I don’t know anyone who wants to be miserable in anything, much less in serving the Lord, but some people give the appearance of working hard to achieve it.

Here are three self-destructive things (you’ll think of a hundred) we ministry-persons do which undermine our effectiveness in the work and fuel the angst of frustration which many people live with on a daily basis….

1) Expect to be paid what you think you’re worth.

Figure out what you are being paid, then total up the number of hours you put in, and divide the second into the first.  The result is your wages per hour.  Disgusting, ain’t it? (smiley-face here)

There is perhaps no more certain path to misery in the ministry than to estimate your own personal value based on such factors as years of training, the degrees you hold, and the tenure you have logged in the Lord’s work, and expect to be paid appropriately.  If this misery is not enough for you, then figure in the number of children you have, the hours your spouse invests in the ministry too (all of it unpaid), and the errands your children run for church members.  You will not, of course, ask to be recompensed for any of that, but dwelling on it makes you feel worse, and after all, that was the point in the first place.

In retirement, the math for certain misery gets easier.  You were invited for a specific event–a retreat for which you were the speaker, a banquet you did, a revival you preached for a church–and when it was over they handed you a check.  You have no trouble at all counting the miles you traveled, the hours you spent in your car, and the costs associated with your trip: meals, tips, dry cleaning bill, and other incidentals.  Then, you figure out the actual number of hours/days at that church, and compare to the numbers on the check you were paid.

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“There  is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free man, there is neither male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus” (Galatians 3:28).

I’m a Southern Baptist pastor. I am a 74 year old male.

And I blog, mostly for pastors and church leaders within the context of churches like ours.

They’re the only kind of churches I know.

(As a child, I attended the Free Will Baptist Church in rural Alabama and the Methodist Church in rural West Virginia, before they became “United Methodists.”  As a 19-year-old college student, the Lord led me to become Southern Baptist. I have lived and worshiped and served within that context ever since.  As a pastor, it’s all I know.)

I don’t write for Catholics, although if they read my stuff and find something useful, I’m delighted. I don’t write for the United Methodists, with their district superintendents and bishops and annual appointments, but am always pleased when they tell me some of these writings have proven helpful.

I don’t write for women pastors, but am pleased when they say these articles have been of assistance in their ministries.

No Catholic writes to criticize because I don’t mention the pope and nuns and their saints. No UMC pastors criticize because I fail to take into consideration how they do things. But women pastors regularly let me know they are offended by my use of the pronoun “he” in referring to pastors.

Most are gracious in pointing out what they consider my slight and/or oversight, which I appreciate. I’m not naturally confrontational and appreciate kindness from one writing to point out my errors. I would rather make love than war, as the 1960s slogan put it.

But, I need to say something here.

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