Jerry Clower, the country comedian from Mississippi who kept us in laughter for a generation as no one else could, was once accused of having a big ego. “Sure I have an ego,” he would say. “Everyone needs an ego. If you don’t have one, go out and get you one! You’re going to be needing it!”
He was right, of course, so long as we bear in mind that by “ego” he meant a healthy self-respect. I spent a good deal of time with him and never saw any of the kind of ego we usually associate with “stars.”
David N. Meyer wrote the 2007 biography of country musician Gram Parsons he called “Twenty Thousand Roads.” It’s a sad tale of a lot of talent combined with too much privilege and money topped off by endless drugs and booze. I read it only because I had remembered Emmylou Harris remarking how much she personally owed to Parsons for his contributions to her art.
Toward the end of the book, Meyer is commenting on the difficulty of researching such a story. There’s no point in questioning the stars about what conversations and events. “For stars, nothing ever happened if it didn’t happen to them. If you want the details of the valence of a recording studio, don’t ask the guitar hero, ask the guitar tech.”
If you are the pastor of a church or in the ministry in any way, you may not need this reminder. In a perfect world, all ministers would have sweet spirits and servant attitudes and would be generous, faithful, and honest. Alas, it’s not a perfect world. Not even close.
When a pastor I know fell into sin–it was revealed that he had been a serial adulterer–and the public disgrace that accompanied that revelation, a former staff-member had an interesting insight into his character. “He let everyone put him on a pedestal. And man, he did love his pedestal.”
It’s not a good thing to say about our segment of the Christian church, but let a man pastor a great church (translation: congregations of thousands, budgets of millions, with public acclaim) and he will be idolized as more than he is by large numbers of people. If his ego is fragile and requires adulation, he will soon believe he is the greatest thing on the planet.
Some friends of mine moved across the street from Adrian and Joyce Rogers in Memphis. Dr. Adrian Rogers, now in Heaven, served the great Bellevue Baptist Church there for over 30 years and built an incredible record. He was on world-wide television and his books sold in huge numbers. One day, my friend Bob called to his wife, “Wanda, come quick! Dr. Rogers is taking his garbage cans out to the street!”