“THE TWO FOES OF HUMAN HAPPINESS,” says philosopher Arthur Schopenauer, “are pain and boredom.”
Boredom, stagnation, restlessness—these are less acute than pain, surely, but they do rob pastors of joy and fulfillment. Even something as stimulating as marital sex can become boring when it is routine, and something as demanding as preaching or as challenging as leadership can grow stale over time.
When this happens, we are in danger.
According to the Chicago Tribune, on Father’s Day 1997 Ricardo Enamorado set out on a jet ski from Chicago’s Wilson Avenue boat ramp and headed north along the shoreline of Lake Michigan. After traveling several miles, at about three in the afternoon he turned around to head back south when the engine on the jet ski suddenly quit. Unable to restart it, he floated along nonchalantly, expecting help to come quickly on the busy waters. Gradually, though, the wind and waves pushed Enamorado farther and farther from shore, and help did not come. By dusk he was frantic. Dressed only in cutoffs, tennis shoes, and a life vest, he spent the night on the chilly waters of the lake.
The next day Coast Guard helicopters and a Chicago fire department chopper equipped with special radar began searching for the lost man. By the end of the day they still had not found him, and Enamorado, hungry and sunburned, spent another night on the dark waters of Lake Michigan.
Finally the next morning one member of the search-and-rescue team spotted a flash of light. Enamorado was signaling in their direction with a mirror. The nearly two-day ordeal was over.
Pastors, too, can lose power and begin to drift. At first it may not seem like any big deal. Things will pick up; something will come along that will revive our work. We may busy ourselves with outside interests. We may even ponder resigning our church and finding another that will show greater appreciation. We may quit giving our best in sermon preparation. We may cut back on the work no one sees, such as extra reading and spiritual disciplines. We may stop believing that God will do something significant through us and our church.
Boredom truly is the subtle, sworn enemy of faithful perseverance. It can be deadly.
Sincere, but sincerely wrong
We have all heard the sincerely given advice proffered to those who are dead in the water and sensed perhaps that solutions like the following can come up short:
1. “Just be faithful.” Certainly I can always be motivated by my commitment to be faithful to God-given responsibilities, but what confuses me is when faithfulness leads to stagnation. Surely God does not want me or the church to be stagnant. Is long-term boredom, therefore, a sign that I need to initiate a change, that God is leading me elsewhere? How can I be both faithful and challenged?
Another issue brings the facile appeal to faithfulness into question. Boredom often strikes when little is happening in my ministry. When this is the case, I don’t want to make the mistake of lingering in ineffectiveness in the name of faithfulness. If I persist at a stalled ministry without a clear sense that God has a purpose for me there, I am doing no one—least of all the Lord—any favors. Perhaps languor signals that I am missing the will of God. “Faithfulness” can even be a way to rationalize complacency, laziness, or outright negligence.
2. “Keep growing.” Some would say that if I feel bored I need to stretch myself intellectually and sharpen my ministry skills. Pursue a graduate degree; develop hobbies and interests outside the church; cultivate more friendships.
The disquieting thing about this solution is that I could find it in Dear Abby. While stagnation likely has some natural as well as spiritual roots, I am not satisfied unless the primary answer is distinctively Christian. What is the spiritual core of boredom and stagnation? What would Jesus say about it?
And then, of course, there is the pragmatic question: What if you lack the motivation to even pursue the things that will renew your motivation? Catch-22! Or what do you do when you have tried the tried-and-true paths to lifetime growth but your head is still nodding from boredom?
3. “Pray and read your Bible more.” This is the pill I prescribe to others for almost every ill, and it usually does the trick. Still, as many lament, what do you do when the spiritual disciplines are the most stagnant part of your life?
4. “Persevere.” Just keep putting one foot in front of the other, no matter how you feel. Duty, will power, determination!
While the Bible does call for perseverance, it does not allow for hollow perseverance. One oft-quoted word on the subject says, “Let us not become weary in doing good” (Gal. 6:9). This suggests I should not keep plowing ahead regardless of how I feel, but that I must not even allow the feeling of weariness to linger! I must not continue indefinitely with an engineless perseverance; rather, my heart must be in this. As Romans 12:11 says, “Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord.”
The appeal of Galatians 6:9 to the will implies personal responsibility for weariness. What choices am I making that have brought me to this enervated place? What will enable me to power up again?
Energizing approaches
In my experience, five frames of mind have proven to keep me stretched and interested in ministry to the fullest.
1. Maintain internal faithfulness. Restlessness in ministry and in marriage look alike, and so does the answer to the problem. Malachi said, “Guard yourself in your spirit, and do not break faith with the wife of your youth” (2:15). The key to marital faithfulness is to guard the center of my being: my spirit. If I am faithful in spirit—choosing to delight in my wife in my thoughts—I will avoid the hollow core of boredom that causes me restlessly to turn my attention to other women.
Mere external faithfulness is an attempt to stay true in conduct even though I break faith in my heart, and it inevitably leads to restlessness, for the inner and outer persons conflict. By itself, a sense of duty can lead to such external faithfulness, but this is the sort of faithfulness that often fails to motivate us adequately.
If I am faithful to my church in spirit, I enjoy an ongoing romance with my church and each responsibility of the pastorate, driven both by a sense of duty and by passion. I need to keep dreaming about what my church can become, not envying someone else’s church. I need to stir up my love for my people and think about the good in each of them. I need to pray and believe for my congregation. Passion is nothing less than a painstaking discipline of the heart.
Inner faithfulness had to be what made John the Baptist who he was. Imagine how boring the desert could be before he broke onto the public scene! No people to converse with. Not much to read. No entertainment. No visual stimulation. If he had gone into the desert merely out of duty, he would have become a very troubled man. Instead, John was faithful in the center of his soul and thus empowered for every situation.
2. Work my field to the edges. I have noticed that farmers find ways to plant seed in every possible square yard of their land. Where there are rocks, they dig them up and haul them away. Where there are trees, they cut them down, pull up the roots, and burn them. Where the land is arid, they irrigate. I have seen farmers in Illinois use earth-moving equipment to improve the lay of the land.
In a similar way, I am trying to work the ministry field God has given me right to the fences, and even in my small church it is a challenging task. I have a list of people I am trying to lead into a committed relationship with Jesus Christ. I also have a list of unchurched people, nominally Christian, who have visited our church but not yet found a church home. I have still another list of people who call our church home—some who attend regularly, others sporadically. I regularly review these lists and attempt to follow the leading of the Holy Spirit about whom to contact through a phone call or letter and how to help them move more fully into the will of God.
I have found ministry becomes boring when I stray from such hands-on ministry with people, and often I have done that. In my previous churches, I emphasized preaching and the devotional life and only sporadically spent time in one-on-one discipleship or evangelism. As a result, I suffered bouts of restlessness regarding the church. When I remain tucked away in my office, simply writing sermons and shuffling papers, or if I solely challenge others from the pulpit, I can lose touch with the relevance of my ministry to my hearers. But if I stay in the trenches with people, get face-to-face with them and appeal to them to cross the next line of commitment, I am stretched to the limit. In fact, I often feel at a complete loss.
Two recent meetings with a student who is an existentialist have jazzed me. He wants to hear about the plausibility of the Christian faith, and each time we have talked cordially for some two hours. He is not yet convinced but he wants to meet again, and I can hardly wait.
Thirty-five people attend our church on a given Sunday, and with growth I know I will have to cut back somewhat on hands-on work with individuals, but I intend to always do some, for I regard it as essential to a proper frame of mind.
3. Wait actively. After years of frustration, I have concluded that much of spiritual life simply comes down to standing fast, hoping in God and his appointed time. “God … acts on behalf of those who wait for him” (Isa. 64:4). If I am going to see God’s fullest work in and through my life, I must master this patient art.
The waiting can be either endlessly dull or truly exciting.
Several years ago I took my family to a popular water park at the Wisconsin Dells. The lines at the more exciting sites were often long, but I noticed that, at least the first few times, my sons didn’t get bored waiting. They watched the other kids on the ride, assessing the challenge, seeing what fun the others were having, wondering if the ride was more than they could handle. As they neared the front of the line, the expectation had them nearly jumping up and down with excitement.
When I wait for God to act, with confident faith and strong hope, I bounce like a ten-year-old about to go down the big water slide. This is faith-waiting, and it has tremendous energy.
My boys have a much different experience when they sit around the house during summer vacation. When they have no idea what to do and nothing to look forward to, they are bored out of their minds. Likewise, when I lack vision and anticipation, I am listless and depressed.
4. Love the familiar. My idea of an ideal vacation is a leisurely mix of travel and hanging around Chicago. On the road I enjoy the stimulation of new sights, people, and activities, but travel from the beginning to the end of my vacation wears me out. By the time I have slept in strange beds and eaten in different restaurants for a few days, I have had enough of the new and long to return home and sleep in my own bed with its familiar depression on my side, listen to my stereo with my beloved Mozart piano concertos, and cook in my kitchen where I can make pasta just the way I like it with my favorite four-cheese sauce.
What I like in a vacation also holds true in life and in ministry. I am happiest when I know how to enjoy both the fresh and the familiar.
The ability to treasure the familiar is not simply a result of increasing age; it is an attitude. Primarily, it involves recognizing the special benefits of the familiar and consciously appreciating them. One reason I enjoy the familiar is that I know I can trust people and settings that have been proven over time. I value the familiar when my soul needs peace and comfort, stability and roots. Sometimes I simply need what is predictable.
Plenty of familiar things in my current ministry bring me great pleasure. When I sit down at my computer, I get a warm feeling; I have used my word processor for six years and it is second nature to me. I enjoy my train ride to the office, which passes the same gritty cityscape and gorgeous skyline every time. I am learning the unique strengths and idiosyncrasies of the people who have been in our church since I arrived, and they bring a smile to my face. These familiar things are part of the rhythms of my life, and even though I know them well, I regularly discover something new in each of them.
I enjoy the familiar most when it is in counterpoint with what is fresh, so I intentionally vary the mix. Sometimes I walk a different path between the train station and my office, always with an exploring and observant eye. Month to month I intentionally preach different styles of sermons—sometimes topical, sometimes an exposition of a scriptural passage; sometimes a long section, other times merely a verse. There is a way to find variety even in the most routine aspects of life.
5. Never stop asking why and how. Frankly, boredom has only occasionally been a problem for me in pastoral ministry, and one reason is that I have an insatiable curiosity about the Lord, the Bible, people, preaching, church life, leadership, organizational behavior, and prayer. In my several-decades pursuit to understand all of this, I seem never to have run out of questions. Why did this sermon work better than that one? What motivates people? How can we reach people who do not know Christ? How can I know God better? Why did Jesus tell the Gentile woman that it is not right to throw the children’s bread to the dogs? It seems the more questions I get answers for, the more that are raised.
Questions keep ministry fascinating for me. I write them in my journal and pray them to God. I pull out a legal pad to make notes as I analyze a subject or a Scripture. I read books for clues. I listen to audiotapes to try to learn from others. I think about what I can discover from my own experiences. I absolutely, positively love to learn.
For the last year or so my pursuit has been centered on the subject of recognizing God’s leading, or, as some call it, hearing God’s voice. I have several pages in my Day-Timer on which I record any Scriptures I come across in my devotional reading that shed light on the subject, any questions that puzzle me, or principles that come to mind. Gradually, I feel that I am gaining more understanding on the subject.
Being a lifetime learner does not necessarily mean getting formal graduate degrees. At a minimum, though, it means asking questions and seeking answers. Once we lose our curiosity and wonder, we start to stagnate.
When boredom continues
If despite the above approaches to ministry, I still find myself in a season of boredom and restlessness, 1 ask myself several questions:
1. Are my spiritual disciplines energized by the Holy Spirit? The diagnosis of any stagnation problem will usually include a recognition of my need for a fresh anointing of the Holy Spirit. Even before I came to Christ, I was a disciplined person—especially in training for sports—and I have found I can bring that natural discipline into my devotional life—usually to positive effect, but sometimes negative. It is possible to engage in “spiritual” disciplines in a way that could be better described as natural disciplines. That is, when I am not truly dependent on the Holy Spirit. I can read so many chapters daily in the Bible, for example, but in an exclusively rationalistic manner that is insensitive to the leading of the Spirit. Or I can pray systematically through a list, or memorize large portions of Scripture—all in my own power.
Discipline has its place but it is not enough. I need grace and a fresh touch from God. As Zechariah 4:6 says, ” ‘Not by might nor by power, but by my Spirit,’ says the Lord Almighty.” I have learned—and need to keep learning—to engage in spiritual disciplines with an intentional awareness of the Holy Spirit.
Like Abraham, I need to dig fresh wells in the Promised Land. When I am bored, I can keep planting seeds again and again in a dry field; or I can dig for water or build an irrigation system as I plant the seeds. On a regular basis, I desperately need a fresh anointing.
2. Have I asked the Lord about the source of my boredom? As much as I believe in the need to ask God for direction, especially when I am at a loss, my tendency is to avoid doing so. There are several reasons why. To center completely on the Scripture and the Holy Spirit and to wait for an impression from the Lord is time consuming, usually requiring three to six hours, for me. Often I come away from that time with a sense that God has given me his mind; but sometimes not. Even when I do feel that I have his mind, it is a subjective impression that may leave me feeling uncertain.
In any case, when I am at the end of my resources, unless I ask God why it is so, I linger in stagnation. Sooner or later, seeking God leads to a breakthrough.
The procedure that generally helps me is to begin by asking God to impress on my heart a particular place in Scripture to read. Then I wait until I sense some direction or interest. Finally, I read that portion of Scripture, and more often than not the words have life and relevance for me, bringing fresh promise or correction.
3. Have I slacked off from the hard things of ministry?
I can stagnate in ministry when I have been lazy as a thinker and fallen into a rut. On the other hand, I stay challenged beyond anything I can fully accomplish if I periodically do several things: (a) Evaluate the church and my effectiveness regularly, asking the hard questions about our overall effectiveness and spirituality. (b) Keep sharpening a strategy of ministry that bears fruit. (c) Set some goals (though I have mixed feelings about numerical goals). (d) Plan how to solve our problems, reach our goals, and fulfill our vision. (e) Fast and pray for God to inspire this entire process. Hard digging like this leaves me almost unbearably excited about ministry.
There are always a thousand more challenges and opportunities to grow where I am. Normally God wants to give me new vision, not a new address.
4. Am I neglecting the fundamentals? Has my love for God cooled? Have I lost my spiritual vitality? Has my love for the people of God waned? Does it matter to me that people without Christ will go to eternal judgment? Do I believe God will answer my prayers? Do I believe God’s promises, rightly understood, will be fulfilled in my life sooner or later? Have I lost hope? Am I ready for the return of Christ? Do I love the Gospel message and am I still devoted to sharing the Good News with every person I can in every daily situation possible? Am I living for what is most important in life?
5. Other assessment questions. Have I gotten too comfortable? Have I become passive instead of an initiator? Have I stopped attending to growth points in my character? Do I merely want to get out of a situation rather than grow through it? Have I arranged my life to be too safe, in effect clinging to the shallow end of the pool? Have I moved away from the motivations that originally compelled me into ministry and begun to work from ones that cannot rightly sustain me: careerism, professionalism, financial security? Have I neglected significant time spent in seeking the Lord in a variety of spiritual disciplines? Am I renewing my vision? Have I considered both the spiritual and natural causes of my stagnation? Am I getting enough input and stimulation?
Busting complacency
That the most challenging and important work imaginable can become boring should tell me something about its cure. Novelist Samuel Butler said, “The man who lets himself be bored is even more contemptible than the bore.”
Ouch! As much as I hate to admit it, when boredom strikes, the responsibility is mine. It is not my setting that has become stagnant, I have. Through God’s grace, I, too, am fully capable of restoring the passion.
The cycle of growth and stagnation is predictable. The Lord places me in a situation that stretches me. Gradually I grow in dependence upon God, upon knowledge, upon experience—to where I feel comfortable with what I am doing. Then I begin to plateau and stagnate.
At this point I have some options. I can become complacent; I can pursue other interests and be diverted from what God has called me to do; or I can press hard into a new cycle of growth in which I dig deeper and draw closer to the Lord.
On second thought, there is no choice.
Copyright © 1998 Craig Brian Larson
