Some years ago, I went through the most excruciating crisis of my life. A sudden, wrenching divorce, after twenty-three years of marriage and four children, left me angry, guilty, lonely, and confused.
In the midst of this, I found a new church in which to worship and asked the pastor for anonymity. I just wanted to sit and listen for a while. This caring pastor and his people honored my request, accepted me, ministered to me, and asked for nothing in return.
For years I had worked with media, marketing, and fund raising. From the church’s point of view, I was a prime candidate to become a committee workhorse. Instead, I became an object of the love and care of a group of God’s people.
Finally, as healing progressed I joined the church and gradually became more actively involved. Today, I have a part in the daily life of that church. But each Sunday as I enter that sanctuary, I realize my value to that group of people is based on who I am, not what I can do.
This experience confirmed a suspicion I’ve held for a long time: The best Christian service is a by-product of being loved, accepted, and cared for by a fellowship of believers. Church involvement that grows spontaneously from the balm of healing has a more durable foundation than any programmed activity.
Many churches, formally or informally, conduct a sort of “skills inventory” of each new member. When a carpenter joins the church, he is automatically slated for the building committee. An educator is asked to teach Sunday school. An accountant is invited to get involved in the financial planning.
Some churches even approach this systematically—with questionnaires, forms, and so forth. Now, with the microcomputer, any church can easily compile a talent data base and select the right person for the right job in seconds.
In today’s society, the worth of an individual is closely tied to his or her vocation. Ask anyone on the street, “What are you?” People aren’t likely to say “a mother,” “a husband,” “a Christian,” “a concerned citizen,” or “an American”; they will name their trade or profession. When we arbitrarily assign these people to similar responsibilities in the church, we imply—whether we mean to or not—that their value to the church lies in direct relationship to their talents.
The questions we need to ask are: What does the church member believe he or she is called to do? Does he want to teach because he has something to share? Will she head the hospitality committee because she wants to return the affirmation she receives from the church? Will he count it as genuine service to stand in the parking lot and point last-minute worshipers toward empty spaces? Will she enjoy doing the publicity as a fulfillment of her calling?
Admittedly, it’s difficult at times to determine who genuinely wants to do what. A “calling” is hard to build into the data base of a computer-matching program. But unless what we ask our lay people to do meets their needs as well as the church’s needs, their service will be short-lived—or done with less and less enthusiasm and integrity.
Almost every church has a few members who find their place of service in the community. They’ve been called to serve in local government, civic leadership, or a trade union. And while they often rub shoulders and trade ideas with the movers and shakers of society, this doesn’t raise them to a higher level in the sight of God. It simply means they’ve been assigned a place of service outside the walls of the sanctuary or the Christian education building.
These people pose a problem for many pastors, however, who, with a normal proprietary interest, would like to put them to work in the programs of the church. Frank Alton, minister of mission at Bel Air Presbyterian Church in Los Angeles, admits that “while we try to tell people they are doing God’s work through their work in the world, on occasion we find ourselves saying or thinking, I don’t know why that person isn’t giving more time to church work.”
Richard E. Halverson, chaplain of the U.S. Senate, tells about a very active church member, a dentist, he knew when associate pastor at First Presbyterian Church of Hollywood. On one visit, while Dick’s mouth was filled with dental paraphernalia, the dentist revealed that he had been asked to become president of the local school board, and what did the pastor think of that? Unable to blurt out his first negative response, Dick had time to think about his answer.
“The Lord began to deal with me,” he says. “This man was very active in the church, but I could quickly see that one less-active member out of a church of more than eight thousand people wouldn’t hurt. Then I thought. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if every school board in America had such a man as president? By the time I could talk again, I had a different answer.”
Dick Halverson adds that he learned a tremendous lesson from that. “The way I tended to think, we should pull all the godly people out of the world and put them to work in the church. Of course, if you did that, you’d have a godless culture. The job of the church is to equip people to be godly influences in every walk of life. That’s what Christ meant when he talked about salt and light and good seed.”
Some people have gifts suited to equipping other people to be godly influences in the world; others are more suited themselves for such involvement. Call them worldly Christians or whatever you choose, these people need the ministry of a pastor, the support of a congregation, and someone to encourage them to stay out there serving God in the community while others are active in the church committee meetings. I believe that, if this happens, you won’t be able to keep those people from giving some of their time and talents to the body of believers that nurtures them.
On the other side of the coin, many Christian workers need release on occasion—simply for a break. They need to back off before they burn out. In many areas of life we recognize the need for periodic rests—on Sundays, vacations, sabbaticals. So, in the work of the church, at times we need to stop and do nothing but worship and drink from the cool cup of fellowship.
When we try and sit out a season, however, we often have to endure the “slings and arrows” of the busy people. “Why aren’t you up in the choir? We need you.” “But who will lead the junior high youth group?” “How can we ever get anyone to take your place?”
This is where an understanding pastor can encourage a harried church member to rest, and help him or her—and the church—feel good about it. In due time, the Christian who is feeding on the Word and celebrating with the community of faith will return to a place of service better equipped to do the job.
I’m probably giving more of my time and resources to my church than I ever have. But the important thing is that it comes out of love, not because someone twisted my arm. The Lord gave me a community of faith when I. needed it most. Now, when the phone rings and the voice at the other end says, “Russ, we need some help,” I’m ready to respond.
Copyright © 1985 by the author or Christianity Today/Leadership Journal. Click here for reprint information on Leadership Journal.
