Voices: Ministry lessons I didn’t learn in seminary

I am grateful for my education at every level. If I were asked to list the most prominent influences in my life, I would list Jesus, my wife Debbie and the blessing of a broad education.

I graduated from Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary during its heyday. However, my seminary experience did not prepare me for the realities of rural ministry.

Unrealistic expectations

I left seminary with unrealistic expectations for myself. Professors encouraged us to translate Hebrew for two hours weekly to keep our skills sharp. We were told to give even more time to the translation of the Greek New Testament.

Young preachers were warned never to stand in the pulpit without an exhaustive exegesis of every text. Any moment not focused on studying was wasted.

In reflection, I think my professors meant well. What they did not realize was students were taking the advice of every professor and creating a composite image impossible to mimic.

It took me years to overcome the guilt that I was not living up to the expectations of a seminary-trained pastor. I later learned not every professor studied every waking moment. One passed away while mowing his lawn.

Rural vs. suburban

My seminary education prepared me to pastor a suburban church in a growing development. The needs of rural and downtown churches somehow were missed.

The demands of time and distance create unique challenges. In rural pastorates, one hospital visit requires a minimum of half a day. Urban hospital visits—with traffic, parking and walking—also require half a day.

Attending local sporting events is equally important to dropping by the nursing home. I could add other pastoral care and administration responsibilities to the list. Time is spread thin.

The most difficult seminary lesson to overcome was church growth expectations. The lesson was, “If a church was not numerically advancing, it was failing.”

That statement sounds true, but the reality is far more nuanced than a simple graph. Within that lesson was the implication growing churches require a constant stream of new construction.

In 1987, I spent a portion of a semester learning how to construct new buildings. I possess knowledge no one in Matador or Muleshoe has asked for. For instance, in 1987, creating a parking garage cost $11,000 per space.

Small town realities

Small towns do not have an endless supply of “prospects.” Most towns have faithful Methodists, Church of Christ, Pentecostals, Catholics, Disciples and Presbyterians supporting their churches. Every town and city has people who resist the Christian faith, and their numbers are growing across society.

Rural churches feel the impact of people on the move. New teachers come to town and, some years, join the church’s life. Some years, they don’t. Occasionally, new members numerically replace the church’s graduating seniors. Some years, they don’t. People tend to retire near their cardiologist.

First Baptist Church Muleshoe desires to be the body of Christ in the area we are serving. We hope to create a welcoming atmosphere with quality worship and a sense of community. We hope we are recognized as a pillar of Christian strength in the community.

If people come to First Baptist Muleshoe, they will not find a choir of 100 chorally trained singers, but a group of folks using their gifts to the best of their ability. They may not see various self-help ministries meeting at convenient times during the week, but we hope they find genuine believers engaged in one another’s lives.

They will find a church involved in local mission efforts assisting people with various needs, all in the name of Christ. Rural churches are places where your acts of service can have immediate and helpful impacts.

Quality relationships

One of the blessings of rural life is the quality of relationships developed over time. People raise families together, travel to sporting events, teach children’s Sunday school, organize meal trains and support one another when difficulties arise.

Acts of evangelism often are created when the church meets an immediate community need. Youth and children’s ministry are done best through shared experiences. They will find a text message concerning a ministry need sent to the deacons creates a swift response.

What the people taught me

My seminary experience taught me how to think theologically and gave me tools for interpreting God’s word responsibly, among many other things. But rural people and pastors taught me how to serve a church according to the rhythms of rural life.

E.A. Day was a deacon at First Baptist Church in Matador who taught me to trust the membership.

As I prepared to serve my first Lord’s Supper, E.A. said: “If you keep your mouth shut, we will teach you to serve the Lord’s Supper. We don’t need another new preacher telling us we don’t know what we are doing.”

I said, “Tell me where to stand.”

E.A. taught me not to steal acts of service from church members: “You preach. I will unlock the doors, make the coffee and clean the coffee urn. Don’t take my chores away.”

He taught me about the pain of divorce. The church has a choice of meeting that pain with judgment or grace. “Grace is better,” he said.

E.A.’s sense of investment enabled him to see the big picture. On one occasion, we served the Lord’s Supper on a weekend when one of our members was hosting a family reunion. We were blessed with a surprise Easter crowd.

Sitting on the platform, I counted noses and realized we were several cups of Welch’s grape juice short. Embarrassment was moments away.

As I passed the trays to the deacons, E.A. leaned forward and said, “There is an extra tray of juice sitting on the table in the hallway.”

He saw what needed to be done and did it.

Now that I think about it, I am unsure how you incorporate those nuggets of wisdom into a seminary curriculum. But I am grateful for people like E.A. Day who filled in the gaps.

Stacy Conner is pastor of First Baptist Church in Muleshoe. The views expressed in this opinion article are those of the author.