Entering today…
Only 12 hitters had ever hit 3 homers in a postseason game.
Only 26 pitchers had ever recorded 10+ strikeouts, 2 or less hits and no runs in a postseason start.
Shohei Ohtani just did both in the same game.
I’ve heard plenty of pastors I respect say, “If you can do anything else besides ministry, do it. Only pursue ministry if it’s the one thing you can’t live without.” Hogwash. I’d flip that around: if you can’t hold down a normal job and find contentment in ordinary work, you’re probably not fit to be a pastor.
I don’t have to be a pastor. I’ve wanted it, but it’s never been such a burning desire that I couldn’t enjoy doing something else. Truth is, I like writing and business. Most of my adult life has been in sales, collections, and training—roles that taught me a kind of craftsmanship in human strategy. I still serve in that world today as a bivocational pastor.
These days, my main job is developing people and guarding company culture. That means recruiting, training, handling conflict, and sometimes helping someone see the job isn’t a fit. I love that work. I look forward to it. Sure, it cuts into the time I’d like for writing, but in another way, it feeds my writing. It keeps me grounded, gives me fresh ideas, and keeps me connected to real people in real situations.
The reality is, many pastors live in a different world. They spend most of their week reading, studying, or having slow, unhurried conversations over coffee. That’s valuable, but it’s nothing like the fast-paced, results-driven, metrics-measured reality most folks live in. My work keeps me tied to that reality... the one my preaching and writing are meant to address.
Pastoral ministry should never be an escape hatch for restless men who couldn’t find meaning in ordinary work. If a man can’t be faithful in the daily grind—showing up on time, providing for his family, doing his job with discipline and contentment—why would we trust him with the church of God? Ministry isn’t for men running from “normal” work; it’s for men proven in it.
That’s why I don’t buy the romantic idea that ministry is only for men who couldn’t possibly do anything else. The men most fit to pastor are often those who have already proven themselves faithful and fruitful in regular work. Pastoral ministry isn’t an escape from the real world; it’s an extension of faithfulness within it.
Postscript
Being both a pastor, a hiring manager, and overseeing a team of recruiters has given me a front-row seat to failed calls to ministry. I’ve seen plenty of men take that old line—“if you can do anything else, do it”—and run headlong into ministry without ever learning real-world skills.
The pattern is predictable: a Bible degree while working low-end jobs, then seminary where they’re told not to work at all. They graduate in their late twenties with no career track record and step straight into a pastoral role. If it doesn’t work out, they’re left with specialized degrees, little experience, and few options.
Worse yet, I’ve seen men in their forties and fifties leave ministry burned out, underpaid, and with almost no retirement... scrambling to start over in a world they never learned to navigate. They bet everything on vocational ministry because someone told them that if they could have done anything else, they shouldn’t. I recommend avoiding that if you can.
Reading on creating a culture of development at work.
"And if you choose to live an unexamined life, please don't take a job that involves other people." ~ Parker Palmer
"Imagine if we measured success by the amount of safety people felt in our presence." ~ Jonathan Louis Dent
@AlanRobertJones@alanfrow Ex 34:30 says it’s the people who were afraid, yet the priestly blessing in numbers 6 is “may his face shine upon you.” Because the people actually need to look upon God with intimacy face to face.
@AlanRobertJones@alanfrow Interesting, but also ex 33:7 says that people could actually go out to the tent of meeting to inquire of God and Joshua goes to the tent in deut 31:17 and god says that he will hide his face at some future time in contrast to how he’s made himself accessible in the wilderness.
“Leadership is lonely”
That’s what everyone says.
If it means “there’s distinct pressure that few understand,” then I agree.
But if it means “I’m isolated and don’t have friends who help carry the load,” then we’re doing leadership wrong.
I’m all for thinking theologically about political and social issues. But we’ve got to be careful we aren’t theologizing our opinions. Better to say, “I don’t like this…” or “I prefer this…” “…and this is why” than to deploy theological arguments for why we all have to see it the way you do.