When You Work for the Church

A version of this post first appeared on the Asian American Women on Leadership website as part of a series on Humility.

A new pastor in our city was asked to give the opening devotional at our local ministerial gathering. He had just received his first pastoral appointment, and started his remarks by describing the first time he walked into his office at the church. There was a large, impressive looking desk with a large, impressive looking chair. He sat at the desk and thought of his new responsibilities to lead the church. He imagined people coming to see him in his new office.

“I need to be careful to resist temptation,” he said to himself. “I need to remember that I am not God.”

I’m using quotation marks loosely here, because this took place a number of years ago, and I don’t remember the exact words. But I remember the meaning, and I remember being surprised. I appreciated his honesty and his awareness of the temptations he might face, but his experience was so different than mine. I couldn’t help but think to myself, “Maybe that’s a temptation for a young, white, male pastor who feels prepared for his role, but that’s not my experience in ministry.”

I had been called as the lead pastor of my church a few years earlier. I also had a large desk in my office. I also carried a lot of responsibility in my congregation. But the call to pastoral ministry had come to me suddenly and by surprise. I had not planned or prepared for it, and in many respects, I still felt as if I were feeling my way.

When a young girl in my congregation died suddenly of a brain aneurysm, when a man in his prime of life was found murdered, when a former missionary died at home after a long journey with cancer, my first response was “God, I don’t know what to do.” Clearly I was not God.

And I wasn’t tempted to play God either. I was too unsure of myself for that. What was I as a pastor to do? I didn’t know. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to be in those situations. I felt so uncertain, and I didn’t like feeling that way.

Yet perhaps that was the saving grace. For just as God carried and comforted each person and family in their time of great loss, God also graciously carried me as a pastor through that time, guiding me in what to say and when to hold silence, how to listen deeply to the people and to the Spirit.

I can’t say that I practiced humility in these situations, at least not in any conscious way. I felt more uncertain than anything else. But looking back and reflecting on my experience, it seems to me as if my uncertainty was actually a blessing—a blessing for the people I cared for and for myself as a pastor. For that uncertainty meant I could not rely on myself, and instead left room for the certain work of God.

Perhaps that’s one definition of humility—knowing our limitations and turning to God, letting God be God instead of relying on ourselves. As Proverbs 22:4 says, “Humility is the fear of the Lord.”