I’m introspective by nature.  A navel gazer.  Self reflective.  Most times far too analytical.  I’m sure there are benefits to this, but I’m too lazy to think of what they are right now.  Very often, someone who is very introspective becomes the person who is often depressed.  In other words, too much time spent in introspection can lead to despair.  At least that’s been my experience.  Your flaws become enhanced.  The parts of you that you don’t like become exaggerated.  So you spend time in a self-induced funk.

The fastest way out of the funk is to get outside of yourself.  Stop being introspective for just a moment, and turn your gaze on someone else.  Someone in need.  Today I made three stops on a round of visitation. The first was to the local Intensive Care Unit.  One of our elderly ladies is there for the 2nd or 3rd time in a year.  Her body has been through so much trauma it is truly a wonder she is still with us.  She talked with me briefly and just cried.  She feels guilty that she is putting her family through this.  I tried to encourage her not to feel that way and prayed with her, but it’s what a mom, grandma, great grandma does.  It’s in their DNA to care for others, and not let them care for her. 

The 2nd stop was to a man who is disabled.  He is rarely able to get out, he has lost his job, and his brother in law passed away last week.  It was perfectly clear he needed someone to talk to.  Someone to be interested in him.  Someone to tell his story to.  And I was that person.  I listened, tried to encourage him, and prayed with him.  I hope he will come to our church.

The 3rd stop was to a 59 year old man who has Down’s Syndrome.  I’ve never met someone with Down’s who has lived that long.  It is God’s grace and his family’s loving care.  He was placed in a Nursing Home/Health Care facility on Monday.  He will likely never live at “home” again and really doesn’t even know why.  He can no longer eat except through a feeding tube.  He cannot do much of anything on his own.  But he knew me, and he smiled and waved when he saw me.  I gave him one of my cards (he plays with them to occupy his time).  I smiled back, talked briefly to him, and then prayed with him.  

When I finished our last visit, I was so energized I couldn’t have been depressed if I tried.  I regularly make those kinds of visits but today I saw them in a new light.  God used them to help me, and I pray help them as well.  If you get into yourself too much, you will discover what I’m writing about.  My encouragement?  Get out.  Get outside of yourself and go serve someone else.  It will not only be a blessing to them, it will go a long way towards showing you God’s grace and love in your life.

Have you ever had the “naked” dream?  The one where you show up somewhere public only to realize that you must have forgotten to put any clothes on?  I had it for the first time as a pastor a few weeks ago.  I was, for some reason only my dream knows, sitting in the back of the church as the worship service began.  Nothing abnormal, nothing out of the ordinary besides that.  The music starts up and all the kids and youth go into the aisles and start some broadway dance looking number.  I realize I need to get up to preach just after the song, and so I’m going to sneak outside and go back in through a side door near the platform.  As I get outside, I walk past a glass window, it’s sunny outside, and so I see my reflection and realize I’ve got pants on, but I have NO shirt on at all.  Not much else to the dream, really, except that in that moment you feel very exposed to the church.

I guess that it feels somewhat the same to be in the ministry and have a publicly known salary.  By no means am I complaining.  In fact I understand why some churches would want to publish the salaries of their pastor.  My church takes good care of me, and my family is not in need.  So it is not a shame thing.  I guess maybe it’s more a privacy thing.  It takes a little getting used to, having people who know and pay your salary through their tithes.  From time to time there are comments about it.  Never a comfortable thing.  And as budget time rolls around, there is the unenviable position of being on the same finance committee that deals with salary.

Of course you don’t ask for a raise.  But what about a deduction?  What does a pastor say when someone on the committee recommends this?  (This has not happened to me by the way, I can simply imagine how it would feel).  They would be put in the ugliest of ugly positions.  No person in any job in the world wants to have their salary lowered, and no person would say a word if an employee put up a fight about it.  But what would they say if a pastor did not want someone to lower his salary?  “He’s not spiritual.  He’s in it for the money.  If he cared about God’s work he’d do it no matter what the pay.”

People REALLY think this way.  I’ve not seen it in the church I pastor thankfully.  I believe in my heart they desire to care for the pastor and family.  But I’ve certainly heard stories.  There are many ways a pastor feels exposed (READ: NAKED) before the congregation, preaching the chief among them.  But the most uncomfortable one has to be everyone reading your salary.  The Good:  It keeps you on your toes and accountable.  The Bad:  You always feel the need to overwork to justify the salary you do make.  It’s an odd world to live in, but if God calls, you go.  Even if you forget to put your shirt on.

To Coldplay’s new song, Viva La Vida.  The lyrics are amorphous enough that even though it sounds like a song sung in first person by a deposed tyrant (not in any way like me!), I relate.  And Coldplay, love ‘em or hate ‘em, know how to craft excellent melodies. Here’s my obvious run down of places this song resonates.  As the “king” he roamed the streets as a king.  They, in essence, belonged to him.  With a word earth shattering events took place (I think of the movement of armies specifically).  Now looking back, those same streets he commanded are swept by him.  He seems to have accepted his downfall from power.  OK, nothing in that is terribly similar to my life.  BUT, there’s resonance yet with me.

He writes of the fickle nature of people.  Out with the old king, “Long live the (new) king.”  Soon, however, those same people (now I’m thinking Jesus) will be out for his own head (“revolutionaries wait for my head on a silver plate”).  Pastors (which if you don’t know, that’s what I am) as much as anyone understand the fickle nature.  They love you until you offend.  Some for seemingly no reason, though I must think there is one, are out for your head from the moment they meet you.  You realize the shakiness of your position all the time (“castles stand, upon pillars of salt and pillars of sand”).  People desire to pour you into their ever changing mold (“a puppet on a lonely string”).  And if not for the call of God Himself, “who would ever want to be king?” (No a pastor is not a king).

Every pastor has moments where the pain of being the shepherd seems outrageously difficult.  Moments where if it weren’t for God’s call, he would certainly quit, walk away, and never look back.  Yet for all the resonance, even if the similarities are a stretch, I can’t imagine walking away.  The pressure is not nearly so heavy as the weight of God’s call (“Woe is me if I preach not the Gospel”).

Yes I probably overanalyzed and read more into it than was meant.  But maybe not.  You may not get that much out of the song, but if you like well-crafted, tight, catchy, sweeping rock then you will thoroughly enjoy “Viva La Vida,” (The song.  I enjoy the entire album as well).  I’ve probably listened to it 1,000 times in the past week!  That tells you maybe more about me than the song.

One of the harder aspects of ministry is dealing with loss. Seeing those that you’ve grown to love in fellowship over time move on to be with the Lord. People you’re used to seeing week after week. You know where they sit, who they ride with, you get to shake their hand, hug their neck, and greet them as they warmly greet you. The faithful who pass on are bittersweet losses. You know you’ll miss their presence. You half expect to see them sitting in their same familiar place, and see the same sweet smile come over their face. You know that nobody can replace losses like that. At the same time you know that when they opened their eyes in eternity, what they saw is something we only imagine. It’s glory and beauty that’s unspeakable. It’s communion with their savior, Jesus Christ. For that we hope even in sorrow. For that we can smile and cry at the very same time. Our church lost another beloved saint of God this morning in the passing of Lanese Jones. She was a staple at Little Mountain. At 93 years old she was faithful to be here more than men and women 3 times younger than she. And though she lived a long and fruitful life, we will miss her faithful presence here. She would be here early on Sunday morning, Sunday night if she could, and even Wednesday night we could almost always count on seeing her here with Ms. Crowe. She didn’t get around like a 30 year old, but you can’t match her kind of faithfulness. The longer I’m here, I find the more I miss those who move on. The funerals become harder even as I become more experienced at ministering at them. Part of the minister’s job is to minister at the time of death. Doing that means learning to accept the loss. Putting myself into their shoes, even though I’ve been blessed to have lost very few of my own family. So you grieve when they grieve. But at the same time you trust that “he who promised is faithful.” Faithful not to let a single child of His slip through the cracks. Those who trust in Him will close their eyes, but they will wake up in His presence. And one day we’ll meet again, and when we do I look forward to saying hello to Ms. Jones, and Claude Camp, and James Staggs, along with the others I barely knew that went before me. We accept loss because we know it’s not forever. We can learn to accept death because we know death has been defeated, even though it’ll still claim all of us if Jesus doesn’t come first. But we don’t commit ourselves to death, but to life. Into His hands, our spirit goes, and the faithful God who saved us will one day raise us. That will be a party I will not want to miss.

I read a very interesting quote today that got my mind racing in regards to personal criticism. It said, “To avoid criticism, do nothing, say nothing, be nothing.” Isn’t that the only way to avoid being criticized? Pastors are especially susceptible to criticism because of their visibility and responsibility. It will always be a heavy burden being a pastor by the very nature of the calling. But if you’re called by God, you cannot avoid criticism. The truth is, you shouldn’t even try. That sounds surprising, but there’s a liberating thought that always comforts me; “You can’t please everyone all the time.” A real pastor isn’t even in the business of pleasing. A real pastor is in the shepherding business. We get to experience with our people all the joys and happiness, and we rejoice in those times with our people. We pray for those times. We seek them out. But maybe more often we’re involved not in the joys and happiness, but in the darkness and heartache of our people. In those times we hurt with our people. We cry with them. We pray for them. We never seek them out, but we do our best to be there when they happen. Unfortunately sometimes we can’t. People think criticism of the pastor rolls off his back. That he’s somehow immune from the feelings normal people have. It’s a lie. It’s totally untrue. We hurt as bad as the next person, and take it just as personally. It’s just that God calls all Christians, including pastors to deal with criticism in a godly way. If it can’t be avoided it can be dealt with like Jesus would deal with it. You know He received His fair share of criticism too. I count it joy to receive anything that my Savior received. SO even though it hurts, pastors and Christians, press on. I preached on the Golden Rule last Sunday. One major point I made is that we treat others in 2 ways. 1) The way our loving God treats us. 2) The way we’d want others to treat us. That should happen regardless of how we feel, and regardless of how others treat us. It’s easier said than done, but I’ve got to eat the same thing I feed others. If you’re criticized frequently or even rarely, 1st ask yourself if the criticism is fair. If it is put pride aside and repent. If it’s not then deal with the criticizer in a Christ like way. Jesus loved even those who put Him to death. He calls us to do the same. God my prayer now and always is, “Let me treat others with Your love at all times, and so reflect glory on your precious name.”

It’s strange being a pastor. I guess it would be anywhere, but especially so in a smaller church where you have the opportunity to get to know the people on a much more intimate level. You hear about places in peoples’ lives that nobody else really gets to hear. All the darkest parts of man seem to have a way of coming out. You see the best and worst. When I said “Yes” to the church I’m pastoring now, I had some knowledge that I was called to be a “Doctor of Souls.” That’s expected and really even the hardest parts are not surprising. BUT, I had no idea I’d be getting a Med school education at the same time. I’ve learned more about the inner workings and broken pieces of humans, along with more than I really ever cared to know about surgical procedures since I’ve come here. In fact I’ve learned I can communicate intelligently with doctors about a good many things now. People expect me to know about what’s wrong with their body. Is it always pleasant? No. Does it and should it come with the territory? I believe yes. SO thank you God for letting me be a doctor!