The Value of an Annual Renewal and Study Break
Periodically I’m asked what the “secret” was to my 35-year run as pastor of Fellowship Missionary Church. And, to be sure, my first response is always, “It was by God’s grace. I had no greater vision than most, and I had no greater strength than most.”
Moreover, I was gifted with a wonderful wife, great kids, and good friends. And, at strategic moments, just the right people showed up to offer suggestions and provide guidance.
Yet there was one element that was inserted into my long run that, to my way of thinking, was absolutely crucial. It was birthed out of realized crisis and it was continued out of recognized value.
Human Being or Human Doing?
Allow me to give a bit of history to provide some context. FMC began back in 1982 as a church plant with 50 attenders. From day one, it was blessed with growth. As more and more people came, more and more responsibilities were added.
That meant land needed to be purchased, buildings needed to be built, and a budget needed to be met. As more services were added and more programs were created, more staff had to be hired.
As the leader, I shouldered the responsibility for all of this. The unconscious yet very real thought was, “It’s all up to me. If I don’t…it won’t.”
After 15 years of this wild ride, I began to recognize something in me that I either wouldn’t or couldn’t own up to. Call it an inner chaos in my soul – an internal churning that was far more disconcerting than my increasingly busy exterior life.
It was created by a combination of the non-stop pressures of ministry over the years – pressures of preaching and pastoring…of vision-casting and care-giving. That was the corporate aspect.
But also, with that, there was a personal aspect: an insecurity-based, performance-oriented drivenness – to ever do more…to always be better – that dogged me unrelentingly.
With those came what I’ve come to see as one of the greatest threats to anyone – that of becoming a “human doing” rather than a “human being.” Let me just tell you, that’s a formula for disaster.
When life is measured by what you do more than who you are, typically two things happen:
You begin to have a “whatever it takes” mentality to succeed – even if it means compromising your core values.
You begin to skim relationally – because going deep with people, including your own family, simply takes up too much time or energy.
When life is measured by what you do more than who you are, typically two things happen: 1) You begin to compromise your core values. 2) You begin to skim relationally.
From realized crisis to recognized value
But for a church leader to fall into that mindset is even more destructive because of the implications to the body he/she leads. I call it becoming “a professional Christian” – where you know enough theology to stay in the faith and have enough skill to stay in the pulpit.
However, slowly but surely, you start putting things on autopilot. Vision for what could be is eclipsed by survival in what is. Dreaming about the future is put on indefinite “hold.” All that matters is making it through the present.
But what’s worse is what it does to your heart. For one thing, God begins to be seen as a taskmaster to be served rather than a Father to be loved. Relationship with Him takes a back seat to responsibility to Him.
Your heart also begins to shrivel as it relates to people. Those you lead move from being individuals who matter to nameless faces in the crowd and ultimately to means to an end. Relationships first of all become dispensable, then they become disposable.
I say that I came to recognize this…but that’s not entirely accurate. Some discerning elders began to recognize the evidence of a soul-deep issue that I could not see for myself.
They asked me if I would consider taking some extended time away. Time to throttle back and bring the physical, emotional, and spiritual gauges of my life out of the red zone.
My first response was one of shock (“Where did this come from?!?”). And then it was one of shame (“What kind of loser do you think I am?!?”).
Thus it was, that (kicking and screaming) I obeyed a mandate to take four weeks off. The elders didn’t have many suggestions to offer beyond that. And I didn’t have any ideas as to how to fill those weeks.
Yet somehow, some way, something remarkable happened. As I hit the “pause” button and the silt settled in my life, I was able to see God in a new way. And I was able to see myself in a new way.
There’s not space enough here to describe the serendipitous encounters I had with the Lord during those days. Suffice it to say that I came back a different person and a different pastor.
I began the next ministry year with a fresh vision for my church and a fresh passion for my people. It was evident to all that a few weeks off had been life-changing.
That one-time request became an ongoing offer. The elders stopped asking “if” I was going to take some time away each summer. They asked “when” I was going to take some time away.
The practices that saved my ministry
I can now say with 20/20 hindsight that coming apart from ministry for a few weeks each year allowed me to sustain that ministry for two more decades.
In a day and age when so many Christian leaders are either bailing out or ending up in a ditch… or who are still on the leadership highway but numbed out and glassy-eyed…I once more was given the chance to reduce the RPMs, refill my spiritual tanks, and reexamine the roadmap God had for me and my church.
In a day when so many Christian leaders are either bailing out or ending up in a ditch, a study/renewal break gave me the chance to reduce the RPMs, refill my spiritual tanks, and reexamine the roadmap God had for me and my church.
I experienced the value of two classic spiritual practices that are all too rare in our day: solitude and silence. We don’t hear much about them anymore do we? Solitude and silence.
In SOLITUDE we withdraw from everything and everyone…except God - a retreat into intentional aloneness.
In SILENCE we withdraw not only from the company of others but also from our addiction to noise, sounds, music, or words for the purpose of listening to God.
A study/renewal break allowed me to practice SOLITUDE - withdrawing from everything and everyone…except God – and SILENCE – withdrawing from noise, sounds, music, or words for the purpose of listening to God.
King David, who was no stranger to the pressures of leadership, wrote:
“For God alone my soul waits in silence; from Him comes salvation.”
Ps. 62:1
David reflects how he waited “alone.” There’s the solitude. But he also writes, “…my soul waits in silence…” Solitude and silence. And out of those, “salvation.”
In my next post, I will share some of the insights I learned about “how” to make the most of this time of renewal and how that can then lead to a great time of brainstorming and study.
But, for now, consider my testimony about why it’s so important to prioritize this time of personal “soul care” whether you ever get around to pastoral planning or not.
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