How to know you were called into the Lord’s work. (Or if you were not)

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My pastor friend was about to conduct the most difficult funeral of his nearly-twenty year ministry. He and I had discussed it and I had prayed for him. His heart was breaking for the young family that was laying to rest two close loved ones.

In a private moment, I said to him, “Pastor to pastor, I want to ask you something. Even though this is tearing your heart out, do you find yourself thinking, ‘I’d rather be here doing this than anywhere else in the world’?”

He said, “I do! I really do.”

I said, “That’s how you know you are really called to this work.”

He was quiet a moment, then added, “I tell my wife–pastors’ wives understand these things–that my favorite part of pastoring, what I do best, is the funeral of a Christian. It’s hard, it can be gut-wrenching, but this is our moment to shine, the event which brings together all the great stuff we believe so strongly.”

God-called pastors understand.

I have stood at the graveside of a two-year-old who had fought a valiant fight against leukemia, my heart almost as torn as the parents’, and thought, “Thank you, dear Lord, for calling me into this work. I’d rather be here than anyplace else on earth.”

Only the called will understand.

A friend and I were having a lengthy discussion about a pastor who had almost ruined his last two churches and in both cases, left under a cloud. My friend said, “The guy was in the ministry, he has seminary degrees, but honestly, I do not think God called him into this work.”

In a meeting with leaders of our denomination, one subject we discussed out of great concern but for which we had no solution, was “helping pastors know if they are called (or not) into the ministry.”

There ought to be a way to help uncalled ministers recognize their situation, so they can step away from this work and find something else to do.

Some will ask why, what difference it makes.

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On the shore, waiting to cross over to the other side

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“For I am already being poured out as a drink offering, and the time of my departure is at hand” (2 Timothy 4:6).

These days, to ride the Fort Morgan ferry across Mobile Bay to Dauphin Island, the cost for one car and two passengers is $27. That’s up considerably since the last time my wife and I rode it with our grandson.  Grant was about six, as I recall.

We had arrived at the ferry landing and took our place in line with other cars. I bought the ticket and we were milling around waiting for the ferry to arrive from the north shore.  Grant was apprehensive.

“Grandpa, are we going to cross that river?” I assured him we were.

“But there’s no bridge. Are we going to drive out in the water?”

I explained about the ferry boat.

“Grandpa, I’m afraid.”

I said, “Grant, you are with grandpa and grandma.  Do you know how much we love you? We are going to take care of you.  You have nothing to worry about.”

A half hour later, in the middle of Mobile Bay and standing on the deck of the ferry, my beloved grandson looked up, beaming. “Grandpa, this is fun.”

I smile at the memory.  It was indeed fun.

The story makes a point…

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Questionable things we pastors do–for which we shall give account

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“Lord, we saw someone who does not follow us casting out demons in Your name, and we forbade him because he does not follow us” (Mark 9:38).

Robert Schuller died in April of 2015. This founder of the Crystal Cathedral in California and founder/host of television’s Hour of Power broadcast was the “media pastor” to countless millions who would never have entered my church.  He wrote books, did a lot of good, did much that was questionable, and drove us traditionalists out of our collective minds.

A few days after Schuller’s passing, I posted this on my Facebook page:

My favorite Robert Schuller story: When he was a kid, his mother taught him piano lessons.  Once, in the middle of a recital, his mind went blank and he forgot the rest of the piece he was playing. There was nothing to do but walk off the stage in humiliation.  Later, his mother gave him some great advice. “Honey, any time you mess up in the middle of a piece, always end with a flourish and no one will ever remember what you did in the middle.”  Schuller would look at his congregation and say, “Some of you have messed up in the middle of your life.  But my friend, you can end with a flourish if you start now.”

It’s a great story, one I often use when speaking to senior adults.  It fits perfectly.

In 2015 when I posted the story, I suggested Facebook readers restrain from giving us their judgments of the man.  “He has One who will judge him, One far more qualified than you or I.  And since we will be needing mercy when we stand before Him, we want to show mercy toward everyone.”

The comments poured in quickly.

Most expressed appreciation for something Dr. Schuller had done or said, a few remembered visiting the Crystal Cathedral and gave us their lasting impressions, and several thanked me for the tone of my note.

None judged.

But the first time I told that story–I was the new pastor of that church–the reaction was entirely different.

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The most frightening thing about preaching

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It’s actually several facets of the same thing:  I’m speaking for God.

Imagine such a thing.

The God of the universe.  The Creator. Lord of every planet, every galaxy, every star.  And He makes me His spokesperson.

The Lord of eternity.  God of Heaven and earth.  And He calls me to be His personal representative.  Oh my.

From everlasting to everlasting, He is God.  He is in charge.  He holds us all in His hands.  He owns it all.  “If I were hungry, I would not ask you,” He says in Psalm 50.

And He calls a few of us to the assignment of opening His word and declaring His message, of speaking to people individually on HIs behalf, of being a priest, a spokesperson, a teacher, a preacher, an evangelist.  Oh my.

Whatever was He thinking???

I didn’t volunteer for this. I was drafted.  In my case, twenty-one years old and a college senior preparing to be a history professor, and I’m standing in the choir in Birmingham singing “Jesus Paid It All” while people are being saved during the Tuesday night service of a two week revival.  The pastor, Bill Burkett, was preaching that night.  Jim Carraway, billed as “the singing engineer” from Shreveport, was the singer.  I recall it as clearly as though it happened last night: The living God invaded my thoughts and said, I want you in the ministry.  That’s all.  Just, “I want you in the ministry.”

The call was not “to preach,” as many of my friends say theirs was.  To me, “in the ministry” ended up meaning a lot more than preaching.  I’ve been pastor of six churches, a staff member of two churches, the director of missions for 130 churches of metro New Orleans for five years, an evangelist, a writer, cartoonist, counselor, and a teacher/encourager of preachers.  And a few other things, seen only by the Father–and, if I’m any judge, important to Him.  And that is so encouraging.  And in all of these things, I was obeying the call.  As Paul said, “I was not disobedient to the Heavenly vision” (Acts 26:19).

That call came in April of 1961.  At this point, that was over 63 years ago, and I’m still at it.

You are looking at one blessed dude.

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How to be miserable in the ministry

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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.

Depressing, ain’t it?  (Answer: sometimes it is, sometimes it isn’t.  I’m amazed that after a check that barely covers your mileage, the next event will result in a check three times what you were expecting.  Anyway, back to the subject….)

Everyone starting out in ministry should be clear up front that the Lord Himself is their Source.  He is their portion, and they should look to Him.

The Lord is my Employer; I shall not want.

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How I want to be when I get old. If I do.

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This little incident popped up in my “Memories” today.  It was eight years back, but still valid….

The old man stood at the checker’s station in my grocery store. The line behind him stretched out for a half-dozen people.

He’d bought a few things, but the process of paying for it was taking forever.  He fumbled around in his pocket for his wallet, then struggled with it in search of his debit card, and only with the checker’s help was he able to insert it into the machine and complete the transaction.  In the process, he flirted with the lady behind him, the one just ahead of me, and made friendly comments to anyone else who might be overhearing this.

I was pleased to see both the checker and the customer were patient with him.

When he finished, the man seemed in no hurry to pick up his purchase and move out of the way for the next customer.  He looked at the line forming behind him and muttered something about being 82 years old, as though this were an achievement for which he was being honored.

You will not believe this since I’m writing about it, but I was not impatient with him, and said nothing to anyone.  I did not roll my eyes, did not react, but sent up a quick prayer for the man.

But I was warned.

“There,” everything inside me shouted, “is how you do not want to be when you get old.”

I smile at that.  “When I get old.” I’m only six years behind that fellow. So, am I old yet? And when will I know?  (As I say, it was eight years ago.  I’m now 84, two years past that guy.  Wonder how I’m doing?)

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Does “touch not mine anointed” refer to pastors?

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Do not touch My anointed ones, and do My prophets no harm.  –I Chronicles 16:22. (Psalm 105:15) 

A pastor who wants a free hand to come and go as he pleases chafes when told he is accountable to the membership or must report to a committee of members. The very idea!  He pulls out Psalm 105:15 and I Chronicles 16:22 and uses these as a battering ram on his people.

He bellows, “God’s Word says, ‘Touch not Mine anointed!’  It says, ‘Do My prophets no harm.’”

Then, he gives his twisted interpretation to his misconstrued favorite passage.

“This means no one in the church and no group is allowed to criticize the pastor.  God’s messengers answer only to God!”

The only problem with that is it just isn’t so.

No one is above criticism or accountability.  No one has a free hand to do with the people of God as he pleases.

Scriptures call the church by many names: “the Bride of Christ” (Ephesians 5:25-27; Revelation 19:7-9; 21:1-2), “the household of God, the church of the living God, the pillar and foundation of the truth” (I Timothy 3:15), and “the Body of Christ” (I Corinthians 12:27 and Ephesians 4:12).  But nowhere is it the toy of the pastor, the playground or proving ground of preachers, the personal possession of ministers.

Here is what the Apostle Peter said to preachers:

Shepherd the flock of God which is among you, serving as overseers, not by compulsion, but willingly; not for dishonest gain but eagerly;  nor as being lords over those entrusted to you, but being examples to the flock. And when the Chief Shepherd appears, you will receive the crown of glory that fades not away.  (I Peter 5:2-4)

The pastor is not the lord of the congregation.  As the overseer, he is an example for God’s people, the role model.  The people are entrusted to the minister and he will give account for each of them before God (Hebrews 13:17).

Instead of announcing his sovereignty and proclaiming his independence, a faithful pastor will concentrate on showing God’s people how to love and serve, how to humble themselves and bless one another.

I worry about pastors who play the headship card.  He tells the church, “As God has made the husband the head of the home and of the wife, He made the pastor the head of the church.”

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Seven reasons God wants unity in His churches

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It don’t mean a thing if it ain’t got that swing.

When we call for unity in the church, t’s not just that we don’t want dissent. It’s not that we hate division, although we do that.

Unity is far more than the nay-sayers being gagged or rebellion put down. The old joke goes, “You can tie two cats’ tails together and throw them over the clothesline and you’ll have union. But you will not have unity.”

Unity is a positive quality.

When the oaring team refers to perfect moments in their boat, they do not mean the time they won a race. A perfect moment is when they feel all eight oars in the water together, working in perfect harmony.

At such moments, we’re told, the boat seems to lift right out of the water. Oarsmen call this the moment of swing.

In an old Readers Digest article, Olympic oarsman John Biglow says what he likes most about that perfect moment is it allows one to trust the other rowers. A boat does not have “swing,” he says, unless everyone is exerting equal effort, and only because of that was there the possibility of true trust among oarsmen.

The athletes put it in the form of a formula:

Equal Effort + Synchronization + Lift = Trust.

Now, if we apply this to the body of Christ–a local congregation is usually a lot more than eight people, but regardless of the number–we will see what lessons of harmony and unity it yields.

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The biggest problem I have in worship

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I can worship anywhere, and often have. A creekbank, a busy sidewalk, in my car, at the library, anywhere.

I can worship alone or with one or two or with a crowd.

My opinion is that I worship best in a group of God’s people. I sing better and louder, am inspired by the devotion of others, and enjoy hearing God’s preaching more while I’m with the family.

Our Lord Jesus knew we worship better with our brethren than alone. He said, “Where two or three are gathered together in my name, I am there in the midst of them” (Matthew 18:20). God’s word reminds us not to “forsake the assembling of yourselves together, as the manner of some is,” but to encourage one another (Hebrews 10:25).

I cannot explain how the Lord is more present when I among a group of believers than otherwise, but there it is.  I’ve found that to be the reality.

I love to worship with the Lord’s family.

And that’s the problem.

Those same people in the room who often bless and inspire my worship may end up as a hindrance to my worship.

–Some may be carrying bad attitudes.  Sometimes, a few are mad at the preacher. Some married couples are angry with each other and have brought that coldness to church with them.  A few husbands were coerced by their wives into coming and their faces are not keeping it a secret.

–Among the rest, not everyone is worshiping. They’ve come for a hundred reasons other than to bow down before the Living God and “give Him the glory due His name.”

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Doing the right thing when no one is watching

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“God is Watching.”  –sign over the door of Gwen Williams’ home in Picayune, Mississippi.

Longtime United Methodist Pastor John Ed Mathiston told his congregation in Montgomery, Alabama a story about kindness.

“Not long ago, a man from the Middle East walked into a new car showroom and asked to speak with a particular salesperson.  The receptionist called for him, the fellow walked to the front, and they greeted each other.

The foreigner said, “I’d like to buy some trucks.”

Some trucks. That caught the sales guy’s attention.

“What did you have in mind, sir?”

“I want to buy 750 heavy duty trucks and 250 pickups.”

The salesman is stunned.  Surely someone is pulling a prank.  This cannot be happening.

The Middle Easterner pulls out a letter of credit with a huge American bank.  It is legitimate. This is the real deal.

The salesman says, “Sir, you know you can go to Detroit and buy those trucks at a huge discount.”

The customer said, ”Sir, ten years ago I was a college student in your city.  Being from the Middle East made it hard for Americans to befriend me.  I soon discovered you have to have a car in America, so I came to you.  I picked out a car.  You said to me, ‘I can sell you that car and I’ll make a nice commission. But you would not be happy with it.  It’s more car than you need.’ So you sold me a smaller car.  It was the nicest thing anyone in America had ever done for me.  And I decided I would repay you when I got a chance.  So, I want to buy one thousand trucks through you.”

Sometimes small acts of kindness reap great rewards.  But whether they do or do not, doing right is always the right thing to do.

Historians tell us that Admiral Isoroku Yamamoto studied and traveled in America in the 1920s.  He was once turned away from a San Francisco barber shop because he was Japanese.  And he never forgot the slight.  In 1941 and for two years after, he oversaw Japan’s attacks on the United States, at Pearl Harbor and beyond. (He was killed while flying over the Pacific during the war.)

We may assume the barber went home that day without a clue as to the chain of events he had just triggered.  (Or at least, contributed to.)  Just a small thing, showing prejudice to someone with no power.  Surely nothing would ever come from that.  He’d done it countless times.

Showing kindness or acting with malice–just a small thing.  And in most cases, it goes unnoticed.

But the Heavenly Father sees. And it matters to Him.

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