Leadership expert Peter Drucker once offered his opinion on the four toughest jobs in America, in no particular order. The first was not a surprise (president of the United States) and neither were the second or third (hospital administrator and university president). But number four was a surprise to many: pastor of a local church.

The plight of the local pastor has become almost unbearable. Most pastors work endless weeks without any time off. When they are able to get away, many are called back to their place of service because of a crisis. Stress is taking a toll on most pastors’ physical, emotional and spiritual health in unprecedented ways.

I believe being a pastor is the toughest job in America today. No other profession carries such dire consequences if derailment occurs. If a pastor experiences a moral failure, he not only loses his marriage and family, he will more than likely lose his profession and calling. That doesn’t necessarily happen in the other “toughest jobs” from Drucker’s list. If a pastor loses his health — be it mental, physical or emotional — he will more than likely suffer shame and possibly not be able to continue his ministry.

Pastors are on the front lines of the battlefield. They are in constant need of encouragement, because the demands on them are incredibly draining. Most of them are the unsung heroes of our culture. Like a soldier, they do their duty by serving our Lord and the people he has given them charge over. Heroes like these go unrecognized and unappreciated for many years.

Reid Pepper was also a hero. When I met him, I didn’t know what he had done for our country. He was a member of my church, recently widowed, and a very friendly guy. Every so often he would come by my office to visit. During one of our conversations, I asked him if he was in World War II. His reply was interesting: “Yes, I served with some great guys.”

He came by several times. We’d drink coffee, and he would reminisce about days gone by, and then he would be on his way. I really didn’t think much of the visits — just an old guy needing a friend, I thought. Then one night I watched “Saving Private Ryan,” the film about a group of soldiers in World War II on a mission to rescue the only surviving son of a family. I was struck by the horror of the war. The next Sunday, when I saw Reid, I thrust out my hand and said, “Sergeant Pepper, I just want to thank you for what you did for me in the war!” “What’s got into you Preacher?” he replied. “Well, I watched ‘Saving Private Ryan.’ Have you seen it?” I asked. “No, and I don’t plan to!” he snapped back. “I guess I don’t want to relive all that.”

The next week he came by the office. With his head down, he apologized for being gruff with me the Sunday before. “It’s still very raw, even after all these years,” he said, as tears welled up in his eyes. He began to tell me about how he and several of his buddies found themselves in Belgium and France during the winter of 1944-45 — the Battle of the Bulge. He shared details of how most of the men in his platoon were killed in horrific fashion. He was wounded, too. His stories moved me. We wept together as he told me of losing a close friend who had entered the war with him. I cried when he told me of the victory he experienced as his unit charged into machine-gun fire and broke through enemy lines.

As I sat there, I realized I was in the presence of a real hero. He wasn’t a movie star acting through a series of scenes, then retreating to the comfort of his mansion. He was the real deal. He received some medals and was welcomed home by a grateful nation, but now he was just an old guy sitting in a pastor’s office in a small town, sharing his stories.

Every week, I talk to pastors in my office, on the telephone and through email. Sometimes we cry together as they tell of the losses they have experienced in life. Other times we celebrate as they share victories. Through it all, I’ve come to realize that I get to sit and visit with heroes — not heroes of some foreign war, but heroes of the eternal kingdom of the Living God.

— Monty Hale is director of pastoral ministries for the South Carolina Baptist Convention.