That Their Work Will Be a Joy

Understanding and Coping with the Challenges of Pastoral Ministry

Lee, Fredrickson

• Publisher: Cascade Books
• Year: 2012
• eBook ISBN: 9781621894414
• Topic: Theology & Religion
• Subtopic: Religion

For those who are called to it, pastoral ministry can be a source of deep joy. But there are also challenges. An increasing number of pastors seem to be burning out under the load. Congregations may not be aware of the many and conflicting demands placed on a pastor's time and energies, nor the pastor's need for rest and personal support. That Their Work Will Be a Joy was written to encourage mutual understanding between pastors and congregations about the stresses of ministry. The authors present five principles that will help ministry remain more of a joy than a burden. Every chapter contains practical recommendations targeted specifically for pastors, congregational leaders, and even seminarians preparing for ministry. A dozen personal responses to the book, written as letters from people in ministry, have been collected together at the end.The book is helpful as a ministry preparation text, a guide for those serving as pastors, or as a discussion starter for pastors support groups. It will help church committees smooth a pastoral transition, or calm seminary graduates anticipating their first placement. The hope is that stressed-out pastors will recover their sense of vocation, and congregations will begin to fulfill their calling as the body of Christ.

Part 1

The Context of Ministry

1

The Joy and Burden of Being a Pastor

Have confidence in your leaders and submit to their authority, because they keep watch over you as those who must give an account. Do this so that their work will be a joy, not a burden, for that would be of no benefit to you.

—Hebrews 13:17

With trembling and joy, the pastor works that fateful space between here and the throne of God. This yoke, while not always as easy as Jesus implies, is often quite joyful. It is a joyful thing to be a pastor, to have one’s life drawn toward dealings that are divine; to bear burdens that are, while not always light, at least more significant than those the world tries to lay upon our backs. It is a joy to be expended in some vocation that is greater than one’s self.

—William Willimon1

There are days, sometimes seasons, when pastoral ministry is a joy. That’s not to say that ministry is easy. Fallible pastors caring for the spiritual vitality of fallible people in a broken world, all groping together to follow Jesus and make a difference in the world—how could that be easy? Pastoral work is frequently messy, but there are moments when those of us who are in ministry are able to see beyond the burdens of the present. Sometimes, we are able to believe that what Jesus said really is true: there is more to reality than we often imagine, the kingdom of God bubbling up beneath the things that cause us to toss and turn in our beds. This is the wonderful, mysterious work of God in the midst of the mundane. That is where we find our joy, not in the surface of our circumstances. As Eugene Peterson has said:

I’ve loved being a pastor, almost every minute of it. It’s a difficult life because it’s a demanding life. But the rewards are enormous—the rewards of being on the front line of seeing the gospel worked out in people’s lives. I remain convinced that if you are called to it, being a pastor is the best life there is.2

The apostle Paul also knew such gospel-centered joy. Writing from prison, he smiled just thinking about his beloved brothers and sisters in Philippi. He counted them as his full partners in the cause of the gospel, gladly seeing this diverse community being formed in the ways of Jesus. He longed for them with deep affection.

A piece of disturbing news, however, had reached Paul. Some difficulty was threatening the unity of the church (Paul, unfortunately for us, does not say what it was). Concerned that they remain firm in the faith, he wrote them a friendly letter to strengthen them in their quest to live by the gospel:

Therefore if you have any encouragement from being united with Christ, if any comfort from his love, if any common sharing in the Spirit, if any tenderness and compassion, then make my joy complete by being like-minded, having the same love, being one in spirit and of one mind. (Phil 2:1–2)

“If,” Paul said, four times. But what he really meant was “since”: he knew their character and had confidence in them. He knew that all the things he said “if” about were already true of the Philippians, evident in the way they related to him, to each other, and to their world. What pastor wouldn’t be filled with joy to serve a congregation like that? One where people are like-minded, loving, and united in purpose, where everyone humbly cares as much for others as for themselves (Phil 2:3–4)?

The Philippian church was a good congregation, but certainly imperfect, as all congregations are. Paul was asking them to hang tough in the face of trouble, letting nothing impinge on their unity. That’s what would make the joy he already had in them full and secure.

Make my joy complete! There are two things to take hold of in that short request. On the one hand, Paul’s joy is from the Holy Spirit. As Willimon suggests in the quote that opens this chapter, a pastor’s joy is not merely situational. Rather, it is intrinsic to the Spirit-filled life (Gal 5:22). Whatever the burdens of ministry, the daily ups and downs, true joy comes from knowing and living into one’s calling—the adventure and privilege of participating in the grand work of redemption that God is already doing. This good work can happen in the midst of even the most ordinary and mundane activities.

On the other hand, a pastor’s joy is not independent of the spiritual state of the congregation. It matters what the members of the body do, how they live and treat each other. After all, what Paul wanted more than anything else was to see the gospel flourish. That’s why he took such joy in his Philippian friends. It’s not that their exemplary conduct made his life easier; rather, he rejoiced that the truth of the gospel was on display everywhere in their fellowship and beyond. And he wanted to do whatever he could, even from his remote location, to make sure they didn’t lose an ounce of that marvelous, Spirit-filled vitality.

Not all congregations, of course, are created equal! Paul could write glowingly of his deep affection for the community in Philippi, but there were other congregations that sorely tried his patience. Think, for example, about Paul’s letter to the Galatians. Classical artists often painted Paul as a man with little hair. If that’s how Paul actually looked, the churches in Galatia may well have been the reason.

That letter begins with his regular greeting of grace and peace. Then, abruptly, Paul blasts his hearers with both barrels: “I can’t believe your fickleness—how easily you have turned traitor to him who called you by the grace of Christ by embracing a variant message!” (Gal 1:6, The Message). Strong words. He is appalled that the Galatians have so easily given up and given in: given up their gospel freedom, and given in to false teaching about the need for circumcision. Indeed, he is so angry that he actually wishes that those preaching circumcision—to put it delicately—would have a disastrous little slip of the knife (5:12). Not surprisingly, Paul hardly mentions joy in the letter, except to wonder where it went (4:15)!

This is why it’s important to avoid the occasional temptation to romanticize the early church. We read about the depth of devotion, fellowship, and sharing among these new converts, how they “broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts, praising God and enjoying the favor of all the people” (Acts 2:42–47). Then we look at our own congregations and wonder wistfully when and how it all went wrong.

If we’re looking to rekindle joy in ministry, that kind of nostalgia won’t serve us well. Make no mistake: the early church was full of human beings who had not yet reached “the whole measure of the fullness of Christ” (Eph 4:13), and the same is true today. On balance, some early congregations seemed to have it mostly together, as in Philippi. But then there were the believers in Galatia, or Corinth, with their tangled relationships and skewed ways of hijacking the gospel. These are the congregations that try pastors’ souls.

Local congregations are always imperfect and broken. Whenever human beings get together, no matter how sincerely they wish to follow the Lord, there will be some messiness. But it is precisely in the midst of the ordinary and the routine that the Lord works, forming a congregation of people who are striving to follow Jesus and to do God’s work in the world. Pastors are an important part of this movement, helping to develop congregations, and are themselves shaped in the process as well.

Despite their imperfections, whichever congregation Paul wrote to, he loved them all. His letters could be gentle or harsh, encouraging or in-your-face confronting. But we may be confident that he loved all the people with the love of Christ, however much they exasperated him. He yearned to see Christ formed in them (Gal 4:19). To be sure, some days were better than others. The burdens could be so great that the joy would all but vanish.

But not completely.

John Sanford, writing about burned-out pastors, once said, “It is important to recognize this positive side of the ministering person’s life and work, but the happy things in life do not require books to be written about them, so in this book we must deal largely with the unhappy side.”3 Fair enough. Much of this book (especially chapter 2) will deal with the “unhappy side”—the things that make pastoral ministry challenging—with suggestions to pastors, congregations, and seminarians about ways to respond or cope.

But throughout the book, we will also emphasize the other side. We don’t just want pastors to survive; we want them to thrive and flourish. And that means more than just learning to cope with difficulty—it means rediscovering, in the midst of difficulty, the joy that drew them into the ministry in the first place. In the midst of the complexities and the humdrum ordinariness of day-in and day-out ministry, pastors sometimes lose a sense of that calling and its joy. It begins to feel like nothing more than a job, and not a very fun job at that! As Reggie McNeal notes, “it is tough enough to serve a church with a call. Without it, the choice constitutes cruel and unusual self-punishment.”4 But when one’s true gifts and calling merge in vocational ministry, then even when serving a church is hard, it will be where pastors find their greatest joy.

In chapter 2, we’ll deal concretely with the related matters of stress and burnout in the pastorate. These two themes dominate much of what has been written about ministry in recent decades. For now, we will simply set the stage by taking a quick look at the upside and the downside of this “odd and wondrous calling”5 that is pastoral ministry in its many forms.

Are Pastors Happy in Their Work?

Imagine you’re at a party, talking with someone you’ve just met. What questions do you ask to get the conversation going? Chances are, you’ll introduce yourself and ask the other person’s name. And most of the time, the next question will be some version of “What do you do for a living?” The answer to that question is central to our identity. And how we feel about our jobs is generally related to how happy we are overall.

In 20...

Table of contents

• Title Page
• Foreword
• Preface
• Part 1: The Context of Ministry
• Part 2: The Principles
• Response Letters
• Bibliography