Hard-Found Humility

Pastoring a church can sometimes be a brutal business. Congregational ministry is richly satisfying for me, but it’s also by far the hardest work I’ve ever done and sometimes kicks the stuffing completely out of me. Being the preacher means getting cut. Deeply. By people you love very much. Such sharp and painful cuts. Friends who leave. People who are lost. Unfounded accusations. Jumped conclusions. Confusing complaints. A million different betrayals. When I encountered one of my first set backs in my first year of preaching, a long time ago, someone told me that the church never loves the preacher as much as the preacher loves the church. I didn’t know what he meant back then. Stan Reid, the president of my seminary, wrote on my graduation card in 2007, God will use the good times to encourage you and the bad times to keep you humble; both are needed. Indeed.

But it’s not just what others do to us, it’s our own mistakes and mess-ups that keep us humble. Eugene Peterson wrote this in a letter to his son about being a pastor:

“We make far more mistakes in our line of work than other so-called professionals. If physicians and engineers and lawyers and military officers made as many mistakes as we do in our line of work, they would be out on the street in no time. It amazes me still how much of the time I simply don’t know what I’m doing, don’t know what to say, don’t know what the next move is… But I had a sense much of the time (but not by any means continuously) that ‘not knowing what I am doing’ is more or less what it feels like when I am ‘trusting in God’ and ‘following Jesus.’ 

I’ve never been so dependent on my time alone with our Lord in Word and Prayer every single day than since he’s called me to be a preacher. I find that more and more of what God is asking me to do and what the church expects me to do is completely impossible for me to do. I cannot do it. I have already messed it up. I am listening to you, Lord. I am following you. And we both know only you can do this.

Lastly, we preachers are humbled by trying to shepherd our churches in the name and manner of Jesus. He teaches us how to stoop, how to give, how to work with a bowl and a towel. He teaches us to lean in to the interruptions, to make the hospital visits, to listen for a really long time, to write the card or the letter, to ask for forgiveness, to show mercy, to exercise patience–the whole time looking for that little opening into someone’s soul.

I was invited to speak at First Baptist’s annual minister appreciation lunch here in Midland on Monday. Those pastors I already knew and some of the ones I met on Monday all concur that right now today may be the most difficult time to be a pastor in our lifetimes. It kills some guys. It makes them hard. They wear masks and lose their authenticity. They get guarded and stiff. Others graciously embrace the hard-found humility. They become more patient, more kind, more full of grace for others and for themselves.

I thank my God for the tremendous honor and for the lessons in humility. May my gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near.

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Our most wonderful grandsons are three-months old today and they are even more incredibly awesome than you can begin to imagine. Look at these guys!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Those two pictures were taken yesterday. The official  month-day pictures are always on the giraffe. Those came today.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They’re gonna need a bigger giraffe.

Peace,
Allan

1 Comment

  1. Rob's Dad

    Leonard,
    Keep matriculating the ball down the field.

    #48

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