still love God and desire to serve Him in meaningful ways, they conclude there are better ways to make a living and/or provide for their family. So … they transition out of pastoral ministry and pursue another career path. But for others, the call of God is inescapable. He simply will not let them “off the hook.” The sense of “this is mine to do”—the feeling of being tapped on the shoulder for this task—is so unrelenting that they soldier forward as best they can.
It’s against this backdrop a story from the life of Jesus recently jumped out to me in a fresh way. It’s found in Matthew 3, and it records the account where Jesus, at the outset of his public ministry, is baptized by his cousin John. It says, at the end of the account, that a voice broke in from heaven saying, “This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased” (Matt. 3:17- NIV). A number of scholars talk about how this event inaugurated Jesus’ work as the Messiah. But from a psychological standpoint, I believe there’s another way to understand this event, for it did something very necessary and valuable for him. It gave him a sense of grounding … a personal identity that was not tied to his success as a leader … an awareness that God’s love and approval was not connected to his success … or his achievements … or his titles. Before he ever chose those who would be his closest followers … or performed a miracle … or taught a multitude … or had a contentious exchange with the religious leaders, he had the awareness he was deeply loved by His Heavenly Father. There was nothing he could do that could make Him love him more, and there was nothing he could do that could make Him love him less. This is something that, I’m convinced, held Him in good stead as he dealt with the various stresses that accompanied his call and the various arrows that came his way.
For those of us that serve in ministry, this is an essential thing to be reminded of. The sense of identity that we are valued and approved of by God regardless of the level of success that accompanies our efforts is indispensable when it comes to longevity in ministry. The awareness we are inexorably loved by our Heavenly Father is a constitutional element of the resilience necessary for staying power in ministry. For only then can we risk failure. Only then can we have the courage to truly lead. Only then can we have the ability to bounce back and stay in the arena after the hardships and difficulties come. Effective pastoral ministry must always be a response to the prior love of God.
One of the ways this manifests itself in my life is that I frequently remind myself that my efforts, at the end of the day, are about an Audience of One. I am not offering my ministry to these people on behalf of God; I am offering my ministry to God on behalf of these people—this setting and these people merely provides the context for that offering. Whether people approve or like something I do is secondary, for what really matters is how I carry and conduct myself. Do I carry myself in a way that is consistent with his character? Do I strive to conscientiously deploy the gifts and talents He gave me? I want to do what I do as an offering of gratitude and thanks in response to the unprompted love of my Heavenly Father.
That’s not to say I’m not accountable or imply that I’m above answering for my decisions and choices. It’s just to acknowledge that God’s approval and love for me is not in any way connected to my success or failure. Paul said it so well in Romans 8—that “nothing in all creation can separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord” (v. 39 – NIV). So even if we encounter difficulties and periodically fail in ministry—as is bound to happen at least occasionally—God’s love for us will never fail.