1 of 6
Risking Lay Ministry
An essential step in preparing people to minister is to encourage them to be willing to take big risks.
1 of 6
Every pastor I know affirms the priesthood of all believers and that every Christian is called to ministry, including the one of providing pastoral care for one another. But most also admit there's a big gap between the actual and desired level of lay ministry. One reason for this, I believe, is that releasing people to minister involves risks, both for pastor and people. For the pastor, it means giving up control, shedding the "I can handle it" image. For lay people, it means taking on responsibilities bigger than they've ever imagined, tackling situations in which they might not have all the answers, providing pastoral care when they seem to have few resources. And that's scary. I once had the chance to ask the Swiss physician Paul Tournier, "How do you help your patients get rid of their fears?" "I don't," he said. "Everything that's worthwhile in life is scary. Choosing a school, choosing a career, getting married, having kids—all those things are scary. If it is not fearful, it is not worthwhile." As I mentioned earlier, it's vital to get lay people involved in ministry because, among other reasons, it's the most effective way to give pastoral care to the congregation and community. But to get more lay people into ministry, we'll have to take some risks—and help our people to do the same. In fact, during my years of ministry, I've discovered four principles that help me do that wisely and effectively. Stepping Off the PedestalIf lay people are going to minister, they have to see their leaders in ministry situations—both on the giving end and the receiving end. My natural inclination is to "do unto others" but discourage people from "doing unto me," because I'd rather not feel indebted. I have to resist the desire to look competent and secure at all times. Sometimes the desire to seem self-sufficient is my own, but sometimes other people want me to live up to that image. Either way, if lay people are going to minister effectively, I must resist being conformed to that image. Sometimes after a Sunday sermon, someone will say, "That was a challenging message." I'll say, "But how do we apply that? What I said is true, and I believe it, but I'm not sure how to live it out. You've got to help me." The final application of a sermon rests on me as well as on the congregation. Throughout the Gospels, Jesus seems to find ways to use his own needs to bless people. To Zacchaeus he said, "Can you feed thirteen guys at your house? We're hungry." Zacchaeus was eager to oblige, and his life was changed by that lunch. To an outcast woman at a well Jesus said, "Can you get me a drink? I don't have a cup." The night before his trial and crucifixion, he asked three friends to keep him company. He said, "I'm scared. Come pray with me." That's our example. One Sunday afternoon at my last church, I was reading the paper, when suddenly my brain felt as if it was being stabbed by a dozen ice picks. With the help of some toothache medicine, I managed to make it through the night. The next day the doctor gave me the diagnosis—shingles—and $125 worth of prescriptions. |             | |||||||||||||||||||
share this page
