Les Miserables held much more for me than simply a lovely
Sunday afternoon shared with my husband and daughter. I did not anticipate that God would use the
musical to help me face the grief that difficult years of ministry can bring.
The song “I Dreamed a Dream” began the flood of
emotion. Fantine, the character broken
by life’s hard journey sings her account of her progression from youthful,
naive optimism to the harsh realities of living in a broken world. I too had started ministry with ideals
and expectations 20 years ago. Kingdom
work would be exciting. Love would conquer all.
As I sat in that movie theater and took in Fantine’s
haunting words from her bleeding heart of crushed hopes, my whole being
resonated with her as I reflected on my expectations for ministry. Her words were my words, “There was a time
when love was blind; and the world was a song; and the song was exciting; I
dreamed a dream in times gone by; when hope was high; and life worth living; I
dreamed that love would never die; I dreamed that God would be forgiving; then
I was young and unafraid; and dreams were made and used and wasted; there was
no ransom to be paid.”
Ransoms To Be Paid
There is always a ransom to be paid. Fantine had surrendered
her idealism as she sang from her despair, “Now life has killed the dream I
dreamed.” Her hopes and dreams were as sullied as her dress as she paid her
high ransom.
After a few long,
hard years of ministry, I felt like I had been paying the ransom too. There are
seemingly unavoidable relational ransoms to be paid in ministry. These costs
have been the cause of indescribable grief for me through the years. Young
Marius, of Les Mis, describes this well in his song, “There's a grief that
can't be spoken; there's a pain goes on and on; phantom faces at the window;
phantom shadows on the floor; empty chairs at empty tables; where my friends
will meet no more. “ Those words sting.
Relational Ransoms in Ministry
I have attempted (at times failing) to love people well in
ministry. In spite of my effort, I have lost many friends over the
years. Some have gone simply because they have left our church. Many feel
better completely cutting ties when they leave, and so leaving the church means
leaving the relationship with the pastor and his wife. Others have chosen to
make sinful choices and they knew I, their pastor’s wife and friend, would attempt to hold
them accountable for those choices. In choosing the path of sin, they chose to
remove all of the obstacles. I was an obstacle. I have also borne relational
losses over the years from misunderstandings, theological differences, false
accusations, speaking the truth in love, to name a few. Sadly, there are many friends through the
years that are now “empty chairs at empty tables where my friends will meet no
more.”
I, with Fantine and Marius, cannot deny the impact and hurt
of these losses. I have to fight a grueling battle with cynicism. I
wholeheartedly believe that we were created for relationships and are meant to
experience the blessings and beauty of true fellowship. In this, we reflect the
relational beauty of the Trinitarian love of God (John 17). But often, the
brutal realities of relational losses in ministry overshadow what I profess to
believe.
The Calling that Keeps
It is an understatement to say that these losses are
painful; it can feel like one “death” after another. However, ministry is a
calling and that calling does not allow those who are called to forsake it even
if given the option to do so. We could not, because at some point, ministry
truly became our life. Life without ministry would not be life at all. As a
missionary friend put it, “There is no other life for us. There is no option.
We can have the easy way, it's there for the taking but by the amazing grace of
God, we won't.” She is right.
What keeps me pressing on even when I feel like running for
the hills? Jesus Christ is the only One who has truly comforted me in all of my
afflictions and given me the grace I need to persevere in love. I would have
thrown in the towel years ago and begged my husband to do anything else were it
not for Jesus.
Jesus Gives Greater Graces
There is no experience in ministry that Jesus has not
already known in deeper ways. “For we do not have a high priest who is unable
to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been
tempted as we are, yet without sin.” (Hebrews 4:15) He knows the pain of
searing loss in ways I will never know or endure. He poured his life out in
love for his friends and was rejected, despised, forsaken, discarded, falsely
accused, mistreated, and finally killed in response. I must “consider him who endured from sinners
such hostility against himself, so that {I} may not grow weary or
fainthearted.” (Hebrews 12:3)
The ultimate ransom must be paid and “Jesus paid it all”. He
understands deep suffering in the path of love;
“but for the joy set before him, he endured, though he despised the
shame” (Hebrews 12:2). My suffering is light in comparison. Because of his
endurance through suffering, I can draw comfort from him and endure. I can
“with confidence draw near to the throne of grace” to receive “mercy and find
grace to help in time of need.” (Hebrews 4:16)
These losses have been a means of transformation in my life
as God has faithfully and gently used my grief to show me my own sin. “For the
Lord disciplines the one he loves, and chastises every son whom he receives.”
(Hebrews 12:6) He has not allowed my pain to be wasted; rather, he has used it
to conform me into His image from one degree of glory to the next (2
Corinthians 3:18) by allowing me to see how much hope I put in created things
for ultimate happiness. I am grateful that he has used ministry disappointments
to “discipline {me} for {my} good, that {I} may share in his holiness.”
(Hebrews 12:10)
There are times in the crucible of ministry that I have felt
like I can’t do what I know I must. Everything in me cries, “I can’t!” These
are the moments that I have truly learned that apart from him I can do nothing
(John 15:5). Yet I have also experienced his strength buttress that weakness.
“He said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect
in weakness,’” and I can be “”content with weaknesses, insults, hardships,
persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong.” (2
Corinthians 12:9-10) There has been nothing like ministry that has caused me to
acknowledge, accept and own my utter inability, cling to his strength, and say,
“I can do all things through him who strengthens me.” (Philippians 4:13)
Jesus has faithfully comforted, changed, and strengthened me
through every excruciating ministry loss, He has met me with more grace,
encouraging me to “lift your drooping hands and strengthen your weak knees”
(Hebrews 12:12), to “not grow weary or fainthearted” (Hebrews 12:3), but rather to “run with endurance the race that
is set before us” (Hebrews 12:1).
Will You Give All You Can Give?
With every experience of loss from the brokenness that
results from sin, let us be emboldened to speak louder and bolder about the
liberating gospel that frees us from the slavery of sin. Let all who are
angered by this brokenness sing the closing song of Les Mis together: “Do you hear the people sing; singing the
song of angry men; it is the music of a people; who will not be slaves again;
will you give all you can give; so that our banner may advance; some will fall
and some will live; will you stand up and take your chance?”
At the end of the day, it’s worth it because He is worth it!
