The Ministry-Driven Life

When I was fourteen years old, my father attempted to kill my mother, was locked up, released, then committed suicide.

It is probably not hard for you to imagine the pain and turmoil that my family endured,

Probably not hard for you to imagine how this might destroy any security that a teenager would have or long for.

The light that shines on all this for me is the ministry that was done to me, for me, around me while all this family disintegration was going on.

There was first of all my capital M minister, the Reverend Dr. W. Jackson Wilson. Jack-- young, dynamic, with three girls and Bettie his wife, a fine painter and fine partner in ministry.

Jack, my minister, took me in—invited me to live with him and be part of his family. That made all the difference.

But I remember also the ministry of the members of the church. There was Virginia Veech who gave me rides to church and counseled me as we drove. Listened mostly, and affirmed.

And there were the men of the church, the youth advisors. Physicians, lawyers, businessmen with busy lives and growing families. But they acted as if they would rather do nothing else in the world so much as they would like to spend an evening playing chess with lost boys—teenage misfits and strays. Playing chess and listening, acting like we were important. That made all the difference.

So, what does a minister do?

Takes in strays, the way jack Wilson took me in. That’s what a minister does. He opens his home. She gives you a lift. He listens.

Given the outstanding ministry of Jack Wilson and the people of Holmeswood Church, it is no wonder that I grew up and longed to become a minister myself.

But somewhere along the line, I got confused. I came to think that ministry was a role, a status in life conferred by long years of seminary training and the act of ordination.

So there have been nearly twenty years since that role was conferred on me…years of slow learning that the role and the title are not the important things. That ministry is not a title, but a way of moving.
Years of attempting to learn what ministry really is about. Of taking up a specialized kind of ministry that is like trying to solve a massive new jigsaw puzzle every year. About getting people to see things they don’t always want to see, and do things they don’t always want to do.

And toward what end?

Freedom and purpose, which perhaps are the same thing. The end of ministry, I have come to believe, is ministry itself. And the rewards are freedom and purpose, and that is my doctrine of the church and my vision for the church.

This week I interviewed a lay leader in one of our larger congregations, back in the Midwest. She is on the executive committee of her church, and for a dozen years of so has coordinated volunteers in that church, equipping them for ministry. I wanted to know what she had experienced, what she had learned in all those years with all those people, all those volunteers.

Louise told me that one of her greatest joys is setting people free for service. She described the drudgery of committee work when newcomers are forced into slots because a certain job needs to be done. And dutiful people go forth to do their duty.

But Louise asks people to back up. Wait a minute. Think about this: Why did you start coming to a church? Why did you come in the first place?

For a sense of BELONGING.

And what did that grow into? A sense of GRATITUDE, and a desire to SERVE, to GIVE BACK.

And then Louise asks: What is your passion? What is your PASSION in service? That’s the job you get to do in the church.

That is radical freedom.

“We really need someone to fill a gap on the Nominating Committee."

Yes, I could do that, and if you really need me, I’ll do it. But my PASSION would be to tell newcomers on Sunday morning about this church. That’s what I really want to do!

A state supreme court judge joined the church. Louise said: you must know a lot about making policy; would you like to serve on the church Board?”

“Yes, I’m good at policy. Enjoy it, do it all day long for the court system. But what I would really like to do at church…I’d like to go with the team that visits inmates in prison.

More policy work would be slavery. Going to prison would be FREEDOM.

And so Louise has helped hundreds find their ministry. Based on their gifts and their passion.

Back when it was all about committee work in her church, about 60 people were involved. Now that it is about ministry and freedom and passion, several hundred are involved.

That, to me, is the purpose of ministry…to create and sustain opportunities for more ministry. To equip ministers for service…

To welcome the stranger; to feed the hungry; to shelter the homeless; to take in strays; put yourself out; talk to a teenager, listen to someone who is dying; raise money to keep it all going and growing.

When you are doing that, you really are not a volunteer anymore. You are more than that. You are part of a shared ministry.

If you are willing to be accountable...for indeed that is part of ministry. We cannot entrust such sacred and vital things to one another unless we are willing to be accountable for what we agree to do…

But if you are willing to be accountable, passionate, show up, play well with others, you are part of the ministry of the church.

No, you need not have a seminary education to be a minister. We have too many excellent lay leaders marching off to seminary already—because they cannot find meaningful shared ministries and opportunities for learning and growth within our congregations. You need not have a seminary education. You can get the education you need right here, or should be able to.

And you need not be nice all the time. Don’t ministers have to be nice all the time? That would get old. No, you only have to be kind, which is not the same thing as nice. Making nice does not equal ministry. Kindness is sometimes outspoken, calls for accountability, tells people when they are not keeping good boundaries, is willing to name that which glorifies the individual at the expense of the institution.

You need not be nice all the time to be a minister.

I would need some sort of specialized training, wouldn’t I? Maybe, for some things.

Last year in the church I served in Rochester, New York, we created the ministry of parking. Ice covers the parking lots there from October to April. It is hard for elders to navigate. Lots were crowded, traffic jams…I was getting weekly reports of those who gave up and went home. Of the disabled who found marked van spots taken by those who did not need them.

We got a bunch of day glow orange vests, and a bunch of people passionate about making it easy and safe for everyone to come to church, and we created the ministry of parking.

You have such ministries of passion and freedom here.

The ministries of those who go to build homes in Tijuana.

The ministries of those on the pastoral care team and the Personal Concerns crew. The passionate people planning small group ministry. Those who welcome and usher and sing and serve coffee. There is much passion and much ministry here.

Many of you know that, and did not need to hear a word I said. But many do not. You can come to church for months if not years and not know that the church can be about equipping you for ministry. So I needed to say it.

And the church can be ever so much more about it. That’s why I have annoyed some folks here by asking that you examine your governance and your committee structure. Why would I do that?

Because I think you can do more of the wonderful ministry you now do. Much more. When all are invited to reflect on why they came here, what they found, what is their passion…And onto ministry teams…When that happens, there is movement away from drudgery, and toward freedom… perfect freedom in perfect service.
Then you are not doing it for the church. There is really no reason to do anything for the church. Except the work of the church, which is ministry. Which is welcoming the stranger, feeding the hungry--in mind, body and spirit; sheltering the homeless; taking in strays; listening to the one who is dying—or growing, or in whatever sort of pain, equipping others for ministry, and raising money to keep it all going.

That is my vision for the church.