To the Discouraged Minister

“I don’t know how long I’ll be doing this.” 

“I spend so much time in the office, but I wish I could be out there in the trenches daily.”

“I’m just looking for the right fit, and I’m not sure I’ve found it yet.” 

These are some of the relatable sentiments I have heard from ministers as they reflect on their current work and on their broader calling. The words resonate clearly as I recall walking in my own fog of vocational vagueness. I felt the pull toward ministry muddled with the uncertainty of where to place a foothold. 

I believe vocational uncertainty is a shared experience among ministers, and it does not take us long to find common ground when we tell our stories. My path was certainly not clear cut. I began with the intentions of youth ministry, shifted to a hope of mission work, stepped into the pulpit, explored bi-vocational work, and discovered pastoral care. Interwoven throughout was a love of teaching. Each turn brought dead ends, epiphanies, lived-out purpose, and discouragements. 

Now, I do not want to smugly pretend that I have arrived. The “road goes ever on and on,” after all.[1] On the contrary, I believe giving ourselves permission to grow and change frees us from unnecessary pressure to get “this vocational thing” nailed down, as well as from the unfair judgment that we have somehow failed by stepping into different roles. I do, however, want to offer some encouragement to those who are serving week after week in our churches. 

I have had multiple conversations with ministers who are struggling with the limitations and frustrations of church work, so that they are looking beyond the church walls for something that better connects to their calling. Some look to non-profits, to teaching, to counseling, or to hospital chaplaincy. In my own life, I called the feeling leading to my decision the “growing discontentment.” For me, I believe it was God’s way of nudging me forward, but I do want to caution against equating frustration with a push from God. Sometimes it’s just good old irritation! Knowing the difference often takes discernment, openness, prayer, and a strong support group. If you are being led away from church ministry, may God bless the work that is ahead of you. However, if you are holding steady or still deciding, I want to offer four reasons that I value the church minister. 

1. The chance for immersion in community. 
   We have a saying in hospital chaplaincy that our ministry ends at the door. We can refer to community resources, but our professional boundary is to offer care and support to people in their times of hospitalization and to staff at their work. In other words, we are not going to give out our personal cell phone numbers or make house calls after discharge. A minister, however, is not bound by that threshold but rather provides care in multiple life contexts. It is worth pausing to consider how rare that opportunity is in our specialization-focused society. 
   

2. The opportunity to impact the full lifespan.
   When I worked in hospice, I naturally spent most of my ministry with the elderly (albeit with some exceptions). My work in hospitals involves the full family unit, but my patients are primarily adults. While I have worked with children, they are not my focus. A church minister, however, has a chance to step into all the milestones of life. For instance, my old youth minister was at my adoption ceremony and my baptism. My wife’s beloved late minister officiated her parents’ wedding as well as ours years later. Finally, the minister is often the one who is called first during the loss of a loved one. 
   

3. A theologically grounded voice. 
   This point may sound romanticized. I often asked myself after a sermon if I was making any difference. The democratization of power and information coupled with social media has surely shifted the balance of who gets airtime. Additionally, the secularization of Western society has reduced the public presence and influence of a minister. However, that does not mean that the minister is unnecessary or unheard. There is something special about a person who invests in study, training, preparation, prayer, and contextual listening. I believe faith communities benefit when they recognize and commission people in their gifts and calling. I will echo the sentiments of others: that in the information age we do not necessarily need more knowledgeable people but rather more people of depth.
   

4. An interdisciplinary voice. 
   “Interdisciplinary” is a prominent buzz word. The medical world has been exploring the bio-psyche-social model for some time. Leadership studies and organizations across sectors often rely on multiple fields (even neurology!). The pressing question is this: how can we become more interdisciplinary? I believe this approach is both healthy and hopeful. A minister is already a natural generalist and well-posed to navigate across disciplines. Additionally, ministers bring a needed and often missing theological component (notice the gap in the medical model).    

The church minister, in all their iterations, occupies a unique space. It is a difficult space inhabited by critique and pressure both from within the community and from without. However, perhaps the rockiness of the landscape is part of what makes it particularly valuable.