Finish. Period.

The research about ministerial tenure and longevity by a number of reputable organizations varies only slightly. Each one does the background work, conducts the surveys, and reports their angle on the findings to support their specific mission. The slight variation in reporting the data may simply be the result of denominational differences, how the information is gathered, or the usual interpretation nuances defined by the objectives of the reporter. Yet, even with several interpretive versions, the minimums are alarming. Underneath the numbers is reality: people abandon His call daily.

There’s more. The physical, emotional, and spiritual pressures of ministry may be the central reason for spiking family dysfunction, divorce, and even suicide among ministers. Once again, the actual numbers of these tragic realities are somewhat vague, hidden behind a cloud of shame that seeks to obscure the horror of such things. Still, we all know real-time situations where friends and colleagues have suffered the train wreck of personal and family destruction as a result of their ministry service. To know of even one is enough to rivet our attention onto something redemptive.

And, it’s not just numbers and facts. The truth about ministerial tenure is also very personal. In the past three years several pastor friends have committed suicide. The suicide deaths of high-profile ministers children in recent years echoes the pathos surrounding all these numbers. Beyond those extremes, many more have taken new directions in life. One colleague is selling used cars, several others are trying to pick up the pieces of broken marriages, and even more are dealing with the subsidiary wreckage ministry causes in their families. There’s an unverified report that South Carolina leads the nation in pastoral terminations, attempted suicides, and other shocking realities of the times. That such things are even on the grapevine is troubling. They do remind us that we all know someone struggling in ministry. It’s not a distant problem, but one that’s close, maybe in our own home.

My personal concern and interest in the dynamics of ministry is long-standing. It is beyond my understanding and certainly nothing I could have engineered, but somewhere in this dark heart of mine is a chamber especially attuned to fellow ministers or people struggling either with a call to ministry or in some trouble area of service. Perhaps being a late bloomer myself has given me a special portal into the mysteries of what we refer to as “the call” and the unique problems so particular to church service. In each of my four pastorates there have been numerous individuals who have answered that call and are serving Christ today.

From another angle, my particular bent in this direction has been further validated by the number of ordained individuals who were members of these congregations but not actively serving in church positions at the time. They were social workers, hospital chaplains, college administrators, schoolteachers, or employees of non-profit organizations. They obviously needed the loving care of a church family and the guiding heart of someone attuned to their circumstances.

Even more, when my hair achieved its current state of grayness, I noticed an increase in the time spent mentoring, coaching, or counseling fellow ministers. When I accepted the position of Director of Pastoral Ministries for the South Carolina Baptist Convention a few years back, it wasn’t a surprise to most people that knew me well. Being a pastor’s pastor seemed a natural avocation, a fulfilling and much appreciated use of my limited talents. In that role for nearly three years, I was confronted daily with the harsh realities of congregational life and some ugly truth about pastoral ministry. Looking back I can recall endless days spent huddled with a family experiencing the catastrophic weight of ministry failure. My personal learning curve was steepest in those years.

Now, as a recent retiree, there’s some predictable reflection on the lessons of ministry and, more pointedly, the longevity and endurance granted me in serving four great congregations. Glancing back I can see some things that weren’t as visible as when I was moving forward at the speed of life today. Suddenly, I have realized the significance of the character building He was doing in me, the traits He was shaping or pounding into my life, and the five very clear and definitive steps that gave me impetus for church ministry over three plus decades. Theses pages aren’t a potion or incantation or pill that will suddenly curb the exodus from Kingdom service that marks these times. We all know there are no simple or easy answers to the many dilemmas of serving Him in such complicated and weird times. My prayer is that maybe one struggling pastor or church staff minister will read these reflections and take a second look before walking away.

The churches I pastored were never listed among the most influential in the nation. We didn’t have multiple campuses, a weekly television program, and were not featured in any of the books about turnaround churches. Each was a revitalization setting of sorts, a context requiring vision and change, and a good bit of steadfastness. All four of them were similar in that they had enormous future potential that would demand paradigm shifts of one type or another. Mostly, they were in rapidly changing communities. And, you know what that means—strong leadership, long hours, constant vision casting, leader multiplication, and hard work.

Early on, He taught me two important lessons about ministry. One involved my first impressions about serving Christ in pastoral ministry. Like most of us, mine were shaped by stereotypical data and personal prejudices. You know, the stuff we all hear from time to time about working one day a week, doing Saturday night specials throughout our career, and the sweet images of a shepherd leading the sheep by the still waters into the green pastures. The pastoral profile etched in my mind was my grandfather embracing people at the door every Sunday, receiving accolades from the congregation about the morning message, performing weddings, the ordinances of the church, and praying over people. Or, just as formatively, my ideas about pastoral or church staff service was a composite of the ministers who served in our family congregations over the years. Only later did I realize what a distorted picture it was, comprised of the highly visible snapshots of congregational life, and little of the behind the scenes reality that is so destructive today.