I sometimes find it hard to be thankful. When I arrive with my best sermon of the year and discover half the congregation has gone skiing, or when a transient greets me on my doorstep when I arrive home late at night-these are times I think about the merits of selling insurance.
Yet how can I lead others into the essential Christian attitude of thankfulness toward God without cultivating a similar attitude within myself?
Thankfulness makes a big difference in ministry. I’m at my best and people are most responsive on the Sundays when I’m thankful for the people who have given me the opportunity to lead them in worship. But after a Saturday night of “woe is me” and a Sunday service of “give it to them,” my ministry lacks effect.
I’ve heard pastors complain about everything from the level of commitment to the level of compensation-and the concerns are probably legitimate. But I’ve also learned that neither commitment nor compensation is likely to take an upward turn unless I’m truly thankful for my congregation. The question is: How can I develop thankfulness?
Being thankful in unlikely places
About a year into our marriage and eighteen months into my pastorate, my wife and I took a two-week vacation. We returned on a Saturday night. The Sunday service went quite well, I thought. But at the door I was met by blank stares as people rushed past me.
“Something’s wrong,” I told my wife. Only the next day did we discover the problem: during our absence, one family had gone house to house among church members rallying opposition to one of my decisions.
Later that week, while I was preparing for a funeral, five men arrived at the parsonage with an ultimatum: either the church vote for what they wanted (with my support) or they and their families would leave the church-twenty-five of them in all. They gave me three days to decide.
That began the four hardest months of my life. I refused to support their ultimatum, and the families left the church. In a body averaging sixty on Sunday morning, their absence was noticeable.
No, I’ve not enjoyed “the ideal pastorate.” And honestly, I’ve not always felt thankful for my vocation, my church, or my circumstances. Here are some of the circumstances in which it’s difficult, but not impossible, to be thankful:
Church conflicts. Even amid conflicts, there are reasons to be thankful. In my case the exodus of a large bloc was painful, but I’m thankful I experienced the turmoil when I had the energy to endure and the stubbornness to stand for what I believed was right.
The loss of that bloc resulted in a tremendous change in the church. People who never had been active suddenly were attending teacher-training sessions and helping with the youth. New people began attending the church, and some became Christians.
Seven years after the group left the church, I can now see how God taught me to depend on him when the future seemed unsure. Now I can say I’m thankful for the experience, as difficult as it was, for God used it to shape me and to position the church for outreach.
Spiritual struggle. When I begin to be influenced by the world’s values, there are a hundred things I’d rather be than a pastor. I begin to criticize my church and my calling.
Rut then I consider the actions of Jesus at the Last Supper. He took bread, and broke it, and gave thanks! Somehow this has always impressed me as more than a ritual before the meal. That bread and cup symbolized his suffering and death-submission to the will of the Father for his life on earth. I’ve tried to remember that it’s precisely when I’m fed up with the pastorate that I must thank God for his calling, for he has called me to know his victory through these spiritual struggles.
Poor church attendance. Perhaps this sounds unspiritual, but I count heads on Sunday morning, and when I notice below-average attendance, it affects my attitude. In that situation, I need to remember:
First, if the congregation is small, those present no doubt are discouraged, too. They need, more than ever, worship that centers on God, not on the size of the congregation.
Second, I need to be thankful for those present. These people might have loved to take a Sunday off, too. But they chose to be in church instead.
Third, I can be thankful for the opportunities of those who are away. Perhaps they haven’t missed a Sunday in three months. It wasn’t their plan that everyone else be away the same Sunday. Many of the folks who are absent are as deserving of time away as I am when my vacation rolls around. Our church benefits, too, from fresh ideas these people find when they visit other churches.
Salary misunderstandings. Nothing can rob me of the joy of serving-if I let it-like hearing people complain about how low their salary is when it still tops mine. One church member told about the small raise his employer was offering and said, “No one with a family can live on what they want to pay me.” His salary surpassed mine by four thousand dollars.
I’ve learned I must turn around those feelings of greed and envy, or my ministry becomes empty. I choose to be thankful for God’s material blessing on people in my congregation, for the opportunity their wealth gives them to enjoy life and to support the Lord’s work.
I also recall the way the Lord has blessed me. I may not be rich, but who has experienced greater spiritual blessing? I can spend hours each week studying God’s Word and spiritually enriching books; I am able to see the effects of my ministry on the lonely, the diseased, the grieving, and the lost; and I can point to those who came to know the Lord through my ministry. These are riches I’ll never forfeit.
Is this mere mind over matter? I don’t think so. Thankfulness is part of the Christian life, part of conquering covetousness.
Perks of the pastorate
In times of discouragement, I regularly need to stop and consider the specific blessings of ministry:
God’s calling. Since I know God loves the people in our community, I consider it an honor that he would entrust them to my pastoral care. My church, certainly not trouble free or the world’s largest, is God’s church, and the people are God’s people. The calling to be their spiritual overseer is worthy of my thankfulness.
The people. When I was a student pastor, one man in the congregation, every week, would instruct me about ministry. It began to get on my nerves. I mentioned it to one of the deacons. “Why, he’s your greatest fan!” replied the deacon. “He’s telling you what to do because he wants you to do the things you’re the best at, and he’s telling you not to do some things because he thinks we’re working you too hard.”
My attitude changed entirely. From then on, I appreciated that man. Being thankful for people prevents misunderstandings and helps me enjoy fellowship with people different from me.
Spiritual gifts. I love to preach. What can compare to seeing someone commit his life to Jesus Christ after a sermon? What is better than sensing the presence of the Holy Spirit as I speak? I’m thankful for the opportunity to exercise my gifts.
Ministry results. Less than a year after I began my ministry, I stood in the baptistery with six new believers. Since then I’ve seen more than forty others make that same public commitment, and the thrill is undiminished. Each life demonstrates the grace of God.
The other day I was talking with an older woman who, only a few years ago, would hardly speak to me. Yet now she was telling me things I doubt she had shared with anyone before. Finally she said, “You know, I feel like I can tell you anything.”
Through our conversations had come spiritual growth-not only in her life, but in mine also.
The challenges of ministry. Even the difficulties have caused me to mature as a person and as a pastor. I’ve learned how to deal with stress. I’ve grown in my ability to analyze and respond to problems. I’ve learned to depend on God.
When I was a student pastor, for instance, I feared having to conduct a funeral service. I prayed for the sick with great inner conviction-partly because I didn’t know how to bury them! Yet when the inevitable first funeral came, I discovered the blessings of ministry to the bereaved. The same has been true in other areas: what once was a source of fear has become an opportunity for blessing and growth.
Neighboring churches and pastors. It’s easy to covet my neighboring pastors’ churches. It’s even easier to be critical of them. I’m glad I’ve realized how much my life is enriched by those congregations and pastors who influence our community for the good.
When I review these perks of the pastorate, it’s not hard to be thankful.
Thanks-living
It’s one thing to feel thankful, another altogether to make that attitude evident. So how can I express my thankfulness?
In prayer. I need first to express my thankfulness to God. He is also the one who can transform our attitudes, and learning to express my thankfulness to him for people and situations will help me better express my gratitude to others.
In the community. At times I’ve heard a departing pastor tell how terrible the people are, and the next pastor arrives, thrives, and lauds the same people. I wonder, in situations like that, if the first pastor was unthankful because of his lack of success, or unsuccessful because of his lack of thankfulness.
A community notices when the pastor is happy to be a part of the congregation. If I sing the praises of my congregation, non-Christians will take notice. And a funny thing happens: the beloved becomes more beautiful.
In the congregation. Marriage counselors urge husbands and wives to say “I love you” more often. Pastor and congregation can benefit from the same lesson. As pastors, we can say it publicly. We can thank people not just for the things they do, but also for the people they are.
I try to compliment our church from the pulpit, and I’ve discovered that the more thankful I am for the church, the more thankful the church is for me.
– Steven McMullin
Waterside United Baptist Church
Woodstock, New Brunswick
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