Many pastors identify with the old story about the minister who daily went down to the tracks at the center of town and cheered uproariously as the train steamed past, because it was "the one thing I don't have to push." Wearied from pushing and prodding and imparting commitment to ho-hum programs and parishioners, pastors relish the idea of something that makes progress by itself.
Lloyd John Ogilvie has led several churches, small and large, easy and difficult, appreciative and demanding. For the last seventeen years, he has been pastor of First Presbyterian Church of Hollywood (California).
Yet after many seasons of ministry, his commitment to his Savior and the church have remained at full throttle-or even accelerated. Today he writes books, edits the Communicator's Commentary series, appears weekly in the "Let God Love You" television program, speaks at evangelistic events, and manages to pastor an active church as concerned with the runaway teen as with the up-and-outer.
LEADERSHIP editors Marshall Shelley and Jim Berkley recently visited him to discuss how he keeps such a holy head of steam.
As we listen to pastors, we hear over and over how congregational apathy irks them. What is it about spiritual listlessness that so bothers pastors?
Many pastors are Type-A personalities; they're racehorses. They've found a great deal of their identity in activity, advancement, production. Therefore, it's abhorrent for them to be a part of a plateaued institution or one holding back.
Also, for pastors to be effective, they must have a burning conviction about what God wants to happen in their churches and in people's lives, a clear vision as to what the church ought to be. But it's never there. So learning to live with what is, and continually moving forward to the vision, is a challenge.
You preach to nearly three thousand a Sunday, but realistically only a percentage could be labeled truly committed Christians. What percentage would that be?
It would be difficult to estimate, but that's the edge we're working on all the time. One of our major emphases is to call all our people into ministry. We believe that to be in Christ is to be in ministry, to be actively involved in sharing one's faith and alleviating the needs and suffering of society. Every member of the congregation should evaluate personal commitment by saying, If the congregation were a multiplication of my commitment, what kind of a church would it be?
At one time, church attendance was practically mandatory in many communities, but now it's not exactly "the thing to do." Given the prevailing culture, is this more "voluntary" attendance a good thing for the church?
I think so. As a downtown, cathedral-type church, we have many visitors, people who are searching for God, hungry for fellowship. There's a whole new breed out there. Many who come want to hear the Scriptures preached and to respond by applying their faith. They want to work to solve the needs of their families and communities. Yes, America is a largely unchurched culture, but the opportunities have never been greater.
How about the uncommitted Christians within the church?
They're a wonderful challenge. I preach to a procession: church members who need a fresh touch of the power of God, people who don't know God and aren't part of any church, Christians who've just come to visit, and others who are facing perplexing problems.
At the end of our Sunday morning services, an invitation is given for people to come forward to the chancel to pray with the elders and pastors. Each week, many respond-some to receive Christ as Savior and Lord, others to experience his healing and hope for physical, emotional, and interpersonal needs.
My big challenge is to present the gospel in a way that will be an initial invitation to those who don't know Christ and an encouragement to those who do and who need to get on with the responsibilities of discipleship.
One of the great challenges of our time is to communicate new life to religious people who don't know God. The institutional church in America is filled with religious people who desperately need an experience of the living, holy, gracious God. And that's what keeps me excited about the ministry, because I see God raiding the ranks of religious people, as well as those of secular people.
Probably the greatest areas of challenge for my people would be in their marriages and families, their work, their self-image, their future, and their failures and frustrations.
So I take those five areas and help people see some specific illustrations of what it's like to be faithful and obedient to the Lord in those areas.
I know a judge, for example, who gets down beside his chair in his private chambers to pray before he has to make a decision. Once when I was in his chambers, I saw beside his desk the beveled-out places where his knees have been over the years. There's a man who is committed.
There's nothing more exciting than helping another person become a Christian-except helping that person into an exhilarating experience of discipleship.
It's good to focus on the positive side, but isn't this "procession" you preach to ever discouraging? What does it do to you to stand up, do the best job you can of communicating God's truth, and yet recognize that lack of commitment still infects a good number of people?
It's helpful to keep in touch with my own humanity and to recognize that I too talk a lot more than I do. I preach beyond what I am able to live. That gives me a sense of empathy and understanding with people who hear a lot more than they are able to perform, or are admonished to do more than they actually enact.
Starting from the level ground beneath the Cross-acknowledging that we all are human and hold the treasure of the gospel in earthen vessels-I can be a much more creative motivator and actually talk about the distance between what we are and what we do.
My identification with people frees them to take the first step. When I see them not as recalcitrant children but as needy people who long to grow, I then have the ability to begin to touch their lives with Christ and help them bring themselves out of apathy.
You're still talking about the positive aspects. What about the stragglers in the procession, people who come for the show, expecting a spiritual pep pill, but who give very little of themselves. How do you handle the reality of that crowd?
Every pastor has a number of people who cause frustrations and difficulties. It would be dishonest to suggest that this is not true of any church. However, if you concentrate on those people and build your life around them, you lose the great number of people who are ready to move ahead. So I focus on the people who are ready to respond, who obviously are on the edge of committing their lives to Christ or getting into active ministry.
How do you understand the needs of those ready to respond?
Each summer on my month of study leave, I take a trunkload of cards, letters, and survey-response data. I spend the first week listening to what God is saying to me through those deepest needs and urgent questions. I take them one at a time, read them, pray over them, and ask God how to respond to them. Then I search for the Scripture passages that speak directly to those needs and use those texts as part of my preaching guide for the year ahead.
What effect does this have on you personally?
It gives me a deep sense of awe and wonder that God would give me the privilege of listening to people. But I also hurt with them. I ache over their suffering and empathize with them in their quest for God.
Christians are burning out in great numbers because they've not discovered the way to stay alive in the resources of the Spirit of Christ rather than through their own energy.
Some people feel a lack of enough strength and energy to do all they are called to do. Usually that means they're attempting to do some things God hasn't called them to do.
As I understand it, our will, done on our own strength, is humanism. Christ's will, done on our own strength, is religion. And his will, done by his power, is the abundant life. And there's a great difference. That's the pastor's challenge.
Do people discover the abundant life by sitting in church? Even listening to great sermons?
When people hear the gospel week after week without implementing it in their lives, that eventually causes a spiritual putrefaction in the soul. Often people come to church, hear the good news, pray courageous prayers (or hear them prayed by their pastor), are stirred by great music, and then aren't given the tools and the directions to implement their beliefs in their ministry in the world.
I want to give my people ways to be committed.
Such as?
We call people to four basic commitments:
First, an unreserved commitment to Christ.
Second, a commitment to seek an unlimited infilling of his Spirit of power.
Third, a commitment to personal ministry of evangelism.
Fourth, a commitment to be involved in at least one of the major crises in our community. That may be anything from runaway children, to the homeless, to those facing poverty and hunger.
How do you begin to call a church to commitment?
Commitment has to begin with the church officers. They can lead the church no further nor any deeper than they have gone themselves. A church of committed people must begin in the fellowship of the church officers. If you call all your people into ministry, you need officers who are ministering and who out of the joy of their own experience want every member of the congregation to get moving.
We changed the title of our missions department, for example, to "mission and deployment" because missions had the connotation of sending other people to do the work, whereas deployment means we're to be involved. One Sunday we gave a call for missions involvement, and over three hundred people made a commitment to their ministry. It's that deployment we're looking for . . . from every member.
How do you fan the flames of this kind of ministry?
We try to provide a lay witness opportunity in every worship service. Someone living out his or her faith in a particular area talks about what Christ is doing in his or her life. This reflects the pattern of the early church when the elder would ask the gathered Christians, "What evidence do you have that Christ is alive?" and the people would tell how Christ worked in their lives the previous week. We've included people making a difference in the movie industry, people from education and medicine, people who have become involved in caring for people in need. This helps call people to personal ministry.
We've talked so far about the institutional Lloyd Ogilvie. Let's turn more towards the personal side. Where does spiritual tedium show up in your walk?
In the heavy schedule I carry-keeping it all together and not overscheduling so that I lose time for prayer and study and rest. My biggest challenge is maintaining a balanced life.
Every single week certain tasks have to be done. I need at least two days for study. I need a full day to do administration. I need to spend time planning.
When I agree to do too many things and begin to feel I just can't make it, I finally have to exercise the freedom to step back and cancel some things in order to do with some measure of excellence what is absolutely necessary.
Do you distinguish between physical and emotional fatigue?
I try not to confuse them, because they are different. Basically, I know what's required for me to stay physically resilient. I have to get adequate rest and exercise every day. I have to eat right. Neglect in any of these areas makes me feel physically exhausted.
Emotional exhaustion, however, affects the physical profoundly. Unresolved tensions, unfinished tasks, things that I'm feeling inside that I haven't been able to express outside, cause emotional exhaustion. I take an inventory every day and usually a longer one each week to be sure I'm not burying feelings or entering into what I call "the dishonesty of duality"-being one thing inside and another thing outside.
Anytime I begin to pretend I'm something on the outside that's lacking on the inside there's turmoil, which takes so much energy-emotional and physical-that it's very draining.
What's an emotional inventory?
I keep a little tartan-covered book. It's a bound book, but the sheets are plain. When I start the day, I list the things I need to commit to the Lord. That means I keep a record of how I'm doing in response to the Lord and what he's telling me about those specific needs.
The next day when I open the book, I look back and see how I've done. After a week, I have a longer viewpoint. It's interesting to look back over a month and realize what the Lord has done with certain problems and what still is unresolved and needs to be done.
Do any of the entries remain the same week after week?
Of course. I'm called to live with patience as well as with results.
The book also helps me outline the things I need to do to be faithful and obedient to Christ. I keep short accounts in my relationships so that nothing is carried over on the ledger of resentment or hurt for any period of time.
I need a daily commitment to the Lord. The only way I can endure the immense pressure of unresolved tensions and problems that resist solution is to commit it to him on a daily basis. Then I see him begin to work in wonderful ways, sometimes radical, shocking, disturbing ways.
How do you keep discouragement at bay?
I first try to identify the discouragement. If I can't do that alone, I get with a friend, one of my covenant brothers and sisters with whom I meet consistently, and talk until I can get to the cause. So often we deal with generalized frustration and exhaustion rather than getting to the core of it.
Once the cause is identified, I can commit it to God and trust him to give the discernment necessary to solve the problem. Then I can take the steps that need to be taken. For me, to identify some creative remedy and then try it often breaks the bind.
Some problems resist solution, and we have to face that. It's then that we're to wait for the Lord's timing. So I'm not suggesting that if I wake up with a problem on my heart, it's always gone by the end of that day if I surrender it to God. I've carried some problems for weeks and months, but every day I've had to come back to the place of letting go and telling our Lord that I trust him.
In every church I've served, there have been points at which I had to surrender the future of that ministry to the Lord. God used the tensions and frustrations of ministry to help me commit my ministry to him. That's happened over and over again.
Those are internal strategies. Do you have any external resources to keep you going?
I couldn't make it if I didn't have sources of encouragement to help me deal with frustrations.
I'm part of a covenant group of local pastors. We meet regularly, and each of us is given time to discuss current needs, fears, and hopes. We usually conclude with the question, "If you knew you couldn't fail, what would you do next to glorify the Lord?" And then we pray for each other.
In one of the first churches I served, one Sunday morning I was out of power. I really needed strength and felt discouraged. I got up early and took a walk. In the village park, I saw another pastor, and I said, "What are you doing here?"
He said, "I'm out of power. And I can't preach."
I told him I was feeling the same thing, and so we talked about what might have caused it: busyness, need for more time in the Word, perhaps some unresolved tensions in our personal lives, challenges in our church that were beyond us.
Finally we said, "Why don't we pray for each other right now?" I got down on my knees, and he put his hands on me and prayed for me. Then I prayed for him. I skipped off and led two services, and so did he.
He called me later and asked, "Lloyd, how did it go?"
I said, "I had the best morning since I began the ministry."
"So did I," he said. So we began meeting together, and then we called in others. Eventually we met every Tuesday morning.
Later a woman came out of my church one Sunday and said, "I'm leaving this church. It's too personal. You have no right to apply the gospel to my personal needs. I'm going to another church."
I told her, "Well, I'm very sorry that you're upset, but God bless you; I pray that you'll find a church you both need and want."
Six weeks later she came back and said, "I've been to every church in this community and they're all saying the same thing!"
The reason was that the pastors were all meeting together to pray and strategize for revival in that city. No wonder she heard the same thing, because we were on our knees together every week.
How much do you lean on others at your church?
I really depend on the leadership team at our church. An important part of our meetings is the sharing of our needs. I feel I must lead the way, since my vulnerability will give permission to others to be honest. Often, I'll open our sharing with a confession of need or a problem I'm facing. After someone has shared, we pray for him or her.
We maximize the joys together, too, and that's important to keep one's enthusiasm alive. The test of friendship is that you can share the great things that have happened as well as the frustrating ones. Lots of people are happy to share your failures with you, but it takes a great friend to listen to victories and say, "Isn't that wonderful? Let's rejoice together." I have a team that shares the ups and downs.
Prayer and discussion groups have always been a great source of help for me. As a freshman at Lake Forest College in Illinois, I was born into Christ in fellowship. The two people who introduced me to Christ were Bruce Larson and Ralph Osborne-two great leaders of our time. They took time with me, helped me to know Christ, and launched me in the first steps of the Christian life in a small group with them.
I couldn't handle the demands I have on me if it weren't for a healing center of fellowship in which I can be absolutely open and honest, be loved and challenged, and then be prayed for as a brother. If I ever get impatient or negative, it's probably because I haven't been in consistent fellowship with others. And I'm not talking about sloppy camaraderie where everybody agrees and pats each other on the back, but a fellowship where a stiff wind of challenge blows, a bracing accountability.
One summer in Scotland you were tried sorely by an accident. Tell us what happened and how that experience has affected your ministry.
While hiking alone, I crushed my left leg in a bad fall. I had to drag myself nearly three hours to get to a road, where miraculously I was found and taken to a hospital. Eventually I was flown back to the United States for surgery.
The most profound result was that I discovered God in pain. Throughout my ministry, I've prayed for people's healing and have worked to create opportunities for people to be healed by the Spirit of God. Miraculous things have happened.
But there I was, stretched out in bed in excruciating pain, and praying didn't make the pain go away. So I began to ask God how to find him in the midst of the pain and not only as the alleviator of pain. He answered that prayer. Some of the times of deepest pain and anguish were periods of closest fellowship with him. That put me in deeper touch with people who suffer.
In addition, probably the most creative part of the accident was that for the first time in my life, I was taken off the fast track for a brief time. I discovered most of my security and identity was in what I accomplished for God-preaching sermons, writing books, leading a church, being part of a media ministry. All of this identified my worth.
Well, what can you do when there's nothing to do but wait for healing? For three months I could put no weight on my leg, and even when I could get out of bed, I had to use crutches. When I took my first steps, I had to depend on a cane.
During that difficult convalescence, I discovered in a new way that God loves me not for what I do but simply because I belong to him. That liberating conclusion has transformed my attitude toward life's pressures and difficulties. I don't have to write books, do television, and lead a church to be loved by God.
Doesn't that seem simple? Why didn't I learn that twenty-five years ago? Well, that's one of the hard things for a Type-A achiever to experience.
During my recuperation, I read a speech given by Henri Nouwen. He'd left his career at Harvard to work in Canada at Day Spring, a care center for the critically ill. He, along with several others, was assigned to care for a little boy named Adam who had epilepsy. One day while calming Adam after an epileptic seizure, Henri looked at him and thought, God loves Adam as much as he loves Henri Nouwen, and there's nothing Adam can do to be loved by God. God loves Adam just as he is. That was a liberating experience of peace for Nouwen.
So my experience has changed me. I feel much more sensitive to people-more in touch with their feelings, more patient-because I've had to be patient with myself. Previously I thought of myself as a big giver and a stingy receiver, but I learned through this experience to admit how much I need the Lord and other people. I'm learning how to share my needs and be ministered to as well as to minister.
That's why I say everything that happens to us furthers what God wants to happen through us!
Copyright © 1989 by the author or Christianity Today/Leadership Journal.Click here for reprint information on Leadership Journal.
