I called to talk to Julie a moment ago to see if I could come by and see her father again. “Dad passed away this morning.” It left me with a feeling of guilt that I’ve experienced often before.
On Monday, my supposed day off, I got a call from the father of a man who used to attend our church. His wife’s uncle (great uncle?) was sick and he asked me if I would go over and “lead him to Jesus.” I tried to explain that it was a little tougher than just showing up and automatically leading a guy to Jesus but I said I’d go. I did.
Early Monday afternoon I met with Jim in his room at the assisted living center and spoke to him about Christ. He was not able to respond, other than by making faces. His daughter assured me he understood what I was saying. He was a man in his late 80s who had never had much time for Jesus. Frankly, it’s easier to preach the gospel when the subject can’t talk back, isn’t it? I shared the gospel story, told him about the thief on the cross who looked to Christ moments before he faced eternity, explained that even at this late moment in life, the grace and love of God extended to him. I asked him to trust in Christ.
Then I left. When I did, I told his daughter that I’d try to come back Tuesday to talk again. Tuesday turned out to be one of those days. I got a middle of the night (well, early morning) call from the alarm company and had to get up and go over to the church to check things out. When I finally got back to bed I switched my alarm off and slept later than usual. I had a bunch of stuff to do at the office and pretty soon it was late afternoon and I’d not made it back to Jim’s. My grandkids were headed to the house (Hurricane JohannahEllis) and so I told myself I’d just put it off until tomorrow, which is today.
I spent today dealing with our church’s insurance. Our company messed up and then messed with us. Because we had an open claim (we haven’t been able to get the company out to complete the repairs after the massive storm that damaged our entire area in June of 2017) they raised our deductible sky-high and changed some of our coverages. So, I met with a new insurance company and fielded a plaintive call from the old company begging not to lose our business.
Finally, a few minutes ago I thought again about going to see Jim, as I’d promised to do yesterday but procrastinated. It was too late. His eternity has been settled.
I’m not a megalomaniac. I realize that I couldn’t have saved Jim by showing up and if he is under eternal judgment today it isn’t because I didn’t show up. I’m not trying to take onto myself guilt or credit for his salvation. I just want to reflect a bit on the nature of the ministry and the pressures we face as pastors.
We like to talk as if we work harder than anyone else, a claim I doubt is true. There are other people, other professions who work long hours and hard hours and have great pressures. But on Monday, I told a woman I’d visit her and talk to her dad again about his eternal soul. I procrastinated a day and suddenly he was experiencing the reality of the verse, “It is appointed unto man to die once and after that, to face judgment.” His destiny was settled.
Here are the realities of ministry.
- We live daily with the pressure of the eternal souls of men and women on our hands. Paul claimed that as the greatest of his pressures in 2 Corinthians 11. If that doesn’t weigh on us, we shouldn’t be in the business. Again, I realize ultimately its all in God’s hands, but our ministry has eternal consequences.
- There has never been a day in my nearly 40 years of ministry in which I got my work done. There was always more to do. More people to visit. More prayers to pray. More papers to process. More studying. When you are a pastor, your work is never done until God calls you home. I’ve never laid my head on the pillow at night with all my tasks complete.
- There are always people who think I am doing a horrible job. I’ve tried to preach God’s word and live with integrity but someone is always there to remind me of my imperfections. Remember, people condemned Jesus to death. You and I will never be universally celebrated. Jesus promised that.
- Ministry in a struggling, traditional church does not offer the kind of ego-boosting rewards that guys get in the fast-growing churches. I read a couple of guys recently who said that we should give up on churches like mine, close them, and start over. Made me feel good. I’m grinding day by day hoping God will open heaven’s blessings on a church that needs a fresh start and people are saying churches like mine aren’t even worth the effort.
- We have the joy of being called to jobs of eternal import, but often get mired in mundane things. Did I need to deal with the church’s insurance issue? Yes. In our church, I needed to work through that to bring a recommendation to the admin team. It would be nice if I could spend all my time in my office studying and preparing sermons, but I’m called to minister to people. It is a constant battle balancing the eternal and the temporal.
- I often think of the old Dawson Trotman tract, “The Tyranny of the Urgent.” Things that are important are seldom urgent. Things that are urgent are seldom important. We have to complete urgent tasks without being sidelined from the important ones. I don’t think I’m very good at that.
- A big part of ministry is learning to deal with my failures. I, like many pastors, am prone to messianic leanings. When I fail it reminds me that I serve the perfect Lord of all, I am not him! Someone said that there are two lessons each of us needs to learn. There is a God. I’m not him. Times like this help me to remember that.
I am glad I went over to visit Jim and share Christ with him on Monday. Maybe he heard me and responded – it is something I won’t know until I reach the other side. But I am reminded of that constant struggle I have between what I’m doing and what I should be doing, the ideal of ministry and the real, administration and ministering to souls. I’m called to do both and finding the balance is not always easy.
No, I’m not depressed right now. I just felt bad about procrastinating and it got me thinking about the stresses of ministry. Our job isn’t harder than everyone else’s, but it is unique. There are things about it I love and things that wear me out. I just wanted to share my burden with you a little – maybe some of you feel what I feel.
Jim, I hope I see you again.
I know the feeling. I like my semi-retirement where I am not a “quivering mass of availability” (a quote I stole). It’s sometimes tough to navigate the expectations. You should been a megapastor then you could take July and August off.
And have a team of 45 staff pastors…
I found myself saying “amen” all the way thru!
Thank you.
Question: Do you suppose God knows how to get your attention BIGTIME, and make you storm over to see him, above anything else you have to do?
I’m betting He does know how to do that, and if that were the case, you’d have made the trip.
Apparently He did not want you to. Apparently your work there was finished. Your last sentence should be “Jim, I trust I’ll see you again”.
Dave – We are seed planters ONLY and not saviors of any. Only God can save … He just wants our willingness to go. You were. You did.
Trust me this is something I have to tell myself constantly as I have watched more than one dear friend and Holocaust survivor die without Jesus. I had shared the Gospel. I had begged and pleaded to no avail but I am not God and I could not save him, them and her. I am not telling you this story but for any other purpose but to encourage you to forgive yourself for being human and ONE person.
Remember you are a servant. Just serve. And God will be pleased.
Amazing Dave! Your shoes are an exact fit for me. And I have been walking in them for 35 years. I identify with everything you said and I feel it everyday. Thanks for sharing. Reminds us we are not alone.
Every pastor can resonate with what you wrote. There are not enough hours in the day. I have served as an interim pastor and pastor, but most of our service was in foreign missions. When we were at the Missionary Orientatioin Center (new missionary training) in 1975, Dr. Winston Crawley, Vice President of the Foreign Mission Board (now IMB), spoke to our training group. He said, “You cannot be all things to all people.” He meant that you do what you can, but you can’t do everything that everybody needs. A pastor wears so many hats: preacher, evangelist, counselor, administrator, comforter, minister to the poor, etc. Seminary professors tell their students that determining ministry priorities is a huge challenge, and your poignant post emphasizes that truth.
I, too, have felt the weight of such circumstances. If there is an area I’ve grown in as a pastor over the past few years (and as I’ve gotten into my 50’s), it’s the realization that though I have divine appointments, the spiritual life of my congregation and their families is not solely dependent on my leadership. That doesn’t mean that I get lazy or run from responsibility, but it helps with situations like this. You were obedient to go and share the Gospel. Rest in that and give yourself permission to take care of those other things that fall under your hat as pastor/preacher.
Dave: A personal story. The father of my youngest daughter’s 3 children died in a motorcycle accident at the age of 25, 10 years ago yesterday. I loved this young man as a son. He had a rough upbringing with a mother in and out of jail and father died when he was very young. His mother went with some pretty rough men, choosing them over her son. Ben was a wonderful father and my daughter and he were together for several years.
Long story short…I took this young man under my wing and witnessed to him, he allowed me to take the girls to church from the beginning, when he died I did not know whether he was in heaven or hell. I felt I had not brought him to Christ, but then a very good friend told me that I had been praying for him, saw changes in him and that God would never torture me this way or take him unless he was born again. I believe this. God loves Ben as much as He loves me, and Ben did listen to me and showed a great interest.
We don’t know this side of heaven, but I did not think I would get over Ben’s death, or the guilt. I grieved deeply, but as I prayed through, reading my Bible, crying so hard the words were almost blurred, I had a peace that passes understanding. I believe Ben in heaven. Could it be a way to appease my pain? Maybe, but I also know God is greater than I am and past my understanding and I also believe He does not let us down. In as much as we are faithful, He is even more faithful.
You did what you could as a human being and pastor of more than one person. I pray you can rest in that. God is faithful. Lamentations 3:22-23 22Because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. 23They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.
Debbie Kaufman,
I remember that time in your life. Yet, I was surprised that it was 10 years ago. Time as traveled fast. May the Lord bless you and your family as you remember Ben.
Perhaps because I am so removed from your experience, I dont understand. I often hear about this struggle. I guess I don’t fully grasp why it is this way? Must the visitation and evangelism fall to the pastor? Is there no one capable of handling the insurance? I think about Moses’s burden and appointing the leaders to share the burden. And I think about the widows’ distribution in Acts. One or two men can’t bear such burdens. Does the call to preach and shepherd mean you are called to do all things at all times for all people in your spheres of influence? Surely there are people within the local body of believers equipped to help.
Don’t forget to rest.
Good question, but complicated.
The burden was not going over to share Christ with a dying man. That is a privilege.
The burden is balancing all the temporal and eternal tasks. It is the fact that no matter what you do you could have always done more, someone will think you did it wrong, you will second guess yourself- all of that.
I understand what you are saying. I struggle with those things as well. Edit: But not from your position where it feels like everyone depends on you all the time.
And I agree that sharing the gospel is a privilege. But privileges can feel burdensome when the expectations become unrealistic. Whether that expectation comes from others, or from within yourself (the frustration of not being able to control the outcome is something I’ve dealt with, esp with people I’m close to).
I’m confused. did you hear me say I think everything depends on me? That certainly was not my intent. you seem to be hearing things I did not intend to say.
Perhaps authors understand. you are never done editing.
These are fair questions with complicated answers. With buildings, budgets, and paid professional clergy a fair amount of administrative tasks adheres to every church. For better or worse and to a greater or lesser degree, the pastor is the administrative head in most churches. Sometimes he enlists volunteers to handle stuff, Sometimes not, but will be blamed for administrative shortcomings regardless. The median SBC church has about 70 for weekly worship and a single clergy staff.
I had various levels of admin support from laypeople. It wasn’t a big deal to me but most pastors abhor administrative duties.
I don’t pretend to speak for Dave in his situation but many times the failure is with the pastor who often reserves even administrative decisions for himself.
I’d just as soon stick a shard of glass in my eye as deal with insurance.
There’s another part to this of the pastor being emotionally laden with the cares of the congregation to an unhealthy degree. Again, I’m not speaking to Dave’s situation.
Kimberly,
You are right. You “don’t fully grasp why it is this way.”
Encouraging words. Add to the list of things, “ministering to one’s own family,” or better yet, “ministering to other families while ministering to your own family.” For me, that is the biggest challenge, and I fret that perhaps it has been my biggest failure. Just made an emergency flight with my wife to minister to my son in Hawaii. He recently got out of the Navy and had a nervous breakdown ending with a suicide watch in a hospital an ocean away and all alone.
Much of his problem, according to doctors, stems from living in the stress of a pastor’s home. I tried not to bring all the church issues home, but it is hard when your home is actually one of the church buildings on the church property.
I’m glad you don’t feel like a complete failure. It encourages me that I am not a failure, either. I fail. Bunches. No doubt about that! But, I try to “be everything to all people so that perhaps I might win some.” I’m an old dog in the fight now . . . , but I like to think I’m still in the fight.
Again, great insight and words of encouragement. May you get to see “the heavens open” in your church–and I suspect, it happens often, even though it may not make the headlines. God bless, Brother.