It’s hard being a pastor. If someone came to me with problems like mine, I’d feel sorry for him. My diary can’t hold all the people who need to see me. My sermons don’t seem to be appreciated, my hair’s going gray, and I get home so late the dog eyes me suspiciously. It’s easy to feel down.
One of my recent “poor little me” daydreams was spoiled by the thought there might be some positives to ministry. So I wrote them down. Now I can’t forget them, and I’m forced to admit my lot as a pastor isn’t all bad. I’m in danger of enjoying the job.
You can probably work out your own list, but here is my collection.
- Speaking for Jesus If I were a politician, I might be handling the nation’s economy or international relations. If I were a lawyer, I’d be arguing my client’s case in court or advising her about a will. If I dealt in real estate, I’d convince one person to sell his property and another to buy it. During hard times, I’ve wished I had one of those occupations. But none offers what I have. I may drive an old car and wonder how I’ll ever afford to replace it. I may live in the city when my heart is more in the country. I may never hear my kids boast that their dad is high up in a large corporation. But I get to talk about Jesus, and there’s nothing or no one I’d rather talk about. Week in, week out, I’m doing work that matters for eternity.
- Bringing people to faith very Christian is a witness and called to bring people to faith, but I have opportunity to do so every day. I’ve knelt with people in my office, helping them trust Christ. I’ve watched others make their commitment by coming forward at the end of a service. I’ve sat at a kitchen table, leading a woman to faith while the children she was minding climbed all over her. The work of spiritual midwifery never fails to fill me with awe.
- Sharing profound moments As a pastor I share in the profound moments of people’s lives. I join a young couple in marriage, enjoying the celebration of their love. I weep with parents as they lose their premature, anencephalic baby, and a year later rejoice with them when a healthy daughter is born. I talk with others about a career move that will take them to a war-torn land to serve Christ. I stand by a widow at a graveside as we lay her husband to rest, praying for God’s comfort and hope. I put my arm round a fellow whose wife has taken the children and gone to live with another man, leaving behind someone who now feels like a failure as a husband and father. All of this is life’s tapestry with its light and dark strands. I’d rather run from some of it, yet the love of God in me wants to reach out to people in their hurts and joys. Doing so is a privilege I can’t take for granted.
- Helping people with crises A student tells me she’s pregnant, and her boyfriend wants her to have an abortion. Someone else was raped and sexually abused as a child. Another faces massive debts. A marriage is crumbling. A work promotion hasn’t materialized. Exams have been failed, and parents won’t accept their child not scoring “A” grades. A teenage son is drinking and keeping bad company. In these crises, I’m still learning how to be involved without becoming overwhelmed. That will always be hard because I care about these people and hurt when they hurt. But if they didn’t have a pastor, many of them would have no one to turn to. I can’t take away their problems. Yet standing with them against the raging winds seems to matter.
- Working with God’s family Those with whom my life is interwoven are people I love. The two others on our pastoral team are not just my closest colleagues; they’re my brother and sister in Christ. I feel the same about my congregation: we’re one family with one Father. Of course, families fight. Our church relationships are far from problem-free. The higher the standard you set, the more aware you become of how far short everyone falls. We are constantly forgiving and asking forgiveness. But the anguish we feel about failing only highlights that we belong together. Even with the disappointments, I wouldn’t swap the blessing of working with God’s family.
- Meeting fascinating people My work occasionally brings me in contact with community leaders, politicians, denominational heads, charity workers, and TV or radio personalities. My own congregation is filled with stories of tragedy and triumph. One man told me how it felt to be sentenced to die by firing squad during the Congo rebellion, only to be rescued at the last minute by mercenaries. Another climbs regularly in the Himalayas and described what it’s like to stand on Everest. A doctor had me doubled up with laughter as he told of asking a patient with heart trouble to strip to the waist so he could examine him more closely. When he returned a few minutes later, he found the man minus his pants! On a different note, an elderly member shared how he went through major heart surgery within a month of the death of his wife, and how close Jesus came to him at that time. It means so much to know these people.
- Having a flexible schedule I have freedom for things that might be difficult with most other jobs. By planning appropriately I’ve usually been able to watch my children run in their school races or see them perform in an event. If I’ve been overbusy, I may be able to leave my desk on a sunny afternoon, take my wife’s hand, and go for a stroll in the countryside. When my father is in town, I can rearrange my day off and try to beat him on the golf course. My congregation expects me to work hard. But I have more liberty than most police officers, office workers, train drivers, and others who are usually stuck with their shifts.
- Working with God I get to work not only for God but with God. As I prepare my sermon, I ask what he wants to say to his people. As I deliver that message, I look for God’s power to make the words change lives. When I counsel, internally I shout, “Help! Help!” because I need divine wisdom for that person. Constantly I’m reminded the church is not mine but his. God loves each of these sinner-saints more than I do, and he’s well able to handle their problems and failures. Every day is spent with him, and every task is done for him. That doesn’t make the work automatically easy or enjoyable. I’m sure Moses didn’t find trudging through a wilderness for forty years with a moaning and ungrateful nation all that much fun. And he never had even one vacation. But he sp oke with God face to face. Through Jesus I also speak to God. I work with God. I wouldn’t give that up to be president or prime minister.
************************
J. Alistair Brown is pastor of Gerrard Street Baptist Church in Aberdeen, Scotland.
1996 Christianity Today/LEADERSHIP Journal
