Voices: Let’s look at the pastoral life

Would you want your son or daughter to be a pastor?

Many pastors and seminary professors I know flinch at the thought, at least privately. I’ve never known that many persons, clergy or lay, who have a desire for their children to grow up to be pastors. Cowboys? Maybe. Pastors? Not so much.

My wife and I have one son who is a pastor. His journey in these early years of pastoral ministry has reinforced my sense he has been led into a magnificent calling. But it is not an easy life. It’s hard on so many levels.

I understand the reluctance parents have about a loved one entering pastoral ministry. For whatever reasons, my wife Sara and I were not among those parents.

We both grew up in homes in which pastors were revered. We both caught that reverence for pastors from our parents. Then we both answered a call to ministry in our teen years. Last year, I retired from 53 years of pastoral ministry, including full-time, part-time and interim service.

Sara had a calling before she met me. We have lived the pastoral life together, and beyond all the ups and downs, good days and bad, we relish God’s claim on our lives.

We can tell as many varied stories of the good days and rough times as most pastoral couples. But the magnificence of the pastoral life and the deep love we have for the people in our churches, and they us, resound to the depth of our being.

So, do I push back against the tendency to discourage your children and grandchildren to enter pastoral ministry? No. If your daughter or son is called to be a pastor, most will bypass your resistance to accept God’s claim on their lives to serve.

What I do push back against is the myth that the pastoral life is not to be desired. I say this, while acknowledging pastoral ministry is more difficult now than it has been in my lifetime.

Challenge of the pastorate

Most church members are aware of the effects of COVID on church life, political and cultural chaos, church conflict and denominational wars. And I haven’t even mentioned the pay. The list of current challenges confronting pastors goes on and on.

I also must acknowledge many pastors, including younger ones, are leaving congregational leadership at a rapidly increasing rate. Some, of course, are well-publicized cases of those who leave ministry due to moral or personal failure, which thankfully is a small percentage of ministers.

So, why speak well of pastoral ministry? I’ve been on a journey of carefully observing and studying the pastoral life for decades now, and my love and respect for pastors has only grown. My sense of the magnificence of this unique calling has not diminished.

Magnificence of the pastorate

Let me encourage you to look at your pastor. Just look at her or him and take note.

God personally sent that called individual to serve you and your church. In many cases, they entered years of some kind of training and education, some bringing a significant amount of educational debt along with them. They love you and your church. Most really do.

Even with their personal limitations, they bring gifts to serve and hearts that care for you. They are pastors.

When they step among you, officers of the royal court of our Lord Jesus Christ have stepped on deck.

They are in their places of service day by day, week by week, year by year. The ministry is relentless—weeks and weekends—and for most, 48 to 50 weeks a year. They serve on. To me, they are magnificent. Can’t you see it?

And pastors, join me in looking at this claim on our lives.

When we were set apart, the mantle fell on us to proclaim the good news of Jesus Christ. We took the baton to carry forward prophetic and apostolic roles.

When called to serve a church, we are privileged with the role of shepherd, serving under the Great Shepherd, stewarding the body of Christ entrusted to our care. It is an epic role, as we are entrusted with spiritual care of the precious lives entrusted to us.

The work of God’s kingdom and eternity are on the line, and we are stewarding the threshold to all God has for our sector of humankind.

Some of us may, in a season, downgrade the ministry and even default. We all are capable of such. We all are that vulnerable. Yet only by God’s claim and grace can we fulfill this formidable calling. He stands by his call. He restores us.

Going the distance

So, why did God choose someone so human, one who so often falls short, one who too often struggles under the burden, the stress, even the torment that falls on pastors? Why me? Why us?

I know the feelings that come with the recurring thought I might not be up to such a life. But then come the moments of re-commissioning, like the one Peter had at that breakfast on the beach with the risen Lord. And we serve on.

I have no criticism for those who have taken a season away from ministry. The pastoral life can be so hard, and hard on families. I stand in awe of any pastor who serves in that role for even one season of life.

Pastors, on the whole, are faithful and remarkably resilient. They go the distance because of God’s claim, his mantle and his anointing. Some have called it an “odd and wondrous calling,” to borrow the title of Lillian Daniel’s and Martin Copenhaver’s book. They are right. It is.

I’m the son of a coach. I heard my father say simply and in low tones to his exhausted players at moments in a game or in a season: “OK, men. Let’s get it done.”

I would have run through a wall for my father, as would his players. I will go the distance for my Lord Jesus. What other life would I choose but the one for which I am chosen? It’s a magnificent calling.

Ron Cook is retired from the faculty of Truett Theological Seminary at Baylor University. He also served as pastor and interim pastor in several churches. The views expressed in this opinion article are those of the author.