Trying to explain to someone what it's like to be a pastor is not an easy thing to do. So many are under the assumption that we preach a couple of times a week, attend a few meetings, and the rest of the time we play golf or have lunch with friends, that it's a pretty cushy gig. For some, I guess, it's just a job. For most, it's a calling. How do you explain a calling?
Their are times when every pastor questions whether they are meant to fulfil this calling. The three times a week I preach are actually the easiest times for me. I know this is the central part of the calling, to proclaim truth from God's word, and it is where I feel the most free. When you are preaching and teaching, it's wholly about what God says, and all I have to do is communicate that. I know many pastors who have constant nervousness about preaching, but I never have. It's the most comfortable part of being a pastor for me. It's something I know I'm called by God to do, and I know that when I communicate His word well, it has nothing to do with me. It's Him working through me. But honestly, that's just a portion of being a pastor. What being a pastor is truly about is dealing with people, and this.....this, can be a struggle of the nth degree.
Dealing with people is a tricky thing as a pastor. People come to you for advice, for counsel, to unload life's frustrations. Your words carry weight with them and you are always wary of saying something that may influence them in the wrong way. Many times they expect you to have the answers to the most difficult questions about their lives. They look to you for spiritual and day-to-day guidance, and so often do not realize how inadequate you can feel in dealing with things their are no easy answers for. Sure, you can quote the bible to them. Show them scripture to instruct, and pray with them from your heart, but far more is required if you are truly called to be a pastor.
Not to get to specific, but this week presented many such situations. A friend came to me on Monday with an excruciatingly difficult situation regarding a child. It's a situation no parent would ever want to find themselves in. What do you say? Is God's word and praying with them enough? Probably not, but you take comfort in knowing you are there for them, whatever may come. What else can you do?
Tuesday brings an extremely early morning as you are attending discipleship classes at another church at 6:00 AM to help edify yourself. It's good as a pastor to sit under someone else's teaching, as most of the time you are the teacher. It's an African-American church and you have openly shared with them that through this you hope to build some relationships for future cooperation, as the church you serve is in a largely African-American neighborhood and the cultural challenges are immense. You really enjoy it, but it is a challenge sometimes to just not blow it off. You need rest, but you know you need this personally and for the ministry in your care. You're refreshed as usual during a weekly prayer group at your church, but then, your day is full, preparing for a huge event Wednesday night.
On Wednesday your church is hosting it's largest outreach event of the year, our Fall Festival. We put a lot of effort in to this and have been working on things for weeks. Putting out hundreds and hundreds of fliers in the neighborhood. Organizing volunteers and food. Decorating and preparation of our facilities. Filling bags with candy. And then the night arrives, and you are simply overwhelmed by the crowd that shows up! Countless children and families, many faces you've never seen. It's exactly what you've hoped for, but you look around and know, you don't have the manpower to handle it. It was like herding cats or catching a butterfly, or hitting a knuckleball. They are right in front of you, yet somehow, out of reach. It's exhilarating and frustrating all at the same time. You attempt to share the gospel over the roar of more children than the building can hold who are all ready for their candy, knowing it's falling on deaf ears for the most part, yet you do it. You persist. It's a main reason you have such events, as if only one person hears God's truth, it's worth it, and some do! At the end you are ready for it to be over, yet when it is, and you see the names and addresses collected, the people you now have an opportunity to reach out to on a more personal level, though totally spent, you rejoice. You rejoice, with a full understanding that the work from this event has just begun.
On Thursday you mix in your normal duties. Website maintenance and updating it for November. Typing a church newsletter. Sermon prep for Sunday. You do your ministerial visits which can be draining. Spending time with a woman who has had a stroke and can no longer speak. A gentleman with Alzheimers disease. A dear homebound couple who in your heart you know should be in assisted living, but all the while knowing it's their decision.
On Thursday night you receive a call from a friend in the town you last pastored in to let you know that two of your former flock(is there such a thing?) are in the hospital in your current city. On your off day Friday you visit them and both are dealing with illnesses that could end their lives. You still love and care for them, and it hurts to see them this way, but you encourage, and prepare them as best you can. You get home emotionally spent. Your wife has had to work well in to the night unscheduled and comes home equally drained. Neither of you handle it well and you have a spat. At the end of the night you thank God you have an understanding wife and you go to bed with things settled, at least between the two of you.
Saturday brings the funeral of one of the children of a dear lady in your congregation. A child she has watched and suffered with as he has battled cancer for two years. Her pain has been palpable for what seems like forever. She is such a dear lady you wish there were something, anything you could do, but their is not. At least now it's over, and she has closure. But you know the healing will be long in coming.
Sunday brings the freedom of teaching and preaching. First a Sunday school class and then the morning message. It's well received and you are encouraged. Then a frequent visitor asks to speak with you. Problems in their marriage. Can you, will you help? Honestly, I don't know if I can. I'm a pastor, not a biblical marital counselor. You really like these people and with all your heart want to see them reconcile. So you agree to meet, all the while, planting the seed that they will probably need someone more qualified than you. Thankfully you know someone, and you immediately pray something can be worked out to transition them from yourself to them without breaking the trust and confidence they have in coming to you. A trip to the hospital follows to see your old friends and you've already arranged to meet the son of one of them there. It's a good, positive meeting under difficult circumstances. You have the assurance that they are saved and that the family is prepared, yet it still hurts to see someone you love dying.
You get home physically and emotionally exhausted but the evening service awaits so there is very little down time. And as you arrive, in the dark for the first time in months, you are greeted by 20-30 of your children and youth already at church 45 minutes before it begins, and it hits you. Wow! This is what it's all about. This is why you do it. You smile, and spend time with them as the adults arrive, and it's still like herding cats, until the workers in our children's ministry get there. You teach. You have fun doing so. You've endured, and you know, you could never do it on your own. But you don't have to, as being a pastor is not about you. It's about doing what God has called you to do.
This week was one of those challenging weeks. To be honest, I've felt totally inadequate at times. But as the night closed this evening and a long week ended, I felt an undeniable affirmation from within that I'm doing exactly what I'm supposed to be doing. I guess that's how you know your are called. Most pastors I've known with any longevity would admit that they would often prefer to be doing something else, but inside, you know you can't. It wasn't your choice to be a pastor, it was God's. In that, you persevere, and yes, you enjoy. If you can simply admit you'll never have all the answers, but you can have a very positive influence, it's not such a bad gig.
