The Heart of the Matter

"For as the body is one and has many parts, and all the parts of that body, though many, are one body- so also is Christ." 1 Corinthians 12:12

As church leaders, we can often find ourselves thrilled beyond words when we hear about a church member's hidden or unknown talents. Knowledge of a hidden musical talent or previous teaching experience conjures up visions of new ministry ideas. We thank God for the gift he has provided us. We can even be so bold as to approach folks, telling them of the great places we seeing them serve and how great an addition they will be to the ministry efforts of the church. After all, most folks just need a little encouragement. Or do they?

I have the experience of serving at my church in a variety of roles over the last six years. My first position at the church was as church organist. For those of you that don't know, I am a professionally trained musician and for many of my teen and young adult years I was known as such. For all those years, my life revolved around music. But as the years rolled along, it became less practical and a smaller and smaller part of my life. As a result, I allowed the gift that God had blessed me with to deteriorate and become a relic of my past. Imagine my surprise when I was approached all those years later by a member of the church who told me that I would be a wonderful addition to the Music Ministry in our church. Over the next couple of months, the nudging became a little more energetic and I ultimately agreed to take position. After all, I'd be serving the church and doing my part for the ministry. I was reliable and was there every Sunday, faithfully playing away. I took on additional responsibilities in the church, and before too long I was involved in number of different ministries, many of these positions I was approached about because of the "great fit" I would be. From the outside, I appeared to be an energetic and faithful servant of the church. It's too bad that the inside had a different look.

Over time, the music became a chore. My gift had declined to the point that I was embarrassed by what I was not able to do anymore, despite the many compliments I received about my work. But I persevered, because I figured that at some point God would step in and show me the way to fulfillment. So I played, and played, and played, and played… The one thing that had once represented the single biggest joy in life had turned into my biggest discouragement. I kept plugging along because I was now engrained in the ministry and it had become an obligation to me. Instead of relishing the thought of playing the next hymn, I was looking at the bulletin and calculating how much longer I had until my service was done for the day. Toward the end, I was finding that I wasn't feeling "well" enough to make it to church some Sundays. I started making excuses to avoid projects and committees- too much work, the need for family time, just too tired after a busy week, etc. For those of you familiar with the symptoms, its true- I was burning out. Unfortunately, I was oblivious to the signs for months and just plodded along. By the time I saw what was going on, it was too late.

Many times, we find ourselves in a position where the tasks being performed are mundane, unchallenging and personally unrewarding. For many people, you have to look no farther than their job or career to find this pattern. Many people look at their job as nothing more than a paycheck to survive on. They may demonstrate some level of enthusiasm at work and do everything asked of them. However, if asked outside the workplace they willingly admit that the job holds little joy and that there is no sense of true accomplishment. It is just a part of the routine, because their heart is not in it.

My problem was that I allowed this attitude to extend to my faith. Because my heart was never in it, I allowed myself to make it mundane and routine. My "paycheck" was the misguided notion that I was honoring God by simply serving in His church. As I said, all outward signs would indicate that I was a joyful servant. The truth is that I was rotting a little bit on the inside, because my service had become an unrewarding burden that outweighed any spiritual joy I was experiencing. I started to drift away from my church.

After we lost my wife's dad to cancer late last year, we found ourselves dealing with a spiritual unsettledness. We felt it was big enough to merit a voyage to find a new church. Our hope was that we would be able to rekindle the fire and reconnect with God. The discussion between my wife and I became the focal point of our conversations over a few nights. We prayerfully considered our options and decided to go church shopping. We let our pastor know our decision and that it had nothing to do with the church itself. We were not angry or discouraged about any element of the church or its family. We felt God leading on this journey and we were bound to take it. And within an hour of leaving the church that evening, we realized that we had made a huge mistake. That was our church and God had placed us there for a reason. We just hadn't figured out what that reason was.

Despite knowing that we would end up back at our original church, we elected to go on the journey anyway. We hoped to prove that we were moving in the wrong direction. We knew that we would have the very same doubts six months down the road if we didn't make the trip. More importantly for me, I was looking forward to going to a church where I could just sit and worship, a church where there was no pressure to serve. My burnout had progressed to the point where I was convinced that I would never serve in a church again. I wanted to know what that felt like.

If I were to end the story here, it would be a sad and depressing story of a man who lost his way and that was so disillusioned with church that he would be ineffective at best. But I can't end it here, because God is involved and He was far from done with me.

After a seven week sabbatical, we made the decision to rejoin our church family. Unbeknownst to everyone but me, I had been praying. I was asking God to show me what a truly effective service life for me would consist of. Through those prayers, I found myself going back to the same point- service for the sake of service was not what God commands us to do. I had to search my heart to find those special gifts that God was telling me to use. There was no way that I could go back and not serve. I simply knew that my service life would have to change if I were to truly glorify God.

About a week before our return, I eagerly emailed our Pastor, Associate Pastor and Chairman of Deacons to let them know that we would be back. The email outlined many of the blessings we had rediscovered about our church and that we were so excited to get back. I went on and on about how God had blessed us with a wonderful church that we were crazy to leave in the first place. But then the tone changed a little as I went on to describe the lessons I had learned about serving in the church. I told them all that I was eager to jump back in and start serving again, but that my service would have to look a lot different than it had previously. In order to glorify God, I had to do a better job of choosing the ministries I would serve in. While I never mentioned it in the email, I had already decided to resign from my role as organist and focus my energy on the Sunday School ministry, which I had lead for a number of years. True discipleship was the ministry that God was leading me to.

And so on that following Sunday, my wife and I made our return. There were many hugs and "welcome backs" and life was good. We knew we were home and nothing was going to tear us away from our church. We comfortably settled back into our routine. Part of that routine for me includes showing up at the church on Wednesday nights. We have strong children's ministries on Wednesdays, but not a lot of adult participation. As a result, Wednesday evenings had become a time for my pastor and I to talk about the many things going on at the church- not a gossip session, but more of a brainstorming session to tackle problems, celebrate blessings and expand the role of the church in the community. On this night, Pastor took the time to catch me up on the things that had transpired in our absence and I took the time to tell him of the fire that had rekindled in my soul. And we both ended up catching each other off guard in the process.

As we were talking, he told me that there was need to name a new Sunday School Director (my old role) to address some issues that had come up while we were gone. The reasons he laid out for me made perfect sense and the person he had put in place was an outstanding selection. I felt like I had been punched in the gut, because I had really come to the conclusion that it was the one area of the church where I could serve and lead with my heart. My pastor then went on to ask me where I wanted to serve and that he was sure that the Music Ministry was one of those areas. Imagine his surprise when I told him that that was the one ministry that I knew I would be putting aside. I explained that it had become an obligation instead of service from the heart. And while he understood what I was saying, I could see that it was the one answer he was not expecting from me. Without explaining that he had pulled the carpet out from under me by replacing me in the Sunday School ministry, I told him that I needed more time to figure out where God was leading me to serve.

A week later, we sat down and a discussion began. We had both been praying about where I would fit in. Pastor started by laying out a vision for me that had come to him, one where I would not lead Sunday School, but all of the discipleship ministries in the church. I would become not a dictator of methodology, but a central clearinghouse to assist the many talented ministry leaders with their discipleship programs. As he spoke, the smile on my face grew bigger and bigger. It wasn't a case of approving of the expanded role of my position. The words coming out of his mouth went directly from my ears to my heart. You see, a few years ago I had a pipedream of where my service could eventually lead in the church. As I sat there listening to my pastor speak, I was hearing that dream being vocalized for the first time. And for the first time a long, long time I was excited.

Here I sit four months later, putting all of this on the computer. I have been serving as Discipleship Director during that time and the experience has been so rewarding. My time commitment to the church has expanded by a factor of three, and yet I find myself energized and eager to do even more. The balance of work, family and faith is better than it has been at any point in my life. I have people coming to me almost every Sunday morning with ideas and plans to expand the ministry efforts of the church. In short, I'm living the dream and loving it.

Most of the lessons learned here are pretty obvious. My newfound excitement comes from serving from the heart, instead of trying to please people. I am putting skills to use that God intended me to use in service to Him. As a church leader, the lessons are even more profound. While I continue to let people know of our ministry needs, I do it to see if interests exist, not to create the interest. I never tell someone how well they would fit a particular role in the church. I pray for individuals to serve, but my prayers are for God to put a ministry on their heart instead of praying for them to serve in a particular role.

As the church transforms itself into the 21^st century church, we need to pay great attention to these lessons. We need to equip ourselves with people who are serving from the heart. The church gives God more glory by doing without ministries than offering a multitude of programs that are staffed with people who are doing it out of obligation. And as we go out to minister to the world, the enthusiasm that comes from true service will always be more appealing than a bunch of programs run by robots. We have to get out of the way and let God staff our ministries.