The Pastor Works Only 35 Minutes a Week

Ever since I switched from software development to pastoral ministry, I have been very careful to not call what I do "work" or a "job." It's "ministry," it's a "calling," but not "work." I don't "go into work," but I will "head to the church building to study" or meet with people or even "make progress" on ministries, plans, and projects. Whatever it is that I do (which is still a mystery to some!), it's not "work" like the rest of you do. I would never diminish the calling that way.

And I've been wrong this whole time.

In trying to show regard for church ministry, I accidentally have conveyed several things that aren't true:

A sacred - secular dualism. Since the Enlightenment, we've had a growing dualism that divides our lives into secular and sacred. My secular job and my sacred religious life, distinct and separate. My work, which has nothing directly to do with matters of faith, and my church life. Clergy and laity - some people who are religious for a living and then normal people. By refusing to call what I do "work," I'm refusing to use common, "secular" words to describe this "sacred" activity, which only furthers this harmful dualism.

Your work isn't ministry. The flip side of this is that I have denigrated the godly value of what you do, as if what you do does not minister to others. You engage people where they spend most of their lives, and you can demonstrate Christ by how and why you do your work. There may even be opportunities to appropriately talk about matters of faith. But if I elevate what I do over what you do, no wonder people don't feel like their jobs really matter in the big picture.

Distance where there should be proximity. By using different language for what you do and what I do, I only create distance between us, and that's the last thing we need.

What I do isn't work. Not calling it "work" makes it seem like I just spend my days floating in some spiritual high or engaging heroically in epic spiritual battles, and that I don't have to "work-y things" like plan, manage, shuffle papers, research, write, or handle salesmen. I don't do email ... I prophesy digitally!

The root of this problem is our theology of work. Work is not a curse from Genesis 3, but a holy charge for the entire human race from Genesis 1. God works, Jesus worked in the flesh and continues to work now, and the Holy Spirit works mightily within us. To work is to reflect God's character and to fulfill the charge He gave us. He created, and then commissioned us to colabor with Him in His creation to cultivate human flourishing. Therefore, all work can be sacred, not just mine.

And therefore, what I do is "work." It's a way to cultivate human flourishing, just like your work. So I should call it "work."

For me to refuse to use that common word has been an act of arrogance that also perpetuated bad theology. For that I apologize.

Wally Speaks: Being There

The office bore the scars of a neglectful three years. Dimly lit, monochromatically drab with tired furniture that squeaked from old age and piles of forgotten papers, the "pastor's office" housed more artifacts than conversations. It slow-cooked every occasional visitor to help reduce the electric bill, and only a handful of the church's attenders could even tell you where it was. Every Tuesday afternoon for a semester, I traded beads of sweat in that room for the advantage of sitting with the interim pastor, a man worn peaceful over forty years serving others as a pastor and mentor throughout Southern California. He was Wally Norling, and those future pastors he mentored were called "Wally's Boys" (Larry Osborne, for example). Wally passed away in 2010.

I wasn't afforded enough time with Wally to ever warrant the label. But his soft-spoken, confident advice still props up much of what I do and how I do it. The contrast of his seasoned, cool wisdom and that sauna of a tattered room only amplified his gentle words - the church building is merely a prop on a larger stage. More importantly, ministry looks a lot like a mentor and his apprentice sitting together and not at all like a church calendar spilling over with harried activities.

Our paths to these meetings bore no resemblance to one another. He determined to be pastor at age 5, and was a shepherd to his very core all his days. I left behind 15 years of software at age 35 to attend seminary, and was well-versed in all the people skills you'd expect in a computer programmer. I was 40 years his junior, knowing nothing of that which came so effortlessly to him. By the way he answered me, I could usually tell when I accidentally asked a meaningful question. One of my best questions was hatched after my first "pastoral" hospital visit.

A dear, elderly lady had fallen dangerously ill and was only partially responsive, bedridden as she recovered in a rehab facility. Armed with every bit of the bedside manner one gains from coding C++, I fumbled, stuttered, and awkwardly silenced my way through 30 minutes that I later prayed her illness would prevent her from remembering. Happily, she recovered over time ... and never once mentioned that I had visited her. Whether that was illness or grace matters little to me.

In my next meeting with Wally, I managed slightly better verbal skills to mutter a mess of questions asking how to handle such situations - what to say, how to make people feel better, how to help them put illness in great, theological perspective, and so on. In effect, I was asking how to "fix" the situation like I was accustomed to fixing bugs in software.

Wally simply said, "90% of ministry is just being there." A lot like the time he had been spending with me, patiently waiting for one of my questions to be substantive.

Get out a concordance of the Bible. Search for "thou shalt fix." Nothing. No variation, no similar phrase. Search of "one another," and you'll quickly have a long list. Look for how many times the Lord reassures us by simply saying, "I am with you" or "I will be with you" or "I will never leave you." Even the Lord says, "A great deal of My ministry to you is just being with you."

Be there. Put "fixing stuff" way down on the list. Be there when people are sick and non-responsive. Be there when they have gotten fired. Be there when their dog dies. Be there when they are mad at God. Be there when they are drunk, in jail, stranded in the mud of their own creation, or cursing the whole world, including you. Be there when you don't know what to say or what to do. If you can convey that "I'm here to demonstrate that the Lord will never forsake you," you have done 90% of ministry.

3mm v. 180 lbs

A 3mm stone was pitted against a 180-lb man ... and the stone won. Most of you know that I was recently knocked out of the game for most of a week due to a kidney stone. Those who've had them know - those who haven't can only guess about the intense pain stones can cause. The first day that I tried to make it back into the office, our Admin (Christina) texted the chairman of the Elders (her husband, Dan) suggesting that he call me to tell me to go back home. Apparently, I didn't look so good. (I called it quits before Dan had a chance to call, because I didn't feel so good, either.)

Many of you expressed sympathy, offered prayers, and were eager to help out in any way possible. There was nothing really that you could have done (unless you could have somehow had the stone instead of me - any takers?), but the consistent, heartfelt offers were therapeutic in themselves. It made recovery far easier to tolerate. So, thanks to all of you - you did in fact make me feel better, which is what I needed most.

What impressed me about this whole episode was just how quickly I was taken out of commission. I was feeling a little off for about a week, but that Saturday morning, strong pain came on quickly, and then strong pain became intense pain in just minutes, and then I was useless for days. I was taken out of making progress on my house todo list, I was taken out of being able to ride my bike, I was taken out of going to the store, and after the pain meds, I was taken out of being able to sustain connected thoughts.

But I was most struck by how quickly I was taken out of ministry. In a matter of minutes, there were very few of the things I normally do in ministry that I could continue doing. Even praying was hard to sustain. Just like that - I could do basically none of it.

That didn't strike at my identity (which can happen when a man is unable to do his job), but it was a fresh reminder of what a privilege vocational ministry is. Even considering all the hard, stressful, heartbreaking, frustrating, thankless, fruitless, burdensome moments that inevitably occur, I realized anew what an amazing privilege you allow me to have. Even just the thought of not being able to do this ever again makes me profoundly sad. If the Lord takes me out of it, we'd adjust, of course, but it would mean a tremendous time of mourning for me.

Thanks for the prayers and offers of help. Thanks for the privilege of serving you.

Sidebar: Thanks, Jimmy, for being called off the bench late in the 9th inning and still being able to bring in the winning run. Great job pinch hitting.

I'm sorry I'm in your way

We have just reached the halfway point in Ephesians. The first three chapters are primarily about what's true ("indicative"), and the last three chapters are more about what to do ("imperative"). We are presently right between the two halves, holding in our back pocket what we have learned about God's work while reaching forward to how those truths should find be expressed in how we walk day after day.

One thing that is abundantly clear from those first three chapters is that the real power that changes our lives is not our lone effort, but the very hand of God. He called us and provided salvation for us (chapter 1), He made us alive and brought us near (chapter 2), and He displays His manifold wisdom and can fill us beyond our own ability to imagine (chapter 3). The hand that truly changes lives is not mere flesh.

Therefore, the ideal in ministry is to cultivate God's work in the lives of people. Not to do the work, not to be the hero, not to implement the jazziest program, and not to have all the answers. Rather, the best we can do in ministry is provide the ripest environment for someone to receive the only real work that changes us in eternal ways. A farmer doesn't make plants grow - but he works hard to create the richest environment for that growth to occur.

However, sometimes in our efforts, we get in the way. More to the point, sometimes I get in the way. Just recently, as I was mowing the lawn (so, you know it wasn't all that recent), I was tumbling through my head several ways that I have gotten in the way. In just about every area of responsibility, I can name ways that I have occasionally gotten in the way instead of making the way straight. Teaching, administrating, communicating, preaching, praying, counseling, coaching - you name an area, I can point to ways that I get between God's power and the people I'm supposed to be assisting.

For that, I apologize. And I admit that I have not yet figured out how to keep out of the way, so I will get in the way again. But I'm interested in far more than issuing an apology for past and future shortcomings. My main purpose here is to encourage all of us, including me, to be ongoing students of what it really means that only God's power transforms.

Whether we are teaching or sharing our faith or being involved in ministry activities, how can we get out of the way? How are we tempted to get in the way, and then how can we step aside? How can we prepare the soil for God's power to be most effective in others (and in ourselves)? For example, do I teach in a way that adds the burden of lone human effort, or do I connect people with God's potent eagerness to be at work in us?

I'm prompted to write not because of some particular incident, and I'm not beating myself up. But I did have one of those too-infrequent moments of clarity in seeing some specific ways where my efforts occlude rather than reveal. I suspect that I'm not alone in this. With our continued partnership, we have everything we need in order to have a greater impact by learning better how to just get out of the way.

Of course, that only makes sense if God's power is in fact reliable. It comes down to whether or not we really believe this to be true.

Outreach Month

We have chosen May to be "Outreach Month" - a month that we focus on various outreach ministries that we are connected to. Our goal is to make us all more aware of what's going on in our own area, to pray more specifically, and to show that outreach is not all that scary, hard, or demanding. What is needed most is a willing spirit.

On May 1, we focused on Awana, an outreach held in our own church, reaching over 100 kids every week, some of whom do not regularly attend a church. Jim Riddle (the commander for the last 6 years) told us why it's worth the effort.

On May 8, we focused on Bridge of Hope, and EV Free church in Kansas City, KS, reaching many of society's forgotten citizens. Andy and Sarah Weichelt let us know all that they are involved in. Please remember "MegaDay" coming up on Saturday!

On May 15, our focus will be on Christ Community Downtown, a church soon to be planted in downtown KC. Bill Gorman will share the vision, and then share the Word.

On May 22, we will hear from Dan and Joy, missionaries visiting us for the first time in a while, and will share about their work in Central Asia.

On May 29, Dr. Bascom Ratliff from Hope Harbor will share what's going on right in our own building 3 times a week, and how we can reach out to their counseling clients. Also, we will hear from the Kenya 2011 Mission Team, who leave in about 6 weeks.

There are far more we could highlight, and we will on future dates.

Allow the Lord to put a particular prayer burden on your heart, and then be faithful to pray. We can't all be completely concerned with every ministry, so allow Him to direct you. Also, pray about ways that you can push the envelope and be involved in one of the outreach ministries Grace is involved in.

A big thanks to Tom Bender, our Deacon of Outreach, for putting "Outreach Month" together.