A little pastoral sharing may suit a few of you today. The more I spend time with fellow ministers, the more I become self-aware of the uniqueness of our calling. This uniqueness comes at different levels and it moves men in profound ways depending largely on their personalities and predispositions.
One of those emotional bursts in the life of the minister happens when a saint leaves the local church. Church departures can be one of the most emotional experiences for a pastor (and for members as well). This past Lord’s Day, we prayed for two young couples leaving our community; both of whom enriched our lives at our church for a beautiful season. Both couples added different gifts to the church, but both added immense joy to the flock.
Before I prayed for them, I reminded the church what the Apostle says in Hebrews 13:17. Members are to submit to their leaders… so that their work will be a joy, not a burden, for that would be of no benefit to you. Membership carries a weighty responsibility, which is to make the pastor’s job joyful and not burdensome. Indeed, in my dissertation, I wrote about the nature of longevity in the pastoral office. Most pastors leave the ministry quite early for lack of encouragement from the flock which leads to burdens, which burdens lead to misery, which misery leads to early departures from the ministry. In fact, the low rate of pastoral stay in churches–less than five years–is largely due to the Hebrews 13:17 factor
This, of course, is not to say that pastors live an error-free life. There are times when pastors don’t make their parishioners’ lives joyful, and when they don’t fulfill their duties effectively as ministers. These all play a significant role in this conversation as well.
Nevertheless, when families leave it leaves an immense lacuna in the life of the pastor. Pastors–and I speak to many who share this profound sadness–invest in their lives by officiating weddings, baptizing infants, ministering during a crisis, eating, laughing, singing, worshipping together, and much more, and when the reality hits that a family must leave for whatever reason, it feels like a form of death for a minister.
Ministers pour into the lives of saints–and more so in smaller congregations–in a deeply emotional way. When Paul spoke of being a father to the Corinthians, this was no metaphor. For Paul, to watch little children grow up under your care, to see them suffer, to walk and live with them in the rhythm of the church calendar year after year can only be described as a fatherly role. It is in one sense the feeling parents have when their children leave for college or the feeling a sister has when their best friend leaves for another state. It all hits at a very deep level.
Changes happen. Things move. Chapters close. Kids grow up. But the absence the following Sunday when those chairs are no longer filled with the presence and humanity of those saints carry a loss that is hard to articulate. Even at times when the departure stems from difficult relationships or theological differences, or a professional move, we, pastors, humbly called to serve and filled with our own insecurities, suffer the absence of those whom we loved in our local community. We, therefore, pray that our reunion one day will supply some of the joy that departed when they first left.
