To say church life comes with both highs and lows would be an understatement. There is seemingly always this emotional rollercoaster that is part of what it means to live in community. There are those times of great joy as the hand of God reaches into congregational life and does what only he can do. At the other end of the spectrum, there are those times of difficulty that are inevitably and deeply experienced. 

This is arguably even more true in the life of the pastor. We are called to come alongside those we serve through joy, sorrow, and everything in between. We carry a relational and spiritual connection with our parishioners that is both fulfilling and weighty. It’s a journey we experience but cannot explain. 

There is in fact so much joy in ministry. There are baptisms to celebrate, weddings we share with happy families, the privilege of witnessing broken lives put back together, the miracle of praying with someone who had decided to follow Jesus, and so much more. We are right to celebrate!

But (isn’t there always a but?), a sense of loss is something we also experience as we walk with those we serve. We grieve every time someone makes the choice to leave our church. It’s so difficult not to take each of those times personally. Sometimes those who leave are the ones we have poured so much into. At times they are those who have been among our supporters and encouragers. They may be among those who have contributed significantly to the church financially. It seems that every time someone leaves, there is a hole to fill in the church and often one in our own lives. The loss is real. 

We experience loss in so many other ways. Parishioners we love die, conflict fractures relationships, marriages fail, people we love make destructive choices, hurting people withdraw from connection, families move away, supporters become critics, critics voices are amplified, you get the idea. Loss is inevitable in the life of the pastor. 

All this raises a key question. How can we maintain our joy in the midst of what seems like constant loss? Is it possible to flourish, to experience the abundance of life Jesus came to give, when it ministry gets hard?

Here are some thoughts about how to thrive in the midst of loss:

• Become aware of the impact loss has on us. Because of the myriad of emotions that accompany the life of the pastor, it is at times difficult to identify the loss we feel. Some years ago, I found myself in next town over from a new and exciting pastoral assignment. It was one of those days where I had two funerals in the same town, but I knew neither of the deceased. Yet, I found myself overwhelmed with a sadness that was new to me. After some time of reflection between the funerals, I realized I was experiencing grief – not for those whose funerals I was officiating but for the loss of my previous ministry assignment and those I had loved and served for years. 

I was confused – I had chosen this new place to serve, why was I so sad? It was grief at the loss that was simply part of ministry. Grief is an unavoidable companion in the journey of pastoral ministry. Each loss, whether personal or within our congregation, leaves its mark on our hearts. Yet, in the midst of our grief, we find the seeds of resilience. By embracing our grief and allowing ourselves to mourn, we create space for healing. 

• Foster a culture of community in your life. Ministry can be lonely, even in the best of times. Loss can heighten our sense of loneliness exponentially. Thriving in ministry is almost impossible without the support of community. Engage with your ministry peers, risk being vulnerable to others about what you are going through. Relationships with our Christian family is the context in which healing takes place. Don’t be a lone ranger. Doing ministry in isolation is nothing short of dangerous. 
• Cultivate flourishing through spiritual practices. Our ability to navigate loss with resilience is deeply intertwined with our spiritual practices. Prayer, meditation, scripture reading, and worship are not just rituals; they are lifelines that sustain us in the midst of life’s storms. By prioritizing our spiritual well-being, we cultivate the resilience needed to weather the inevitable challenges of ministry. The simple truth is that there is a profound and fundamental connection between our thriving and our walk with Jesus. We navigate loss so much better when we have been close to him. 
• Allow hope to be your anchor. Without hope, there is little capacity to flourish in life and ministry. Gratefully, hope is at the core of our faith. God’s promises are absolutely true. His presence is an ever-present reality. Our future is secure in him. Biblical hope is far more than wishful thinking. It is inherently and fully trustworthy and our capacity to live in that hope is deeply imbedded in the reality of Jesus’ resurrection and experienced as we know him better and better. It is that hope that fills our hearts in the midst of loss. 

Yes, loss is inevitable in the life of the pastor. We experience loss not only in our pastoral roles but in our personal lives as well. I am in the process personally of coping with loss related to my vision. I am not an expert when it comes to navigating this, but I am learning. I am learning that as I practice what I am sharing with you, while loss remains, that sense of life and joy and thriving finds its way into my heart. 

So, recognize your loss. Confess it, seek God’s face in the midst of it. Live a life of community with peers, friends, and fellow believers. Walk with Jesus. Abide in hope. In so doing, with the Psalmist you will be able to proclaim that weeping might last for a night but joy comes in the morning. 

Trish Harrison recently wrote in the New York Times, “If you are a part of a church, there is a good chance your pastor is not all right.” A growing number of researchers agree: there is a growing mental health crisis impacting clergy across denominational lines. Among new data are the following unsettling findings:

• Near the end of 2020, approximately 30% of pastors were seriously considering leaving ministry. This was in the early stages of the global Covid-19 pandemic.
• As 2021 neared an end, it was the expectiation of many experts that the number would be decreasing. However, that number increased to 39%.
• By March 2022, Barna reported that the number of those considering leaving had increased to 42%. Other researchers discovered that among those pastors 45 and under the number was 46%.

While Covid was certainly the great accelerator of this alarming trend, the reality is that ministers are currently facing what might well be considered a perfect storm. Political division, racial tensions, theological battles, stress from differing views regarding LGBTQ+ issues, and a myriad of other cultural forces have magnified the stress factors already inherent to ministry in the local church.

Changing expectations of the part of parishioners has also become a major issue driving the mental health crisis for clergy. Some of those include:

• The feeling that “I didn’t sign up for this” is a common thread among those pastors who are struggling. The changes in expectations feel incredibly unrealistic to many. The need to be a CEO, a real estate expert, the growing need to excel in technology, managing challenging budgetary issues in these inflationary times, and similar issues seem to many to be not only unrealistic but downright impossible.
• These and other seemingly unrealistic expectations have created a growing strain on marriage and family relationships for many pastors. This is a key factor in the mental health crisis.

While online presence has been a positive for many pastors and congregations, there is an often unrecognized downside to this new way of doing church. The comparison parishioners make with polished and well-funded online services, along with the inevitable comparisons made with other preachers has created feelings of inadequacy and doubt among many leaders. Further, those choosing to avoid returning to church in person and instead utilizing online resources creates tremendous stress as metrics that were used pre-pandemic has led to discouragement for the pastor and has engendered growing criticism within local church circles.

Growing financial stress has created even more hardship for pastors. Inflation continues to impact church income, often resulting in pay cuts for ministry families. It is forcing a growing number of pastors being forced into co-vocational roles, something else they feel as though they didn’t sign up for. And, no, there is no clergy discount at the grocery store!

Anger expressed in social media also contributes to this crisis. Church members inappropriately using Facebook, Twitter, and other platforms has emboldened critics, disappointed pastors, and hindered the work of the church. Often, pastors find themselves on the receiving end of such rage.

Fatigue has often been reported as one result of this perfect storm. Burnout, an emotionally dangerous place, is thought to be at all-time high. Pastors are often running on empty, and the reality is that many, as stated earlier, are not all right. The challenge for many in ministry is that there has long been the. perception that it is not all right for pastors to not be all right.

Loneliness is another force driving this crisis. For decades, researchers have reported that 70% of pastors feel like loneliness is a key factor impacting their well-being. We are learning more and more that ministry in isolation is dangerous to the mental health, emotional well-being, and spiritual vitality of pastors. This is a significant factor.

In the midst of all that, the weight of the pain and heartache of those the pastor serves is a heavy load to carry. Many of the cultural issues facing pastors are also impacting parishioners, and carrying that weight is challenging. Not to mention, there are always the issues of death and grief, personal issues of those pastors love and serve, and the driving desire to see people come to faith all still remain even in these changing times.

One of the most common manifestations of mental health issues among clergy is depression. One North Carolina study of United Methodist pastors discovered that depression and anxiety rates were significantly higher among ministers than that of the general population. The often related experience of anxiety, often co-existing with depression, is on the rise at alarming rates.

Burnout, a complex set of symptoms that includes emotional exhaustion, a high degree of depersonalization, and a low sense of personal accomplishment, has become one of the chief causes of clergy exiting ministry entirely. Lack of self-care, inadequate boundaries, accelerated stress levels, and unresolved conflict contribute to cause burnout. Much more could be said about burnout. Suffice it to say here that it is hazardous to mental health, and clergy often find themselves in the perfect place to experience it.

Harrison, quoted above, also wrote, “ministry in America is not sustainable if nearly half of younger pastors feel burned out and are considering leaving ministry as a vocation. To move forward and heal, pastors need rest. They need support. They need access to therapy. And like the rest of us, they need kindness and grace.(Italics added)” We cannot afford to ignore her observation.

So what do we do? The problems seem almost insurmountable. How do clergy maintain an acceptable level of mental health in the midst of today’s challenges?

For those who find themselves facing troubling mental health issues, there are some immediate steps that should be taken. The first might be the most difficult. The stigma related to clergy needing help, particularly professional help, has to be rejected. It’s ironic that while pastors frequently encourage parishioners to seek help, they find it alarmingly difficult to seek it themselves.

Find a counselor or a therapist. Lay leaders can be a huge help here. Encourage your pastor to seek someone to talk to, and pay the bill! Consult with your physician – do you need medication? A personal note here – in a conversation with my then personal physician, he indicated that in all his years of family practice he had never had a pastor as a patient who at least at some point who didn’t need antidepressant medication. Pastor, you are not alone!

Seek the support of colleagues. It might be surprising to find how many of them are in similar situations. Research continually indicates that pastors who are healthy and thriving in ministry do not serve in isolation. They have a mentor and they have peers in their lives. Take the risk, connect with both a mentor and colleagues. We are created to live in community. Admittedly, that is sometimes very difficult for pastors to find. However, these days it is not a luxury or even optional.

Cultivate appropriate boundaries. Make allies with your elders or board members. Enlist the help of family and colleagues to develop a greater capacity to say no, and to better discern what you say yes to. Every time you say yes to something, you are by definition saying no to something else. Admittedly, in the role of pastor, this is much easier said than done. Yet, now more than ever, it must be done.

Prioritize life-giving relationships. The strain on clergy marriages today is immeasurable but very real. it’s virtually impossible to thrive in ministry if one isn’t thriving at home. Guard your day off with tenacity. It’s easy to live out our call in a way that our families feel second or third or worse in our priority list. That’s dangerous.

Most critically, guard your walk with Jesus. It’s not a stretch to say that one can die spiritually while preaching strong sermons and leading well. We can get by on talent and ability for a while and no one will be the wiser. But without spiritual health, effective ministry simply cannot be sustained.

Engage with a spiritual director or someone who can help nurture your walk with Jesus. Adjust your schedule so that it reflects that you prioritize your life with him. Watch our for the “drift” that is so common in the lives of pastors. No paster ever intentionally neglects this crucial part of our discipleship. We just drift into it.

Pastors are not all alike. We all have different needs, habits, lifestyles, and preferences. There is no one size fits all solution. So, make a plan that suits you. Recognize the dangers to your mental health that is inherent to ministry. With the help of a spouse, a mentor, and trusted colleagues, develop a personal thriving plan that will not only help you survive, but thrive.

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It is powerful when the church gathers. We celebrate through worship, experience encouragement through connection and engagement, and hear God’s voice as his word is spoken. So often, it is the best part of the week. God has promised to be present when we come together in his name. There is nothing quite like the gathered church.

At least for now, though, we are instead a scattered church. Being a scattered church changes so much. Corporate worship has never looked like it does now. Small groups meeting online have replaced the “normal” gatherings we cherish so much.  Who would have imagined a time when children’s ministry and student ministry would look like it does today? And what about the church’s mission? How can we go into the world as salt and light when we we’ve been asked to stay at home?

We are scattered – but might it be that we are strategically so? This is not the first time the church has been scattered. Peter, his first letter, writes to the scattered early church. This church was not scattered by a pandemic but by persecution. Like us, they surely missed the joy and hope found in being together. But, as Peter reminds that early church, God’s mercy continues to abide with us.

That mercy, Peter says, brings us the gift of new birth into relationship with God! “New” here doesn’t so much mean recently received but rather refers to the life we now have with God through Christ. He goes on to highlight what that life brings.

This new life, Peter says, brings hope, not just any hope, but a living hope that is rooted in the reality that Jesus lives. For us today, then, we have this relationship with the God whose great mercy brings us hope. This hope is a certainty, a certainty that God is greater that this virus, than the fear it might bring. Without a doubt, he is control and we are in his hands. Now that is awesome!

Peter tells us, too, that we also have this incredible inheritance that is ours. It is as certain as our hope is. He tells us that it can never perish, spoil, or fade. Here’s the thing. Like the scattered early church, we’ve been given new birth, new life, the very love and presence of God in our lives. It’s ours because of God’s mercy, and it’s possible because of the truth that Jesus lives, and that he lives in us. That gives us a hope that is a certainty in this time of great uncertainty. We can rest assured that we are in the palm of his hands. And this life that we have inherited, yes, abundant life in the midst of a pandemic, cannot be taken from us.

So, let’s rejoice in what the pandemic cannot take. We have life in him, hope beyond measure, and an inheritance that cannot be measured. And as his scattered church, let’s make sure those whose lives we now touch know what God’s mercy makes available to them. Remember, the pandemic didn’t close the church. It opened one in every neighborhood. So, until we gather again, let’s scatter together with hope!

 

In 38 years of ministry, I have never had a sabbatical. In my younger days, I wore that fact as a badge of honor, as some kind of symbol of working hard and of being committed to my call. Looking back, I realize how unwise and unhealthy that was. Now, instead of seeing it as something laudable, it is something I regret. Fatigue, spiritual dryness, reduced ministry effectiveness, and hardship on my family were among the many consequences of my misguided thinking.

Recently, I was caught off guard by necessary but unexpected surgery. Something else also caught me off guard. Rather than dreading surgery, I found myself actually looking forward to the 6-8 weeks of forced rest I would be getting. There has to be something wrong with that!

During my recovery period, I had plenty of time to rest. Much of that time was spent reflecting on and praying about different aspects of my life and ministry. I was compelled to grapple with the weirdness of the fact that I welcomed the time off, even though it took surgery to get it.

Here are some of the key lessons from my “surgical sabbatical.”

I am not indispensable. As with most who are in ministry, I often fight with this notion that if I don’t do something, it won’t get done; that if I am unavailable, everything will fall apart. It amazes me how common that view is among pastors and ministry leaders. But I discovered during my time off that I am not indispensable. Nothing bad happened. Ministry went on. The sun came up. The news cycle continued.  I realized that not everything I was connected to hinged on my constant presence. I discovered that my role was crucial, but that effectiveness in ministry means establishing things solidly enough that they don’t depend on me to run. The fact is that I need God far more than God needs me.

I can easily confuse busyness with effectiveness. Who in ministry hasn’t looked at their full calendar and thought that the busyness seen there meant effective ministry, important things, were taking place? One of the great insights in the days of recovery for me was that being busy, something else I formerly wore as a badge of honor, does not imply that I am being effective or having impact. I learned that I can say no, that I don’t have to over-fill my calendar to appropriately live out my call, and that sometimes busyness actually can be the enemy of effectiveness. I have to guard against the need to be busy, and instead appropriate my time in healthy ways and for maximum impact.

I sometimes feel guilty when I rest. Like many others, I sometimes find myself driven by guilt. The reality is that for those in ministry, the work is never finished. There is always an unfinished project or an undone task. It’s been hard to learn, and even harder to admit, that guilt sometimes drives us. But the truth is that the guilt that accompanies rest from those tasks is an unhealthy motivation. There is something about forced rest that makes one realize that choosing to rest has great value.  God rested, Jesus modeled rest, and I can rest, too, without guilt.

Those with whom I serve expect me to be wise enough to take care of myself. Often, ministers sit back and wait for a caring elder, a sensitive parishioner, or a good friend to take the initiative in noticing when we are tired, stressed, or spiritually drained. But the fact is that most often, we experience the impact of those things either before others notice or at least before they are willing to address it with us. People expect us to be able to articulate our needs and to live out an appropriate self-care. The biblical principle of the Sabbath indicates that God expects the same thing. I confess, and I doubt I am alone, that asking for support, letting others in on our tiredness or our sense of being depleted is a difficult thing to do. We are grown ups and must develop the self-awareness we need to take care of our spiritual, emotional, and physical health.

In looking back on what I learned, I realize that there no new breaktrhough lessons, nothing earthshaking, and certainly nothing we haven’t heard before. The breakthrough for me was that these things, and others as well, became more than words or bullet points in a leadership blog post. They are now life-giving pieces of my journey.

My desire, and my prayer, is that someone else could would be confronted by the personal lessons I learned and be free from the pieces that have hindered me through the years. You are not indispensable nor do you have to have your calendar filled to excess in order to please God and live out your call. It is okay, even essential, that you rest. It is mandatory that you take care of yourself – spiritually, relationally, emotionally, and physically. These things will actually please the Father in the way our unhealthy attempts to please him can’t.

I am thankful for the lessons I learned from my “surgical sabbatical.”

 

Dr. Carl Addison
EVM, Inc.

 

 

 

“Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you (1 Thess. 5:18).” Wow, that’s easier said than done! No one is immune from the hard circumstances of life. Nor are we exempt from the tendency to focus on them or even be consumed by them. Yet, Paul has the audacity to write such words. And, frankly, it is a great way to find greater faith and joy in our journey with Christ. Yet, is it possible? How can we do it?

• Remember where you’ve been.

It’s often not until we look back on all we’ve been through, all the difficulties we’ve faced, that we remember that while there may still be some challenges ahead, God has indeed been at work. Many times, it is only in looking back at where we’ve been that we realize how much he has done for us and how blessed we are. Remembering the journey we’ve been on can help us be thankful people even when life is not perfect.

• Focus on that with which you’ve been blessed.

In those times when gratitude seems so elusive, we tend to lose our focus on the goodness of God. From forgiveness and peace, to family and friends, to our material possessions, we tend to have much more than we think.  Take a walk through your home, look at what’s there, and thank your Father not only for what you see, but for what many of those things mean to you. Thank him for those special people in the photos displayed, for those things that were gifts to you that hold special meaning, for a place to call home, and for countless other things as you take your “walk of thanks.” It’s a great way to focus on what you have, not on what you don’t have.

• Be a blessing.

We need each other. Jesus talked about dying to live, serving instead of being served, and demonstrating our discipleship by our love for others. So, find someone who needs a reason to be thankful. You may be the very one whose touch in the life of another enables them to get even a glimpse of him.  Helping someone else find gratitude can certainly help us be grateful.

• Allow thankfulness to become central to your thoughts.

We often neglect the fact that we can choose what we think about. Paul, in writing to the Philippians (4:6-9), reminds us of the kinds of things that dominate the thoughts of thankful people.  There he encourages us to focus on those things that are good. He calls those things excellent and praiseworthy. He reminds us to pray with thanksgiving, telling God our needs without forgetting his goodness. And then his admonition ends with an exclamation point, “And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”

It cannot be denied that it is sometimes difficult to feel thankful. Life can be hard, sometimes very hard. Yet, our focus, what we choose to think about, can transform our hearts and minds. And that transformation results in gratitude because it compels us to remember that God is good, his grace is amazing, and his love for us is extravagant.

With the growing proliferation of various types of coaching for pastors today, many are asking if a coaching relationship is something to consider. With already full schedules creating the questions of whether to add yet another item to the calendar, with outstanding conferences and webinars readily available, and with so many excellent resources available in books and online, it is definitely a reasonable question.

Yet, a coach can be extremely beneficial to those in ministry, regardless of experience, expertise, or time constraints. Here are some things to consider in answering the question, “should I consider getting a coach?” The following items assume that the coach is one who is qualified, capable, and effective.

1. A coach can be an excellent sounding board. Often, a fresh set of eyes on one’s life and ministry can bring a perspective one cannot find among peers, trusted friends, or leaders in one’s congregation.
2. A coach can help clarify mission, vision, and goals. Meaningful discussion with an effective coach can bring about a fresh awareness of the nature of one’s call, how to implement that call and pursue vision in one’s ministry context, and the capacity to clearly delineate goals designed to fulfill one’s unique sense of call and purpose. in this context, it could be said that a coaching relationship follows a biblical model for ministry.  Consider the relationship between Paul and Timothy.
3. A coach can help those in ministry find an appropriate balance between family, personal growth, and ministry demands. Many in ministry find this difficult, and without this balance, stress can become overwhelming and vital relationships can be damaged.
4. A coach can be instrumental in enabling one to cultivate a healthy focus on one’s spiritual formation. Many in ministry struggle to maintain a vital prayer life and a growing relationship with Christ in the midst of the hectic pace of life with which many in ministry live.
5. A coach can be a cost-effective resource for one’s continued learning and growth. Consider the expense of attending just one major conference. Airfare, hotel and food costs, and registration alone can often exceed $1000, and seldom do those events offer ongoing relationships that facilitate continued implementation of what is learned. Please note, this is not an argument against attending excellent events, they can be extremely valuable. It is instead an encouragement to use one’s resources in ways that maximize the value of dollars spent.
6. A coach can help facilitate growing self-awareness. One of the bigger issues those in ministry face is that focus is so much on what other’s need. Effective coaching can help one grow in self-awareness and the ability to understand how one’s behavior impacts others in ways that enhance ministry leadership ability.

This list, of course, is not exhaustive. Instead, it is an attempt to offer a place to start as one attempts to answer the question, “should I consider getting a coach?”

We often attribute the “near misses” in our lives to the hand of God.  We barely avoid an auto accident, and we breath a prayer of thanks, sensing God has intervened. We get a good report about tests our doctor has ordered, and we thank him that we are not sick. We narrowly avoid losing our job, dodge the bullet when we miss a deadline , or even escape jury duty and we feel like God has been working behind the scenes to keep our lives free of trouble.

But what about those times when, instead of the “near miss,” we take a “direct hit”? The biopsy is malignant, the phone call in the middle of the night changes our lives, the other driver slides on the ice across the center line and crashes into us, what then? What about when we get the pink slip, or someone we dearly love finds themselves in a deep, dark place? Are we to assume that God was nowhere present in those moments?

If there is one thing that is true it is that God is always at work. He will always be true to his word. He promised throughout scripture that he would never leave us to live or fight life’s battles alone. Even when our lives are not free of trouble, even when we experience the hard things we longed to avoid, he is there, faithfully loving us and working for our good.

While this might not be eloquently stated, one of the great lessons in life is that very often, God reveals himself to us not so much in the near misses but in the direct hits. This is not to say that he doesn’t intervene, that he doesn’t protect. It is instead to say that when we take that direct hit, when the troubles or heartaches come, we are drawn to him out of a great sense of need.

So many times, the direct hit causes us to realize how much we need God. That sense of desperation drives us to him, and as James said, when we draw near him, he will draw near us. When the biopsy is positive, the pink slip is in the mailbox, or the prodigal in our lives drift away, we often discover in the midst of it all that God is there, right in the midst of it all, and that without him we would be lost.

The direct hit, the times when bad things happen to us, are not caused by God. But his power and love is so amazing that those times are often the times when we see his hand of provision, experience the wonder of his presence, and stand in awe at the peace we cannot understand. We learn, in the midst of the direct hit, that he is faithful and that we are not alone.

On a personal note, let me add that my household has taken a couple of direct hits lately. In the midst of them, we have never sensed God more clearly, or felt loved by him more deeply. Would we have rather had a near miss or two? You bet! But in the place we find ourselves now, we know that in the hard times, in the times we have been desperate for him, he has been incredibly faithful.  Without the direct hits, we may not be in the place we are with him. We have learned about prayer, about God’s provision, and about his faithfulness in ways that we could never have learned from a near miss.

Have you taken a “direct hit” lately? I am “confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus (Phil. 1:6 NIV).

One of the commonly used terms around many churches today is “volunteer.”  Usually the term is used in reference to those who serve in various lay, unpaid capacities in the local church.  It is not uncommon to hear volunteers thanked for their service or  recognized for their contributions.

Dictionary.com defines a volunteer as one who performs a service willingly and without pay, one who offers himself or herself for a service or undertaking. For the most part, that definition pretty well describes the role of one who serves in the life of the church.  However, it is what is not said in that definition that creates a desire in me to want to remove the word from the vocabulary we use in church life. Let me explain.

First of all, nowhere in the New Testament Church did people volunteer to serve in the church.  Elders were appointed and given ministry responsibility, and those who were part of the body of believers were expected to use their spiritual gifts for the common good, for the building up of the church.

Further, the word “volunteer” carries with it certain cultural implications.  To volunteer is often seen as doing something as time allows.  There seems to be, at least to me, an underlying lack of commitment to the task for which one volunteers. When we do not clearly define the way we are using the term, it may sound as if we are giving people permission to serve when it’s convenient, or that their keeping their commitment to serve is optional, that they leave no vacancy when such commitments are not kept.

To call using ones musical abilities to enable others to worship an act of volunteerism diminishes the value of the service.  Describing that one as a volunteer  who leads a small group of teens into a deeper walk with Christ, in the face of the challenges today’s students face,  is to undervalue that role significantly.  Those who lovingly and patiently nurture our children in faith are going far beyond the scope of volunteering. When that hospitality leader enables a hurting person who found their way into the church building during a time of crisis find a sense of belonging, something more than volunteerism is happening.

In those cases above, and countless others, those we call volunteers are doing ministry.  Those called to vocational ministry are charged with equipping the people of God to do ministry, not volunteer.  In our culture, volunteering is easy, and it is something we do when we feel like it.

Ministry, on the other hand, calls us to give ourselves away, to do what costs us something personally, to put the needs of others ahead of our calendars, our feelings, or our wishes. That is beyond merely volunteering.

To recognize those who work and sacrifice, who  touch lives with love, who share Christ, who serve food to those in need, or care for infants in a nursery so parents can worship without distraction as ministry partners and teammates seems to be a more biblical and accurate approach.  After all, aren’t we all called to ministry?

It is true that none of us intentionally imply that the work of those who serve in our churches is not significant.  It’s just that words matter.  Volunteerism takes place in social organizations, ministry happens in the church. So, what if we talked about ministry partners, team members, or teammates instead?