On the Brink

Grace for the Burned-Out Pastor

Clay Werner

• Publisher: P Publishing
• Year: 2014
• Print ISBN: 9781596388987
• eBook ISBN: 9781596388994
• Topic: Theology & Religion
• Subtopic: Christian Ministry

As we learn from Christ's crucifixion, loving sinners hurts—really hurts. Yet God gives strength. Here pastors and church leaders will rediscover the gospel's soul-sustaining comfort amid ministry challenges.

1

Seeing Him Who Is Invisible

After a remarkably grueling and severely discouraging leadership meeting in the middle of a churchwide, long-term, multiyear conflict, I met with an elder while I sobbed uncontrollably. I was tired and exhausted, had lost all hope, questioned why I ever went into ministry, and practically promised that he would have my resignation in the mail in a few days. In my heart, I had really committed to quitting, demitting the ministry, and moving closer to family to get a high school teaching job, coach football, and be a rafting guide during the summers (this was my original life goal before God seemingly messed it up by calling me into ministry). In the meantime, I was going to go sit next to a river in the middle of the Smoky Mountains and have a temper tantrum with God.

It was in those mountains that I picked up my Bible and prayed about what I needed to read to find encouragement. I read and reread and cried through Exodus and Numbers. I marked all the times Israel rebelled. Angrily, I circled every time the word grumble or complain showed up. Pridefully, I paid careful attention to how difficult it must have been for Moses to lead a people who were so hard-hearted and rebellious, immature and impossible. I began to sympathize with Moses. If he and I could have met at Starbucks, he would have gone beyond sympathy and actually empathized with me and all I was going through. I was sure he could give me some wise counsel. Perhaps he would tell me to get out while I could, while I still had a little skin left, and do something less painful and debilitating than leading God’s people. I felt like Moses’ anger justified my own anger.

Next I turned to the Gospels and marked every time the disciples failed or said something silly or disappointed Jesus. I paid careful attention to the times when Jesus was deeply grieved in his heart over the hardness of his own disciples. Deep down in a hidden place in my heart, I secretly whispered to myself, “See! Even Jesus can sympathize with how difficult leadership is. If he sat with me at Starbucks, we could swap stories about how awful and tiring leading sheep can be!” At this point, I was becoming pretty happy with myself—perhaps I could continue in ministry. Just follow the example of Moses and Jesus; commit to getting thicker skin and a deeper resolve; commit to being more vocal and rebuking people more often. I was on the fence, not knowing which way to go: was Jesus leading me to resign or not to resign? I was hoping for a still small voice, but all I heard was rippling water and the sound of tourists driving by.

But there was one thing I was missing, and it was the most important thing—the gospel. I had totally missed it. I had a blame-retardant coating on my heart and refused to see the sin inside, yet I was relentless in pointing out the flaws of others. I identified myself as a leader, pastor, and shepherd, and had forgotten that I too was a hard-hearted, rebellious, idolatrous, angry, frustrated, slow-to-learn, impatient, prayerless sheep-disciple filled with self-righteous anger, fair-weather faith, and unrealistic and dangerous expectations of the sheep in the congregation I pastored. I wasn’t Moses or Jesus, but one of the complaining Israelites and one of the faltering disciples. The story of their faltering and their failure was the story of my heart. I was like Israel, constantly wanting to quit when things got tough, feeling entitled to better living conditions and more faithful followers. I was like the disciples, constantly grieving Jesus with my hard heart and slowness to learn.

I wept for hours. I had superficially prayed through phrases from Psalm 19 and 139: “show me my hidden faults”; “know my heart and thoughts and show me if there is any grievous way in me.” I just never really expected God to answer. But he did—again and again and again. My hard heart began to be softened through a gospel-focused, Spirit-empowered repentance. I wasn’t called to “be like Moses” and go back and tough it out. No, I was called to go back and keep the eyes of my heart firmly placed on the author and perfecter of my faith—the always perfect, never grumbling, always interceding, forgiving, patient, compassionate leader of the new and better exodus—Jesus Christ. He wasn’t just confronted with the grumbling and hard-heartedness of myself and all his people, but bore its condemnation and never complained—not once.

He responded with complete perfection to his Father’s will and never complained about it, but humbly submitted to becoming a curse for me and all the other grumbling and almost-quitting leaders of his people. He who never grumbled was condemned as a grumbler so that I might be accepted by the Father.

I took along a commentary that one of my seminary professors had written, and the knife of repentance was thrust deeper into my soul. In a powerful passage, he states that much of our frustrations come from trying to be the “functional saviors” of our people. If we could just “fix” our people, he writes, we would have a sense of personal achievement and joy.

“We would then be able to bask in the glory of our renovation, feeding our pride and sense of self-worth. The Holy Spirit, however, is not eager to share his glory. He bears his fruit in the lives of his people in his season, not ours, so that it may be clearly seen that the work is entirely of him.”9

I was trying to be a savior and play the role of the Spirit as a leader in the church, and I finally began to let go of the reigns of the universe and put the situation and the results back into the hands of my loving Father. By the faithful work of the Spirit, my eyes were redirected to the splendor and wonder of the gospel once again, and I sought for the remainder of my time to submit myself to the gospel surgery that Jesus had already begun in my life. I sought to place my own gospel renovation and the gospel renovation of the church I pastored back into the lap of the Holy Spirit, trusting in his sovereign work and sovereign timing—in my heart first, and then in theirs.

I’m always encouraged when I see leaders in the Bible want to give up. They deal with the same external problems and internal heart struggles that we do. It is here that Moses is a particularly helpful example. With our hearts focused on the gospel, we are now ready to dive into his story, which may have many similarities to your story. As we do, I’ll use Jonathan Edwards’s chapter on long-suffering in his book Charity and Its Fruits as a lens through which to read the story of Moses and gain pastoral insight for our own day-to-day ministry. If anyone had the pastorally earned authority to write on such a subject it was Edwards, who himself had gone through his fair share of crushing conflict.10

What Moses Endured

“Overwhelmingly difficult” doesn’t even begin to describe the life and calling of Moses. Perhaps “outrageously difficult” gets closer. His experience was heart crushing, soul depleting, mind numbing, strength sapping, frustrating, and exhausting. Reading the story of Moses in Exodus and Numbers in one sitting almost makes you wonder whether Moses was a real person. How can any mere human survive or even put up with being “provoked” for forty years (Heb. 3:15–17) by a hard-hearted, forgetful, stubborn, and rebellious people that he himself has helped to deliver? If I’m provoked for four minutes, I begin to lose it—but forty years? Can this really be true?

Edwards begins his chapter on long-suffering by stating the obvious but frequently forgotten truth that the ways in which we will be hurt or disappointed by others are various and innumerable.11 This is something that anyone involved in ministry is painfully reminded of on an almost daily basis. Before we move forward, then, it will be crucial to understand what Moses endured before we seek to answer the question of how he endured.

His life began with difficulty. His mother had to hide him and then send him away lest he be killed. He was raised by someone other than his own parents and in a foreign land. After seeing the suffering of his people, he initially tried to deliver them, but they didn’t understand him (Acts 7:23–28). He spent the next forty years in the howling wilderness. Would you have given up yet?

He then faced increasingly more difficult situations, with increasingly more challenging people. Early on in his calling, after a remarkable display of God’s terrifying, potentially death-causing glory, God told Moses that he would deliver the Israelites from the hand of Pharaoh. But think about it: God basically told him, “Moses, I want you to deliver my people. I’m going to crush Pharaoh into the dust of the earth. But just know this: when you tell him what you’re supposed to tell him, I’m going to harden his heart so that he won’t listen to you!” Interesting plan. Would you have given up yet?

God told Moses that the Israelites would listen to his voice (Ex. 3:18). Yet later on, we read, “they did not listen to Moses” (Ex. 6:9), and Moses complains to God about this very thing (6:12). In fact, you could accurately say that the exodus and the forty years in the wilderness were characterized by the Israelites refusing to listen to Moses (Acts 7:39). Have you ever wondered whether Moses began to think that God might have lied to him? What was God doing? Could his word be trusted? In the early days of Moses’ calling, God hardened Pharaoh’s heart, the people would not listen, and his life was threatened. Would you have given up yet?

Let’s get a more detailed picture of what Moses endured. Hatred would be an accurate term for how his own people frequently thought about him (Ex. 2:15; 5:21). If Moses didn’t provide what the people wanted, when they wanted it, stoning him always remained a possible option (Ex. 17:4; Num. 14:10). Although Moses was “very meek, more than all people who were on the face of the earth” (Num. 12:3), the people described Moses as a supremely prideful man, seeking his own glory in their deaths (Num. 16:3, 12–14). Israel could also be described as having spiritual Alzheimer’s or redemption amnesia and never being cured. They forgot God’s delivering power in the plagues when they were chased by Pharaoh’s army (Ex. 14:10–14). They forgot the parting of the Red Sea when they were confronted with the report of the spies returning from the Promised Land (Num. 13:31). They forgot the majesty of God’s glory and the importance of his authority and “turned aside quickly” to other idols (Ex. 32:8; Num. 25:1–3). They forgot God’s severe judgment on grumblers and rebels the day before, and continued grumbling the next day (Num. 16:41). After seeing displays of God’s glory in the pillar of fire and the cloud, hearing his voice from Mt. Sinai and his commands from Moses, enjoying his provision of water and manna and quail—after forty years of God’s incredible faithfulness—Israel had learned nothing and remained hard-hearted and rebellious. Would you have given up yet?

We should not forget two more things that Moses repeatedly endured: grumbling and betrayal. The Israelites had a selective and faulty memory, thinking that Egypt was paradise—where the weather was always nice, the food was always great, and life was always good—and supposing that anything less than going back was idiotic (Ex. 16:2, 7–9, 12; Num. 11:4–6; 14:1–4; 20:2–5; 21:5). They grumbled because God’s provision wasn’t as lavish and tasty as they would have liked (Ex. 15:24; 17:2). They grumbled because they were envious of Moses. In fact, to put it bluntly, in their minds anything and everything was a justifiable reason for grumbling (see especially Num. 11–14).

Moses also regularly felt the piercing and deep knife thrusts of betrayal. Aaron came up with the lame excuse that the golden calf magically appeared on its own (Ex. 32:2, 24), and later he teamed up with Miriam, out of severe envy, and sought to depose Moses (Num. 12:1–9). Two hundred and fifty men joined hands with Korah and viciously opposed Moses because they thought he was an arrogant son-of-a-gun, and afterward some of Moses’ most crucial leading men abandoned him (Num. 16). And that was just the tip of the iceberg! We could go on about the day-to-day complexities of the administration that was required in feeding and providing sacrifices for all Israel, or the constant political and military threat and opposition from outsiders, but you get the picture. Moses endured. Would you have given up yet?

Remarkably, even the end of Moses’ life was marked by difficulty. Even in his last days he didn’t get a reprieve. God announced that he would not let Moses into the Promised Land because he struck a rock rather than speaking to it (Num. 20). God also enabled Moses to see the future of Israel, and it was not full of roses and rainbows—their hardness and rebellion would only continue and worsen. They would be “devoured” and provoke the Lord to anger in such a way that he would abandon them (Deut. 31:17). Moses would see the Promised Land, but not enter it (Deut. 34). Yet Moses endured. He endured a difficult life and a difficult calling for 120 years.

The story of Moses, and perhaps your story, proves Edwards right on his first point—we will face various and innumerable situations and people that will deeply test and sadly try our patience and endurance over and over and over again.

Moses: Simultaneously Just and Sinner

After reminding us of the frequent need for endurance...

Table of contents

• Contents
• Foreword
• Acknowledgments
• Introduction
• 1. Seeing Him Who Is Invisible
• 2. External Pressures
• 3. Which Kingdom Come?
• 4. The Gift of Disillusionment
• 5. If the Resurrection Ain’t True, I’m Gonna Get Blitzed!
• Transition: The Remedy of the Cross
• 6. Resurrected to Life and Hope
• 7. Somebody Loves You
• 8. Diving into Difficulty
• 9. Longing for a Demotion
• 10. Fighting—for Unity
• 11. In It for the Long Haul
• Conclusion
• Notes