Remembering Why You Said Yes

This article was first published in Neue Quarterly, Vol. 4, Summer 2009.

Remembering Why You Said Yes
by Chuck Warnock

The phone  rang at 3 A. M. one Saturday morning.  "Pauline is dying," her niece  said, "Can you come?"  I dressed quickly, told my wife I didn't know  when I would return, and headed out the door.   I drove to the nursing  home ten miles away where the oldest member of our congregation lay  dying.  At 105, Pauline had outlived her husband, her nearest relatives,  her friends, and her neighbors.  Now her time had come, too.  I was  Pauline's pastor.  It was my duty to be there with her as she crossed  from this life into the next.  But I knew it was more than just my job,  it was my calling.

If you are a pastor, you probably have had a  similar experience.  In a time of crisis, you know why you go.  You  represent God's presence, God's comfort, and God's grace to those  passing through their own dark night of the soul.  Sitting in a hospital  with anxious parents whose child is in surgery; or, standing with a  widow as she identifies the body of her husband, you know you make a  difference.  In those times it is not difficult to remember why we said  "Yes" to God's call to pastoral ministry.  Unfortunately, there are  other times in a pastor's life when the clarity of our call fades,  discouragement clouds our memory, and we wonder "why did I ever want to  be a pastor?"

I experienced a period of doubt and  discouragement in 1990, and I forgot why I had become a pastor.  And  when I forgot why I had become a pastor, the next question I  asked myself was, "Why don't you quit?"  And I did.  I resigned the  church I started and left pastoral ministry.  I thought I had nothing  more to say.  I thought my years of ministry hadn't made a difference.  I  was tired emotionally and spiritually, and I quit because I couldn't  remember why I had begun.  Fortunately, my story doesn't end there.  In  2003, I stood in the pulpit for the first time in thirteen years.  I had  remembered again why I said "Yes."

The Myths of Ministry

Looking  back on my own struggle with God's call, I realized that three "myths  of ministry" contributed to my difficulty.  This is not an exhaustive  list, but these myths played a key role in my experience:

• The  myth of inexhaustible energy. In my early ministry, I was a  "get-it-done" type of guy.  I wanted higher attendance, more baptisms, a  bigger budget, and new buildings.  I juggled multiple tasks, worked  long hours, pushed my staff and volunteers hard, and accomplished a lot.  In the churches I served, we set new attendance records, began  additional worship services, bought more property, built and remodeled  buildings, and added a record number of new members.  I ran on  adrenaline, coffee, and praise, but when those ran out, I did, too.
• The  myth of the indispensable pastor. As my ministry grew, I began to  think that no one knew more, could do it better, or had the vision I  had.  I thought I was indispensable to my church, and probably the  Kingdom of God, too.  Rather than let lay leaders practice their own  gifts in ministry, I did it all.  Instead of delegating tasks, I  gathered them to myself.  When something needed to be done, I did it --  from changing light bulbs to picking out toys for the nursery.  I did it  with enthusiasm, I did it with confidence, and I thought no one could  replace me.
• The myth of the inspired visionary. As  I studied growing churches, I discovered outstanding examples led by  visionary pastors who challenged their congregations "to attempt great  things for God, and expect great things from God."  We reached new high  attendance goals.  We adopted multi-phase building programs. We  increased our budgets, gave more to missions, and sent members on global  mission trips.  I saw the vision, cast it before the church, and  rallied our members to it.  I took our success as validation of my  dreams, and pressed ahead with newer and bigger goals.

You  may be able to add to this list of ministry myths, but for me those  were the big three.  Obviously, they all revolved around me -- my  energy, my ability, my vision.  I must confess I enjoyed it for several  years.  Denominational leaders love a success story, and they asked me  to speak at national conferences.  I wrote articles about church  programs from "how to grow a Sunday School," to "how to start a prayer  ministry." But with each achievement I forgot a little more about why I  had said "Yes" to God's call years before.  My own success had become  the reason for my ministry.

Of course, I didn't see it at the  time.  I told myself we were building the Kingdom; that our church was  an example to others; and, that God was blessing us tremendously.  My  self-talk contained enough truth to keep me going for a few more years.   Then one day in February, 1990, I couldn't make sense of my life.  I  had forgotten why I was doing all the stuff I was doing.  It no longer  mattered to me.  I felt drained and empty.  I had forgotten why I said  "Yes."

The Fog of Ministry

Military commanders  describe the failure of communication and the loss of perspective in  battle as the "fog of war." Pastoral ministry has its own fog, too.  In  the midst of the stresses and rewards of everyday life, many pastors  find it difficult to maintain an unwavering sense of call.  We can  confuse our success with our call, which is exactly what I did.  I told  myself that my success in ministry validated my call.  But, when pastors  believe performance validates their call, then ministry failure  invalidates their call.  In other words, if I succeed, it's because God  has called me; but if I fail, then maybe God didn't call me.  We need to  separate our performance from our call.  God called us before we  succeeded or failed in ministry.  His call does not depend upon our  achievement.

Another fog of ministry is confusing church problems  with our call. Congregational conflict can cause pastors to think, "If  I'm called by God to do this, why am I facing so much opposition?  Maybe  God hasn't really called me."  Doubting one's call because of conflict  is not unusual or abnormal.  The Bible contains examples of God-chosen  leaders who doubted their calling when faced with opposition.  Moses,  David, Elijah, Jonah, Peter, and others all faced moments of doubt when  opposition arose.  Separate your problems from your call because they  are not the same.

Finally, in the heat of ministry pastors can  confuse praise or criticism with their call.  All of us enjoy hearing  "That was a great sermon, pastor," but few of us enjoy the criticism of  others.  Praise is like success in ministry: it does not prove God has  called us anymore than criticism indicates He has not.  We need to  separate both praise and criticism from our call.

Remembering  God's Call Again

How did I remember God's call in my own  life?  Fast forward thirteen years from 1990 to 2003.  Through a  providential series of events, a small country church asked me to serve  as their interim pastor.  Then in 2004, Chatham Baptist Church called me  to serve as their pastor.  In my years between pastorates, I came to a  new sense of vocation by reflecting on three aspects of my original  call.  If you are struggling with your call, maybe these three memories  will help you recall why you said "Yes."

• Remember  when. I remembered I was 15 years old when I was called to  "full-time Christian service" at a youth revival in my home church in  Nashville, Tennessee.  During the invitation hymn, I felt God's call to  pastoral ministry.  I walked down the aisle to share that calling with  my pastor and the congregation.  I can still feel the handshakes and  hugs as my church family embraced my call and encouraged my obedience to  God.  That memory is as fresh for me now as it was then, and provides a  touch point in my spiritual journey.
• Remember what. I remembered that what I had to offer God was my obedience.  As a 15  year-old I didn't bring success in ministry because I hadn't had any.  I  didn't bring an impressive academic record because I was still in high  school.  I didn't bring resources, or maturity, or skill.  I just  brought myself.  When I remembered that God called me as a teenager  whose hands were empty, but whose heart was full, then I remembered  again why I had said "Yes."  In Romans 12:1, Paul writes, "Therefore, I  urge you, brothers, in view of God's mercy, to offer your bodies as  living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God—this is your spiritual act  of worship." All God wants is you.  He supplies the rest.
• Remember  who. I remembered I had not answered the call of my denomination,  or my parents, or even my church.  I had answered God's call.  I was to  be obedient to God, and God would guide me.  Even during years away from  pastoral ministry, I knew God's call was still upon me.  I came to a  point in my journey where I was willing do anything God wanted, even if  it meant I would never pastor again.  So, I served in Sunday School, on  church committees, and in the church outreach program.  I came to see  ministry, not as my income, but as my calling again.  I remembered why I  said "Yes" because I remembered who called me.

Remembering  Why Each Day

Remembering is an important practice of our  faith.  On the first Sunday of each month our church gathers around the  Lord's table where we share the bread and cup of Christian communion.   Carved on the front of the communion table are the words, "In  remembrance of me."  Our faith is built on remembering Christ's love for  us.  The observance of communion is built on the ancient practice of  Passover, when Jews remember each year that God brought them out of  slavery into the land of promise.  Memory is powerful in shaping our  faith story, and in holding fast the call of God in our own lives.

In  my own life, I had discovered two inadequate reasons to be in  ministry.  First, a call to ministry cannot be a call to success, for  many followers of Christ have been considered failures by the standards  of popular culture.  Second, a call to ministry cannot be based on our  own cleverness, intellect, or personality.  Paul reminds us that "the  foolishness of God is wiser than man's wisdom, and the weakness of God  is stronger than man's strength."  Our calling cannot be centered upon  who we are, it must be centered on God.

When the Jews remember  the Passover, the youngest child in the family asks, "Why is this night  different from all others?"  Then the family tells the story of the  Exodus experience.  Just as retelling the Exodus account is to remember  that God brought Israel out of bondage and into the land of promise,  recalling why you said "Yes" is to remember the work of God in your own  life.

Jurgen Moltmann describes the Bible as the book of  "remembered hopes."  That phrase captures what I sense now about my call  -- remembering when I said "Yes" gives me hope for the future.   Remembering who called me gives me confidence that though circumstances  change, God does not.  God is the One who called me, He is the One to  whom I am obedient, He is the One who directs my life, and He is the One  who provides for me.  That is why I said "Yes" to His call as teenager,  and that is why I am still saying "Yes" today.