I remember long ago the feelings I had when I considered the work of religious people, especially within the church walls.
My thoughts were what is it like to “work” for a church? It seemed a veil of mystery surrounded the vocation. How did one get employed by a congregation? Who decided? Where does one begin?
To be sure, I had zero pedigree. My dad was not a pastor, my grandfather not a pastor and so forth. My family, a middle-class demographic living in a soon-to-be post Christian era, never attended church together. I was sent on Sundays to Sunday School, but other than that, zip.
There probably existed a mechanism for aspiring young people to be groomed for ministry, but as was likely the case, my mentors saw little evidence of piety in me and for good reason.
When I began to deeply consider the evidence for Christianity in my early twenties, a natural progression ensued and here I am today.
All of this is to say that you, too, may be wondering how a person gets the privilege of serving in the local church if you are inclined to do so.
So, let me tell you a story.
After some general introductions to ministry such as singing in the choir, leading a children’s choir program, I was asked by a local pastor if I would be willing to be their small church’s music man.
I was paid $100 a week and was charged with everything related to music and worship in this 100-member church.
That was the beginning.
One Saturday, the pastor had hurt his back at a church workday and asked me to lead in worship, receive the offering, and dismiss the congregation.
I told him I thought I could teach a short lesson as well. As he grimaced in pain, he said, “Fine,” and left me to my own device.
I stayed up until midnight with my wife crafting the best teaching I could muster. I even recall the title, “Flying Our Flags,” which had the idea of maritime ships that would signal their allegiances.
Anyway, after the service a sweet little old lady asked me if I had surrendered “the call”.
Having no idea what she meant, I politely said, “Yes,” and we went our separate ways.
Turning to my beloved, dyed-in-the-wool Baptist wife, I said, “What on earth did she mean?”
The “call,” of course, meant a spiritual calling to ministry as a vocation. (News to me.)
Why do I share this story?
Because you may be like me today. You may not feel worthy to serve. You may feel inadequate. Heck, you are probably not ready just as I was not ready. But you may be called.
It has been over 35 years since those fateful days and yet here I am today.
Whether you know it or not, maybe you are being called to vocational ministry.
Listen to that calling.
Kent Simmons is the pastor of Canyon Community Church in Kingman, AZ.
