MY PERSONAL APPLICATION

So now I get to the hard part: What am I going to do about this material? How do I flee from the temptation toward relevance when I live in the world of ministry, with degrees in practical theology and being surrounded by very real, practical, tangible needs? How do I find ways to carve out time for contemplative prayer when the programs of our little non-program oriented church are so great? Every weekend I could literally fill with worship plans, neighborhood cleanup and servant evangelism, worship services and counseling sessions. Then consider the needs of a large and growing family, and the rest of the time is taken up there. And, oh yeah, I have a full-time ministry teaching at the college. So, I can say no to 90% of the opportunities, be both an irresponsible family man and church worker, and still not have time for contemplative prayer. Where is the balance?

And how do I have victory over the temptation to be individually spectacular? How do I keep from being the one who runs the church, who leads the music and worship field, who runs family devotions and leads discipleship groups at school and is available to alumni and students? Again, even a modicum of availability leaves me stretched too thin to do anything well. What is the answer?

And how does a guy who has craved power his whole life learn how to be led, rather than to lead? I have spent all these years in associate ministry positions, having to submit and wait on preachers and elders to catch the vision that was in my heart. Now that I have had the power in a church to shape the philosophy and to set the tone, can I just give that up and return to the role of submission? I don’t mind submitting to the Holy Spirit, but I chafe at the idea that He would lead me through another person.

Here is the path that the Lord has led me down the last six months. Each of these steps has been necessary. Some have been painful. Some I have not yet really submitted to do yet. But here is what God has clearly told me.

God has called Ellen and me to take in and eventually adopt a baby, and then another one. When we were considering taking in Isaac, we sought counsel. Almost all of our friends advised us that there is a limit to our strength, and that we were there. I had been in agreement with all of them right up until near the end, when an epiphany struck me. God wanted to teach me something through Isaac, and he assured me that in the midst of it, I would learn much about joy. What I am to learn from Isaac is how to put my schedule where my rhetoric has been; at home. We are to the edge of our abilities and sometimes beyond. It may kill us. But one life is worth much sacrifice. Just ask Jesus about the value of a soul.

Not long after taking on so much at home, the Lord made it clear that I must step down from the informal pastor position that I held at the church, give up almost all administrative responsibilities, and live my calling to my wife and children. A dear friend persuaded the elders to require me to stay away from helping people move or from doing physical labor for people. I forced myself to take my hands off of everything for ten weeks, and then not to pick it up again. I set a schedule in place to let others lead worship about every other week, and to work as a team in planning. I now must let our elders to do the work of elders (plural) and to discern the direction for the body, but not to be the staff who carries it all out. I needed to end my salary from the church, which not only forces us to live more simply, but also relieves me of the feeling of responsibility to the church. I am also in the process of taking a sabbatical from school, and to renegotiate carefully what I am paid to do at school, and to give away all that I can. I am back under the yoke of consensus and of letting others preach and make decisions.

What am I learning? I am learning that the world goes on spinning without me controlling it. Ministry happens, God does His work, and often goes better without me (much as that hurts my ego). I am learning to live with myself not owning responsibility, but to focus on what I am given, which is my family first and my house church second, and then my neighbors third. And that’s all, at least for this season of my life. There are a thousand good things to do, and I will not do most of them. And that’s okay.

What energy I have after my few non-negotiables is given over to prayer and to discerning God’s leading. I am living with myself. I am finding peace. And occasionally, I actually have life to give away.