When i stepped out of seminary three years ago, I was ready to win the world for Christ. All I wanted was a church to preach in and a congregation that could be easily managed, leaving me lots of time to study. That is exactly what I got. I also got a $20,000 salary with excellent fringe benefits, a home of my own, two cars, two children, and a congregation that loves me.
By any stretch of the imagination I should be quite content. But I’m not. I considered possible solutions to my restlessness and lack of satisfaction, and found they fell under three general headings: the church and the denomination, professional goals, and Christ’s basic call. Each has much to offer, and it would be helpful if all ministers put them on the table occasionally.
From the standpoint of the church, I could recognize what an ideal situation I am in. My parish area population exceeds 25,000, and there are fewer than two dozen churches. The growth potential is tremendous. This church, with a lot of planning and hard work, could become one of the largest and best-financed in the Midwest. Since church growth is the new measure for pastoral success, and if in 10 years I am pastoring this church with over 2,000 members, who is to say I could not become one of America’s great preachers?
Or, I could move to a larger church. This is instant success. If I were not any good, why would a larger church call me? The logic is impeccable. I have been groomed by both seminary and society to move up the corporate ladder—so why shouldn’t I do just that? Also, I would not have to do all the calling required to grow a church from “scratch.” And I would get a nice raise in salary.
Denominational work also looks attractive. There are often excellent opportunities available to advance within the structure. Once a person moves from the pastorate to denominational employment, everyone assumes him to be an expert in his field and so he is in demand in all the churches, not just one. In fact, becoming involved on the denominational level must be more within the Great Commission since the influence I could have would extend far beyond the boundaries of the local congregation. I would be going into “Samaria and the uttermost parts.” Surely that accomplishment would give me the contentment I am seeking.
There is another side to the picture, however. The solution to my problem might also involve professional goals and aspirations. Perhaps I could go back to school, at least on a part-time basis at a nearby seminary. Or I could move to a campus for advanced studies. Obviously, no one succeeds without a doctoral degree. It is a prerequisite for being pastor of a “super” church. Receiving that degree would certainly give me a deep sense of personal accomplishment and acclaim. I would then be recognized as an expert. In addition to the title of “doctor,” the work and the sacrifices would surely earn me at least three extra stars in my crown in heaven.
But none of these options guarantees me a rewarding, enriching, and fulfilling career as a minister of Jesus Christ. What are my alternatives through him? What would Jesus have to do with me—a suburbanized, comfortable, slightly overweight, overeducated, underexperienced pastor with a too-high estimate of himself?
Answers come quickly, but implementation is not easy. One answer is: “If you would be perfect [or complete], go, sell what you possess and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me.” I don’t even want to preach on the rich young ruler again because he is too much like me. Hearing that answer causes me to go away sorrowful. It hurts!
It is extremely difficult not to trust in things. I don’t know what I would do if I did not have all those beautiful books on my shelf (for people to “ooh” and “ahh” over). I need them for study and to prepare sermons.
I have worked too long for my house. It is not big, but it is the only thing I have of any real value. Besides, where would my family and I live? Don’t give me any lip about lilies and foxes—they get wet when it rains! Anyway, I give to the poor by tithing to the church.
But is there another way for me besides following a specific command of the Lord? The painful answer comes all too quickly: “I have given you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you.” I could live as he lived, or at least with the same motives he had. This also raises a problem. Since my denomination says this command does not mean we must observe foot washing, then it must refer to Jesus’ total lifestyle.
It is here that my confession really begins. I am not sure I want to be like that. Platitudes are nice, but to give careful consideration to the consequences of living a life totally committed to preaching the gospel to the poor, proclaiming release to the captives, giving sight to the blind, setting free those who are downtrodden, and proclaiming the favorable year of the Lord is downright frightening. The only place a lifestyle like that leads is to a cross. And I am not quite ready to face a cross with “not my will but thine be done.” Why can’t I just stay comfortable? Why can’t I just live out my life in parish maintenance? Why can’t I be mediocre, colorless, yet happy and contented?
The answer, again, is very simple, yet hard to hear: Jesus wants me to take up my cross and follow him. And if I take it up, I must be willing to be crucified on it. I must follow my Savior wherever he leads. I know I shall never be free until I go his way willingly. I know, I know, I know!
But I don’t want to change; and that is my confession. (I am sure there are many other pastors who feel as I do.) My prayer then becomes: “Lord, give me the desire to follow you joyfully, so that I will never walk away sorrowfully.”
Mr. Sennett is pastor of the Dublin Baptist Church, Dublin, Ohio.
