My Dear Shepherds,
I doubt our people have any idea how much faith our calling requires. Oh, they may give us more credit than we deserve for praying bold, far-reaching prayers, or obeying the Bible from one end to the other. They might assume we never doubt or tire of serving God. But I don’t think they can imagine how often we fall back on faith because we don’t know what else to do. Pastors know better than most that when Jesus said, “Without me you can do nothing,” he wasn’t kidding!
Take, for example, how often we don’t know what to say. When God first called us, if we’d known what we were in for, we’d have cited Moses: “Pardon your servant, Lord. I have never been eloquent, neither in the past nor since you have spoken to your servant. I am slow of speech and tongue.” You walk into the presence of a grief-shattered family having no idea what to say. A counselee dumps damage and confusion in front of you and waits for your help. You must confront someone in their sin or you have to speak to your congregation in the wake of a crisis and you have no words.
I can’t tell you how often in those situations I claimed what Jesus promised:
When they arrest you, do not worry about what to say or how to say it. At that time you will be given what to say, for it will not be you speaking, but the Spirit of your Father speaking through you. (Matt. 10:19-20)
Father, I’ve whispered, I know there is no king bent on persecuting me, but I have no idea what to say, so now’s the time! I knew a pastor who stammered terribly. Once, when I was going to preach about Moses’ excuses I called and asked him how he managed to be a preacher when speech was so difficult for him. He told me that when he stood to preach, he never stammered. Go figure. Speaking “what to say or how to say it ” requires faith our people never see.
Another example: our people rarely see the faith we need to love them well. Nothing so identifies anyone as a disciple of Jesus as our love for one another, and that duty lies especially heavy upon pastors. We’ve all had to try to love people who are terribly difficult. A pastor I know emailed some friends about a long-simmering explosion in his church. He wrote, “The meeting last night went badly by most measurements.” Then this, “I trust that God is working through it anyway.” There it is. What pastor doesn’t understand that?
Even when our people are great, it takes faith to love them well, to depend on God to superintend our schedules and conversations. Our days are often interrupted by the nudges and prompts of God. But our people see that we were there when they needed us or remember our timely call.
They also don’t see how our faith is tested along with theirs. Sometimes we suffer and wait with them, bewildered, in the ashes. I recall two seasons when there seemed to be so many heavy, unanswered prayers among my flock that my own faith was faltering. Each time I prayed, Lord, I must be able to trust you for their sake. I have to be able to give them confidence in you. Please show me that you still answer prayers. In each case, God lifted my weary faith the way Aaron and Hur lifted the arms of Moses. But no one saw that.
Be ye glad!
Pastor Lee
