I Loved Being A Pastor

     Okay, I'll admit it.  I loved being a pastor.  For twenty-eight years at five different churches, I was the senior pastor; and I loved everything about it. More than once, I was told by Ministers of Music that I should march into the sanctuary with the choir instead of being out there shaking hands and visiting briefly with members already seated in the pews. Many pastors try to avoid hospital visits or nursing home worship services, but I looked forward to those times. I loved the beauty of weddings and the hope through grief of funerals. Put it down; I thoroughly enjoyed being a pastor.

     Several years ago, I was asked to preach at the very influential Morning Star Baptist Church in Cleveland, Ohio, a predominantly African-American congregation. Dr Earl Preston was their noble pastor. After the service, I asked one of the men why he so obviously loved the pastor. He responded that several years earlier, as a young man not yet living for God, he and some of his friends were stranded on a cold wintry night when their car had broken down. They didn't know what to do. His godly aunt had told him that if he ever got into a real problem with no where to turn, he should call Pastor Preston, so that's what he did. He said Dr Preston could have sent someone to assist them, but he came himself. He continued by saying that Dr Preston took them to the finest hotel in Cleveland and paid for their rooms. They tried to persuade Dr Preston 

that a cheap hotel would be more than they deserved to which he replied, "Young men, God set this meeting up between us tonight, and God wouldn't keep you in a dump so I won't either." This church member concluded by saying that Dr Preston had a big heart that reached every member of the church individually and the unsaved outside the church too. That, dear friend, is a real pastor.

     As I write this, it is near midnight. It's also near midnight for many people in their personal lives as they struggle through day after weary day of dark despair. A kind word, a hug or a sympathetic ear by a pastor can brighten their days. I am now a seminary president, but of late I have been pondering in my heart and soul the possibility of starting a church that I could pastor.....a place to love the unlovely, to embrace the lonely, to give hope to the fear-stricken. I have always had the dream of preaching verse-by-verse through the Bible which according to my estimates could be done in eleven years although my original plan called for seventeen years. That would be a veritable fountain for the huge reservoir of Bible truth I carry in my heart.

     I try to tell the pastors who are being educated at Trinity that three  things are 

basics for a pastor's ministry.  First, he must trust the Bible completely and preach each sermon after spending time alone with God until the message burns in his heart. Forget the one-liner jokes, avoid the melodramatic stories, but instead allow the Holy Spirit to speak what God wants said exactly the way God wants it said. Second, love your people by getting to know them and being there when they need you. Third, and most important, love Jesus....really love Jesus. 

     In summary, our churches and various denominations have plenty of preachers, but the desperate need of the hour and the aching hearts of hundreds of thousands of church members is for someone to whom they can share their burdens one-on-one and not from a distant seat in a sanctuary, but someone they can, as a result of his warm personal presence in their lives, say about him, "He's MY pastor."