I have heard it said that the closest vocational parallels to pastoral ministry are that of a hospital administrator and a school principal.  This is primarily because schools and hospitals are usually run by a staff of paid employees and a group of volunteers.  Working with both adults and students, I visit both hospitals and schools frequently, so I can confidently say that while I see a few similarities, pastoral ministry is unlike anything else.  I recognize that the helpful woman at the hospital reception desk is most likely a volunteer or the man working the concession stand at the basketball game is part of the booster club, but not much is asked of them, the job is pretty self-explanatory, and the expectations are pretty low.

At the church I serve we estimate that it takes sixty people to “make a Sunday morning happen.”  This is everyone from the guy who unlocks the doors to the man who makes the coffee to those who teach and preach God’s Word.  Now, before you go and say something like, “Hey, I thought this was Average Church that sounds pretty big to me,” don’t worry.  We are not a large church.  It just takes a lot more man-power than most people ever realize to do many of the things that happen at a church.  For us, of our sixty people, only six of them are paid anything to do what they do.  Like you, we depend on volunteers and lay leaders.  Our “staffs” are made up of people with a limited amount of time, varying commitment levels, differing skills and abilities, and wide range of ideas about what success looks like.

All of this leads me to ask the question, “How do you set goals and have expectations when the majority of people working and serving alongside you are volunteers?”  In attempting to answer this question, I will break it into two categories.  First, we will discuss the kinds of expectations we should have for our volunteers and the goals we should set for them.  Secondly, we will see how those expectations and goals translate into ministry and the stewardship of the Gospel.

In this Issue:

The Role of the Senior Pastor in the Average Church

The “No-man’s” Land of the Associate Pastor

The Role of an Interim Pastor in the Average Church

A few years ago I met a man from our church for coffee. This man was critical of my leadership in our church and believed that if I took his advice our church would explode numerically. In the course of our conversation this man looked at me and said, “You are the most powerful man in our church.” That very week I was bombarded by fliers in the mail and some e-mails which also led me to believe that numerical success was just a program or starter kit away.

Because the average churches that I have served have not had a lot of “numerical explosion” I have spent hours grappling with the issue of my role. I have spent hours feeling guilty that my church wasn’t growing and moving into the kingdom of the large church. Aside from house churches, most churches in America own some property and have regular meetings scheduled. The very definition of the Greek word for church [ecclesia or called out ones], implies that there are some people in this group. If you are the pastor of any church you face the reality of people and property.

As we find ourselves in this information age we also face the reality of expectations. The numerical success stories of churches in every state of these United States are well known. In my state of Colorado it seems that several large churches started a few years ago as a Bible study in somebody’s basement. The very strong unspoken message that is communicated through these stories to the average church and average church pastor is this: “What is wrong with you?” If Bible studies in basements result in churches numbering in the thousands, why isn’t this church larger numerically?

I was really busy for three years.  At least I thought I was.  For three years I served as a pastor to students while attending seminary full-time.  I tried to fulfill each of my roles to the best of my ability, but inevitably I fell short.  Seminary do-dates came quicker than I anticipated and I would forget about certain responsibilities in ministry.  Looking back on those years, I praise God for His faithfulness in giving me grace everyday.  I did not deserve the success He gave me in school or ministry.

When I graduated from seminary, I was convinced that full-time, unhindered ministry would help me to become a more complete pastor.  I was wrong.  The church I serve has a modest-sized Sunday morning attendance, three pastors (including myself), and the program offerings of a church three times our size.  If you serve at this type of church, I’m sure you’ll agree with what I am about to say.  When you work in an average church, you do a little bit of everything. Technically, my title starts with the words Associate Pastor, but sometimes sandwich artist, amateur graphic designer, or custodian may better describe my day.  Before becoming an Associate Pastor I had no idea what their role was or what their job entailed.  After becoming one, I still don’t.

The job of Associate Pastor is kind of a “no-man’s land.”  Every day is a little different.  Some projects or ministries are broad and continue on indefinitely, others are temporary and have a very specific focus.  Most Associate Pastors I know juggle so many balls and wear so many hats they can rarely keep them all straight.  I want to be careful here.  I don’t want it to sound as though I am unhappy or ungrateful in my current position.  I love my role as an Associate Pastor.  I feel it is what God has called me to and what He gives me grace for.  Because of those truths, I have spent the last several months pondering, studying, and praying about what the role of the Associate Pastor should be and how I can best fill it at my church for the glory of God.

They work at Taco Bell.  They shop at Kmart.  They drive luxury SUVs and glide to the notes of Alan Jackson’s Precious Memories.  They never forget the coffee, but sometimes forget their Bibles.  Once a week they shake hands with genuine affection and love.  They raise thankful voices in worship to their God and Friend.  Joyfully they offer their hard earned money.  They highlight the inconsistency of the building’s temperature and celebrate the beauty of their ecclesiastic tradition.  They embrace those whom some refuse to touch.  With incredible resilience they shovel the side walk, replace light bulbs, paint and repaint walls, rewire burned out fuses, and fix broken toilets.  They call me pastor.

For me there is no greater privilege than that of being called pastor.  Great is the responsibility and difficulty of a life that is lived under this title, but greater is the extreme honor to be trusted as a minister.  To be sure, when one is called Christian there could be no more scandalous association.  Identification with the incarnate Word is a humbling beauty.  Therefore, to be commissioned to preach and teach God’s people through his Word, is truly another level–perhaps even a double honor (1 Timothy 5:17). What a beautiful burden of blessing that has graced my life in the form of being called pastor.

My role as pastor of an average church has seen me through a number of divergent seasons.  Originally I was hired to pastor the youth.  Since that initial appointment I have been called upon to expand my job description a number of times–from youth pastor to associate pastor to interim pastor.  But they have always called me pastor.  In many ways my role has remained consistent though my specific title and responsibilities have changed as much as Dennis Rodman’s hair.  General purpose is never mitigated by specific divergence.