We usually view other people’s jobs in their glamour moments. We see a surgeon appreciated for a dramatic and successful operation. We see his Mercedes parked in front of his plush home and think, It would be great to be a doctor. We forget about the difficult years of education, the late-night phone calls, the patients who don’t survive, or the families that sue.
We see a basketball coach carried off the floor after winning a championship, and we sigh, “It must be rewarding to be a coach.” We don’t think about lengthy practices, tedious game films, agonizing defeats, or players angry about their lack of playing time.
We may see the minister of a rapidly growing church in much the same way. We see the increased attendance, the expanding influence, and requests for speaking engagements, and we think, How rewarding to minister to a growing church.
For twenty-four years I have been privileged to minister to a growing church. It has been wonderful to watch a church grow in two decades from 125 to more than 5,000. I wouldn’t want to change places with anyone. But there is a downside to ministry in a growing church that many don’t see.
I recently attended a gathering of a dozen pastors from large churches. A special guest was Gordon MacDonald, who pastored a growing church in New England for a number of years. He suggested that we don’t yet know the long-range effectiveness of megachurches; they only recently have appeared in church history.
“The first test,” MacDonald told us, “will be what the megachurch does to those of you who lead one. Business executives know that the average CEO lasts only six years. It will be interesting to see where you are six years from now.” Then MacDonald added, “The growing church can become a monster that devours the very person who helped create it.”
As he spoke, I thought of the many ministers of large churches who have fallen to immorality, greed, heresy, or egotism.
Along with the many positive aspects of ministering to a growing congregation, there are also some drawbacks. Whether a church grows from 100 to 200 or from 500 to 5,000, we are wise to consider the full picture.
The Positives
Before we look at the dangers, I want to mention at least two benefits I’ve enjoyed as a minister in a growing church.
 A sense of well-being. A growing ministry has boosted my self-esteem. Many preachers suffer discouragement. They see little fruit from their labor and often feel like failures. The ensuing battle with poor self-image can have a negative effect on several areas in the minister’s life. In marriage, for example, the minister may look to his mate for support the spouse cannot give.
One minister friend received a nasty anonymous note at home. He was so discouraged with the criticism that he did something he rarely did-he shared the letter with his wife, who was not exactly enamored with his ministry. She read the letter and said, “I agree with it!” That’s discouraging!
But when the church grows, the minister gets a lot of positive strokes-notes of appreciation, verbal praise, and public recognition. When the numbers go up there is a feeling of accomplishment, a sense that “God is really working through me.”
Such a boost to self-esteem can raise both the minister’s confidence and effectiveness as a leader.
 Additional resources. Another advantage of serving a growing church is-usually-a higher salary. Even though growing churches are almost always in debt and promising to do better by their pastors, I still make more than many in ministry. This leads to two tangible benefits
First, my family doesn’t have to live under the kind of constant financial stress that plagues so many preachers’ homes. My wife and I have had sufficient resources to get away occasionally and play golf or celebrate special occasions.
The best benefit has been that with the exception of my first year in ministry my wife has not had to work outside the home. My wife has shared in ministry, and she’s had the freedom to focus her energy and attention on the home. For that I’m grateful.
The Negatives
Ministers see church growth almost exclusively in a positive light. But other factors in an expanding ministry can blindside us if we’re not careful.
 Additional pressure. When we minister to hurting people, our energy is depleted. Ministering in a growing church, then, means growing tension and emotional stress.
With a growing ministry comes increased expectation. Almost every minister has had someone say: “Hey, preacher, I’ve got a good friend who has finally agreed to come to church with me this Sunday! You better be good!” That creates pressure.
For me, sermon preparation puts on more pressure than sermon delivery. The better my preaching, the higher the expectations become, both from the congregation and from myself. I may exaggerate my role and think, If I don’t do well this Sunday . . . Every message becomes critical as self-imposed pressure mounts.
Feeding this pressure is the increased criticism that comes with a growing ministry. Someone suggested the only difference between a big dog and a little dog is that the big dog has more fleas. I’ve noticed that as the church has grown, I frequently receive critical comments, derogatory phone calls, and anonymous letters.
Recently, for instance, I was upbraided for the way I tried to make a point in a sermon about Jesus’ choice of disciples. I stated that if I could choose twelve assistants to impact the world, I would choose people like Diane Sawyer, Donald Trump, Zig Ziglar, Michael J. Fox, and Billy Graham. A woman called to express her dismay that I would link Donald Trump to Billy Graham.
A friend of mine preaches in a church that has grown from 150 to 300 in one year. He regularly receives critical anonymous letters from someone who signs each note, “The Thorn.” Attached to the first note was an explanation: since the apostle Paul had a thorn in the flesh, this writer felt this preacher should have one too, and thus, these notes say things the minister doesn’t want to hear. (My friend wants to find out who “The Thorn” is and send an anonymous letter signed, “The Hedge Trimmer.”)
I have the utmost respect for Dr. Billy Graham and others who regularly face thousands of skeptics and critical media people. I know I feel much more pressure with thousands in our worship service than I did when 125 attended.
A growing ministry also provides more frequent interruption. When the phone rings just as our family is leaving for a special activity, it’s not unusual for someone to say, “Don’t answer it!”
After church on Sunday morning, often one of those “very draining persons” pounces on me en route to the car. They have “just one question” and need “just one minute” of my time. But the conversation lasts considerably longer, and leaves my family squirming in the car.
This happens in churches of all sizes, of course, but in a growing church, those who interrupt are more likely to be strangers and the unexpected encounters more frequent due to my and the church’s increased exposure. Once as I stood in line to buy tickets at a movie theater, a man approached me: “I’ve been attending your church for several months. Could you tell me exactly what your church teaches about ‘once saved always saved’?”
While playing miniature golf with my family, I was interrupted by a woman wanting financial assistance so her children could attend a Christian school.
A local radio station thinks it is doing us a favor by playing my sermon tapes for free at 4:30 A.M. At 5:00 A.M. one Saturday morning, my phone rang, and a man said, “I just heard your sermon on baptism, and I have a couple of questions.”
At 7:30 I woke up and asked my wife, “Did someone call me this morning at 5:00? What exactly did I tell him?”
The demands of growing ministry can quickly drain me of emotional and spiritual energy. Getting out of our area code even for a few days helps. I also get refreshment with a round of golf, a visit to the lake, or an evening out with my wife. But I also need prolonged periods of retreat, times of meditation with God that replenish my spiritual reserves.
In recent summers I have taken off four to five consecutive weeks from preaching. This time off has benefited both me and the congregation. The church is reminded that the attention should be on Christ, not the minister, and I am rejuvenated for ministry.
 Phoniness. As ministry expands, it becomes increasingly difficult for me to be authentic. When there were 1,000 in our church, I knew almost everyone by name. When the number increased to 2,000, I still recognized most faces. But now I can’t do even that.
Yet I still feel like I should try to know everyone. Recently I saw a man at a community gathering who looked at me as though he recognized me. I smiled and nodded. He nodded back. I went over and shook hands and said, “How have you been?”
“Fine, and you?”Â
“I’m fine, too.”
“How’s your family?”
“Everybody’s doing well, thanks.”
“Some interesting people here don’t you think?”
“Sure are.”
We made small talk for about five minutes, when finally I said: “I’ve got to be honest with you. I can’t remember your name.”
He said: “I don’t know you either. Who are you?” We’d both been bluffing it for the entire conversation!
As ministry grows there’s a temptation to fake not only relationships but also knowledge. I used to know who was in the hospital, who had a new baby, who was having marital difficulty. But with greater numbers of people, I’m not able to stay in touch with all those needs. Shepherding responsibilities have been delegated. I still think, however, I should be aware of everything, so I’m tempted to bluff it.
That creates an unhealthy pretense. I’ve found that in a growing church, the minister must relinquish control of many areas and consequently may wrestle with feelings of inadequacy.
A friend of mine who preaches in a large church introduced himself to a couple in the church vestibule and asked if they were visitors. “No,” they said, “we’re members here. In fact, we’ve been youth sponsors for two years.” You can imagine his embarrassment.
The preacher with a pastor’s heart can feel guilty about not fulfilling the role of knowing every member as a shepherd knows the sheep. So we may be tempted to pretend to know about everyone; we may try to meet everyone’s needs. We become like the gossip who said: “I’ve got to go now; I’ve already told you more than I know!”
That kind of phoniness can be devastating to the minister’s family. Nobody likes a hypocrite, and my family members are the first to see if I have any pretense.
One of my constant prayers is: “Lord, help me to be authentic. Help me not to fake it. Help me not to say, ‘I’ll be praying for you,’ if I won’t. Help me speak the truth in love. Help me be a person of integrity.”
 Busyness. As the schedule becomes more hectic it is easy for the minister to suffer from what one writer labeled “Marthaplexy”-a disease of misplaced priorities. Martha served busily (and somewhat resentfully), but Mary focused on matters of the Spirit. The increasing demands of the ministry heighten the risk of Marthaplexy.
People ask, “Would you come speak to my group?” or “Would you play golf with us?” or “Would you eat out with us?” or “I need counsel; could you find time to help?”
When I comply too often with such requests, it becomes harder for me to seek first the kingdom, to sit at Jesus’ feet. I rationalize, “God will understand; after all, I’m doing his work,” but my logic falls short.
Busyness also threatens the minister’s marriage. During such times I am seldom home alone with my wife. When we are together, we are exhausted and rushed.
The multitude of demands can effect other relationships too. When spread too thin, I tend to have too few deep friendships, too little accountability, and too little opportunity to get off stage to relax and be real.
To cope with so many demands, I’ve had to learn how to say no. Left to myself I’d soon be meeting people at 10:00 P.M. and again at 6:00 A.M. for breakfast. Since it’s hard for me to say no face to face (I do like to please people), I’ve asked my secretary to help me. Now when I’m asked, “Would you . . . ?” I say, “I’d love to, but my secretary handles my calendar. Would you call her?” She limits my schedule and can say no much more kindly than I. This way I’m able to focus my efforts, and usually those needing attention get better help from others in the church than I could offer when I’m hurried.
 Increased temptation. The preacher in a growing church may not be as vulnerable to the temptation of discouragement, but other temptations frequently surface.
In the midst of a large church, surrounded by success, it’s easy to get caught up in materialism. The cares, riches, and pleasures of this world can choke out the good seed of the gospel.
There is also the temptation to begin to believe the exaggerated praise thrown my way. As ego inflates, I can forget that God doesn’t use superstars-he uses servants.
Laziness lures the especially fruitful ministry. Everything can be delegated so efficiently that I could become slothful. I could coast and become careless while others do the work.
Temptations like these are a constant battle, and there are no easy solutions. Then again, I’m more likely to win these battles when I recognize the temptation for what it is.
With increased ministry, of course, comes increased sexual temptation. We are all too familiar with ministers of influence who have fallen in this area. Increased travel provides additional temptation. Increased influence creates greater appeal.
By God’s grace, I’ve not succumbed to this temptation, and one factor has been my wife. Among the many little things that help me in this area is the way she greets me at home.
When I came home at the end of the day, my wife used to announce, “Boys, your dad’s home!” She would act like it was a big deal for me to be home. One afternoon she didn’t hear me come in. After a long pause, one of my teenage boys called out, “Judy! Your husband’s home!”
Now that my sons are gone, she tells the dog when I arrive, “Bandit! It’s Bob!” We laugh about it, but I still like it.
The spirit may be willing to be unnoticed, but the ego is weak! When a minister feels like a hero at home, it’s a significant factor in overcoming the temptations of the flesh.
Someone has said, “I’ve been rich, and I’ve been poor. And believe me, rich is better.” I’ve ministered in a small church, and I’ve ministered in a large church. And, similarly, there’s a lot I like about the large church, despite the price to pay.
All in all, I’m thankful to God for the challenges as well as the rewards of a growing ministry.
Copyright © 1991 by the author or Christianity Today/Leadership Journal. Click here for reprint information on Leadership Journal.
