I spoke to a group of pastors in Phoenix. Ministry in Phoenix can be difficult. It’s so beautiful in the winter, heaven doesn’t motivate — and it is so hot in the summer, hell won’t scare them.
Church work is hard everywhere. For many pastors, their prayer at banquets should be, “Lord, thank You for preparing a table for me in the presence of my enemies.” One pastor’s church was so small that when he said “Dearly beloved,” his wife was embarrassed. One pastor was so discouraged that he said he felt like his church was the Titanic and the deacons were the iceberg, so he was thinking his latest vision statement should be “Misery loves company.”
I admit it can be difficult when Leader Grump-a-lot is voted chairman and his wife believes her spiritual gift is suffering. Speaking of suffering, it hurts when leaders say they never understood suffering until they heard you speak. And worse than that, the chairman of the over-budgeted and under-financed committee had been there so long, it was rumored he was the one who ratted on Ananias and Sapphira. Do you identify with the pastor of a rural town who each morning sits by the train track? A member asked what he was doing. He said that he wanted to see something move that he does not have to push.
Maybe you can identify with the leader of a small country who was enraged that the people were not using the newly issued postage stamp with his picture on it. He licked the stamp and placed it on an envelope. “Look!” he shouted. “It works perfectly.” The postmaster faltered for a moment and explained that the people had been spitting on the wrong side. The best advice for leaders may come from Yankees manager Casey Stengel, who said that the key to managing a team was to keep the five people that hate you away from the four that were undecided.
Why is working with people so difficult? It IS the people. They are everywhere. If you don’t like the people at your job, you will find them at other jobs. People are all defective, just like you and me. Our Maker has recalled each of us. Mark Twain said we should not expect too much of people. He said that they were created at the end of the week when God was very tired and looking forward to a day off.
I admit that I am nervous when people hand me things at church. You have to be careful even around children. If they ask you to smell their hands, they never smell like cinnamon. Large donations can be a problem. A saying in Texas is that whoever buys the fiddle gets to pick the tune. Many churches only sing the songs of yesteryear because the yesteryear people give the money. Unfortunately, many of our churches are comprised of yesteryear people who only want to go on cruises with a buffet view.
Church members do call when they are in trouble. There is the time that Bessie was stuck in the blood pressure machine at Walmart. Then we have staff members. With staff, it’s like your mother said: “It’s always something.”
An associate pastor walked along a road in the middle of nowhere with his dog. There was a logical explanation. His dog swallowed the car keys and they were hitchhiking to the vet. Student pastors are in a class by themselves. It is expected, since they have spent many hours in a locked room with mid-school teens. One student pastor, after having participated in one lock-in too many, didn’t show up for work. His excuse was that he mistakenly took an ex-lax with his Prozac. He said he couldn’t get off the commode, but he felt good about it. No wonder Oliver Wendell Holmes said he would have entered the ministry except so many pastors acted like undertakers. Of course they do! They feel as if people are plotting against them.
It has always been that way. That is why Jesus had more religious people plotting against Him than praying for Him. Why do they pastor? You know why. It is for the money. That is why I tell pastors to go where the money is. God is everywhere. It is not normal, everyday, buy-you-a-Mercedes money. It is chicken money.
Bill Hinson tells of his second sermon in an old country church. A barefoot boy was on the front row, swinging his feet throughout the sermon. As he preached, all he could think of were those feet. He was amazed at the constant movement and preached an awful five-minute sermon. The boy invited him to lunch with his family. He figured since the boy had destroyed his sermon they owed him a meal. That night he drove back to his south Georgia college and a few days later he received a letter from that boy. Included were nickels and pennies—fifty-seven cents, with a note saying that the money was for his schooling to be a better preacher. He had quite a hoot out of it and called the boy’s dad, told him that he probably didn’t know that his son had sent the money, and that he was returning it.
The dad said that his son saved his profits each week from taking care of the chickens and that he could not return the money. The dad told him that his son had never done a better job and was sending his profits. Each week for months and then for years he found the envelope in his mailbox. He wasn’t laughing anymore. He dropped to his knees and asked God to make him worthy of that boy’s sacrifice.
My advice to pastors is to think of your next paycheck as chicken money. It will encourage you a lot more than just bringing home the bacon. And, if you have to smell a child’s hand, let the chicken money remind you of the fragrance of his heart.