There is something inherently good about work – especially physical labor. God created work as part of his perfect environment for Adam. And it was very good. But Adam sinned and so came sweat, sore muscles, myriad aches and pains, and a general aversion to hard work because of the consequences thereof. Yet there is something inherently good about work. For most of my life I have performed work that produced a different sort of sweat, sore muscles, and myriad aches and pains. Working with one’s mind in many ways is “easier” than working with one’s hands. For example, after a hard day’s work with the mind, one can play a game of basketball and feel refreshed, energetic. After a hard day’s work with the hands, one needs sleep to feel refreshed. I have never bruised my leg or smashed a thumbnail while thinking through a problem. However, in many ways working with one’s mind is more difficult than working with one’s hands. For example, it is unlikely that one will begin building sandcastles while digging ditches. While sitting in an office in near silence it is quite easy to become distracted and think of things other than work. At the end of the day a farmer can see how many rows he has plowed. It is rather difficult to quantify how many problems were solved or ideas were formed by the end of the day.
When I learned I was going to be a Pastoral Intern I was ecstatic. I had trouble sleeping for a week. I had not been that giddy since my wedding day. I had been longing for work that was significant and meaningful. Writing another loan to help someone refinance or even purchase a home – while important – probably would not significantly change someone’s life. I finally had the opportunity to earn a living while doing meaningful work, work with eternal significance.
Generally when one thinks of pastoral work images of the other kind of work do not come to mind. Sweat. Bruises. Sore muscles. My first three weeks as a Pastoral Intern were filled with these things. Part of it may simply be from not having worked (either kind) for four months. A large part of it is from not having done extensive manual labor (beyond yard work) for almost fifteen years.
In college I read of the Puritan understanding of work. They believed that every calling is a holy calling, whether plowing a field or preaching a sermon. I have long believed this to be true, but this belief was more theoretical in nature. I believe that I can honor and glorify the Lord by writing loans for a living – intellectually.
Having spent three weeks stacking and unstacking chairs, moving tables, vacuuming pews, cleaning toilets, and taking out the trash, I think I have a much better understanding of what it means to serve God in a holy calling. The Sunday after I vacuumed the auditorium I walked in with a very strong recognition that those who were sitting in the pews had little knowledge of what it had taken to prepare the facility for the church to gather that morning. They did not need to think of it on Sunday morning. (This is not to say they should not be grateful, rather, the facility was not a distraction to their worship of God.) When they stopped by the restrooms it probably did not occur to them that someone had cleaned that restroom, perhaps several times that week. They did not have to think about it.
It seems to me that true ministry is engaging in any activity that assists someone else in worship. Whether someone actually worships the Lord because of a clean toilet seat is not the issue. That issue is between the person and God. The issue is if one is helping another find a parking spot, or handing out a bulletin, or preaching a sermon, or emptying the trash, and if the task is facilitating worship of our great God, ministry is taking place. Paul seems to indicate this when he told the Philippians that even if Christ is preached out of wrong motives, we can rejoice that Christ is preached. The act of preaching in this case was assisting others in worshiping God. If preaching Christ out of a wrong motivation is something to rejoice in, how much more the act of cleaning a building done out of a right motive! I am very grateful for the privilege to be part of ministry at Calvary by setting up chairs for children so they can hear the good news that is Jesus. I am blessed to have had the opportunity to take out the trash so that our pastor can spend his time studying and praying.
This opportunity has been very enlightening for church planting. Calvary is a large church with many people dedicated to specific tasks in the work of the ministry. Our pastoral staff does not need to be concerned with the readiness of our building for the church to meet together on Sunday. There are many wonderful and godly people who handle this. When we launch our new plant, I know of at least one person who will be available to set up chairs: me. I know of one person who will be available to clean up after the service or fill the communion cups or make sure the lights are off and the doors are locked. I am sure there will be others but I am certain of this one person’s availability. In some ways this frightens me, if only because it well illustrates the enormity of my calling. Paul wondered who is sufficient for the burden of preaching the Gospel – being the odor of death to the dying and the odor of life to the living. Not only will I be exhausted from the emotional and intellectual and spiritual burden of the work God called me to, but I will be physically exhausted as well. I read recently that a church planter should never do something that someone else can do. For example, a church planter should not set up chairs when another person can (and should) do it. This is clearly not because the planter is above such a thing. Rather, the planter is called to do other things and CANNOT do all things. The church is called to act as a body, doing the work of the ministry as a body. It has become incredibly clear to me that I cannot plant a church on my own. The importance of recruiting fellow laborers has been stamped on my mind with large, bold print.
Indeed, who is sufficient for these things? I am not, but he who has overcome death is more than sufficient.
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