GREEN PASTORS: Note To Self - Lessons I Keep Learning (And Forgetting)

Have you ever watched a dog chase his tail? Pastoring often feels like walking in circles. I find myself stumbling through and learning lessons the hard way. Upon reflection, those lessons are repeat courses. Relearning what I had already applied and forgot led me to write this article for myself. You may need to tuck this away, too. Here are a few lessons I keep coming back to:

• God is in control of His ministry. The temptation to believe working harder, planning harder and preaching stronger could cause the church to grow plagues me. Ministry belongs to God, not us. God builds His church (Matt. 16:18). He calls ministers (every church member) to be faithful — not frantic. When I forget this, I start acting like everything depends on me. My delusion inevitably leads to God’s gentle discipline rather than His blessing in my life. Solomon wrote, “Unless the Lord builds the house, those who build it labor in vain…” (Psa. 127:1 ESV).

• Creativity is part of God’s design in us. Gary Fitzpatrick shared, “A rut is a grave with both ends kicked out.” Settling into ruts by maintaining tired programs and routines comes naturally in ministry. God’s people depend on Him. Christians marvel at God’s infinite creativity when we reflect on the biblical creation account. He created everything out of nothing! And He made us in His image. Ministry should maintain space for experimentation. Not every idea will work, and that’s okay. Trying new preaching, discipleship and outreach approaches can reflect God working through us. When the time came for Israel to construct the Tabernacle in the wilderness, Moses acknowledged the creative attributes of Bezalel and Oholiab. Let’s depend on God to fill us with the “…Spirit of God, with skill, with intelligence, with knowledge, and with craftsmanship” to accomplish the work He has entrusted to us (Exod. 35:31).

• Ministry should be fun. If serving Jesus feels like drudgery, you messed up somewhere along the way. Don’t let ministry become consumed with survival rather than joy. After all, the joy of the Lord is our strength (Neh. 8:10). While the critics will accuse lightheartedness, laughter and celebration of succumbing to superficial cultural trends, nothing penetrates the heart more than the universal language of the heart. Jean Arceneaux wrote a poem about growing up in the Cajun region of Louisiana, when the school systems forced Creole out of the students. Here’s my translation of his conclusion: “When we must laugh, what language do we laugh in? And crying — what language do we cry in? And screaming, and singing, and loving and living?” If you’re struggling to find motivation for the day, go have lunch with a church member; the “work” will be there tomorrow.

• You’re not alone — even when it feels like it. Pastoring can feel lonely. For that matter, serving in any ministry can become isolating. This reality may even be more pressing in small churches. Everything doesn’t fall on our shoulders. We serve the body of Christ and the body of Christ surrounds us. We can rely on others without shirking our responsibility. Moses had Aaron, Paul had Timothy and we need people, too. The Bible teaches us that delegation is a wise principle (Exod. 18:17-23).

• Practical application outweighs nuanced theology. I love deep theological exploration and enjoy challenging myself to understand perspectives with which I don’t agree. I find encouragement in the challenge of practicing good theology. However, most of the people who hear me teach need something they can apply to their lives on Monday morning more than they need to understand the nuance I explored in my preparation. Jesus taught with clarity and practical wisdom. I’ve missed the mark if my teaching doesn’t move beyond theory to life (James 1:22). True theology should lead to practical doxology.

• How I walk matters as much (or more) than what I say. A good sermon can quickly unravel because of a poor example. My leadership in the church means nothing if my character doesn’t align with what I teach. Integrity, consistency and humility matter more than eloquence (Titus 2:7-8). When Paul found the church he planted in Corinth experiencing the strife of ideological differences, he shifted the conversation from what he had taught them to what he demonstrated for them (I Cor. 11:1). Can we do the same? Can I ask others to follow me with a clear conscience?

• Preaching to impress is a trap. As a young pastor, I recognize the importance of wielding the powerful Word of God as the means through which lives are transformed. I aspire to be a great preacher. I listen to many outstanding preachers to learn from them. I want my congregation to enjoy the messages I prepare. However, I can’t live for their applause. If I lived for their appreciation, I’d be crushed by their criticism. (Besides, I criticize myself enough.) Faithfulness to God means preaching shouldn’t showcase my skill but magnify Christ (I Cor. 2:1-5).

• Conflict is unavoidable, but bitterness is a choice. After diligent, consistent and tiring work to understand the Bible and its message, I’m surprised that people disagree with me. Some people leave. Some choose to stop engaging with me. Others criticize from the sidelines. It hurts. It feels personal. However, that’s all part of ministry. How I respond reveals whether God shaped my thoughts or if my prideful nature is surfacing again. I can grow bitter, or I can remain gracious. I can’t control how others respond, but I can control how I love them (Rom. 12:18). I choose to trust God.

• Keep walking. I’ll need this letter to myself again. Probably embarrassingly soon, I’ll stumble over myself and need to be reminded through the hard-learned lessons of failure to pursue God. Maybe that’s the point. Ministry is a journey, not a destination. As I keep my eyes on the Good Shepherd, I’ll be heading in the right direction — even if I need the occasional reminder.