Voices: The pastoral life: It can be life-giving

Pastors could write novels. Every pastor has a rich convergence of characters, episodes, and actual dramas, enough for more than one realistic novel. The anecdotes we tell when we get together go from hilarious, to riveting, to preposterous. Most of them are true.

The people and experiences make for quite a life. I could say it is multifarious, fascinating, chaotic, exasperating, mind-blowing, mind-expanding, life-threatening, and more. But it also can be life-giving and generative.

Now, the pastoral journey that leads us across the fault lines of fallen humanity can put a pastor on the sidelines or force him into full retreat. Human systems, even in churches, are among the great tests of a person’s character and faith. Any pastor can be soon overwhelmed.

I wonder if we are adequately preparing pastors in early ministry for the life into which they are about to plunge.

The wholeness of the pastoral life

But the convergence of such forces and systems can create a milieu for an enriching and fascinating life.

When a pastor becomes whole and not broken or in retreat—fulfilling God-given gifts, abilities and capacities—she can adventure into a flourishing and fruitful life.

In the pastoral life, we are cast into a deeper engagement with God and pushed out to find persons and resources who can help us. One who stays with the adventure and faithfully responds to this providential dynamic can become whole as a person and as a pastor.

Now, the excessive demands, pressures, and the regular crises are not in themselves life-giving. They can be devastating and career-killing, especially early in ministry or in one of those seasons of exhaustion. Such experiences don’t give life; they take it. You can be chewed up and spit out.

The crises of ministry do not of themselves trigger a redemptive centripetal reaction, bringing triage and restoration to the battered soul. Our collective fallenness has nullified those implicit Edenic graces.

But, by God’s tenacious providence and grace, they do create a centrifugal force on us. They don’t draw us, they push us. Such forces knock us to our knees and can send us running for help. And therein is the mystery of how pastors, putting themselves under the mighty hand of God (1 Peter 5: 6-7) are refined, restored, and find the help to grow and thrive.

Get in the boat

So, when a pastor is thrown beyond calm and evident rescue into stormy and battering waves, there is only one first move. Get in the boat. Jesus is there (Luke 8: 22-25).

I’ve experienced remarkable, even miraculous, protection and provision amid the storms. The personal centering and re-grounding that comes through God’s word, and the protection and calming of the Holy Spirit, shore the personal foundations, calm the spirit and settle the mind. (Psalm 46:1).

But living in the word of God and in his presence does not hold us in a retreat from trouble or even evil (John 17: 15-16). Our refuge in God does not allow for a bunkered life, secluded from all trouble. The same Holy Spirit that calms and restores us pushes us back out into the fray.

If the life of Jesus is our paradigm for moving through the storms of life, we learn that when we retreat to God, we do not get decommissioned. In fact, we get recommissioned. We get pushed back out into the pandemonium that drove us to him, settled and strengthened for the next phase. In my experience the pastoral life is never calm for long.

Learning from experts

One lesson I didn’t learn soon enough was when I got pushed back out I could find value-added benefit to my new sense of vulnerability. When I realized I needed all the help I could get, I sought it. One of my first turns was to specialists—those who had insight into personalities, predicaments, and problems of all kinds.

I have sought out physicians—especially psychiatrists—psychologists, attorneys, judges, Texas Rangers, FBI agents, pharmacists, elementary teachers, substance abuse counselors, dog catchers, bankers, builders, architects, game wardens, and even a taxidermist.

These specialists and others led to a treasury of life and professional experience. In doing so, my understanding and insight into the human predicament and pastoral challenges became much more profound.

As I have pondered over preaching and pastoral dilemmas, I have sought help in a variety of resources—books, articles, lectures, all kinds of research, documentaries, podcasts, and a variety of media resources.

I have sorted through a myriad of thoughts, proposals, research findings, and even hair-brained ideas. This adventure has yielded insights, along with an occasional mix of nonsense. Some results have turned up empty, but so often the gain was profound for preaching and pastoring.

Learning from the people around us

And there are the people walking alongside us in life and ministry. Along with our mentors, we need to realize there is much help available in those walking beside us.

I learned early, there were some wise and insightful people on the journey with me. Some of my best mentors were partners on the journey—women and men who had experience and perspectives I would never gain on my own.

We walk among sinners who can wound and exasperate us, but we also journey with saints who bring depth, wisdom, and perspective to our lives.

The pastoral life under the guiding hand of God can be driven by a centrifugal force, casting us into God’s presence and pushing us out to find help. It can be an adventurous and generative life. I have the testimony and the stories to prove it.

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.