Tennessee Ernie Ford used to say that “misery is a bull frog sitting in the middle of the Los Angeles Freeway with his hopper out of whack.” Others at various times have attempted to define misery as “a giraffe with a bad case of sore throat” or as “a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.” Each of us could add to the list.
There are difficulties in every walk of life or vocation which we could use to accurately define misery. Every person could easily draw up his or her own list. But let me list a few of the things that fall in the category of misery from a pastor’s perspective:
MISERY IS . . . when a pastor comes into the church sanctuary to lead his congregation in worship and glances out at the small Sunday night attendance . . . and realizes that it is actually Sunday morning.
MISERY IS . . . when a deacon asks, “Pastor, do we still have prayer meeting on Wednesday nights?”
MISERY IS . . . when a church member comes up to you as you are preparing to move to a new church field and says, “Preacher, the members of our congregation are really going to miss you around here” – when for the last 20 years he has only attended church on Easter Sunday and every now and then on special occasions, as when the church choir presents its annual Christmas cantata.
MISERY IS . . . when a very inactive church member is in the hospital and literally no one knows he is there, arrives back home and is angry that his pastor didn’t visit him. A lady in a church I served back in the 1960’s returned from the hospital when even her next-door neighbor did not know she had been in the hospital. When the neighbor saw that she had come home she called me, and I immediately visited her.
She said, “I was hoping no one would ask me if my pastor had been to see me, when you had not been.” I replied, “The reason I didn’t visit you is that my seminary failed me.” When she asked how the seminary had failed me, I replied, “It didn’t have in its curriculum a course in mind-reading! You told literally no one you were going to the hospital, so how could I have known you were there and visited you?”
MISERY IS . . . when you preach your annual stewardship sermon . . . and the man who attends church once a year says to you as he leaves church, “Every time I attend church you preach about money.”
MISERY IS . . . when a church member sleeps through your entire sermon that you preached one Sunday, then shakes your hand at the door as he leaves and says, “I really enjoyed your sermon today.”
Thus far, I have listed some of the things that add up to misery for the preacher. I must acknowledge that some things about attending church can also add up to misery for those who listen to sermons. One of them is when a preacher doesn’t know when to end a sermon. Every preacher would be wise to follow the advice in this helpful prayer for preachers: “Lord, fill my mouth with worthwhile stuff . . . and nudge me when I’ve said enough.” That’s good advice because your mind can’t retain more than your seat can endure.
If a preacher can’t strike oil in 30 minutes, it shows he is either using a dull auger or he is boring in the wrong place. One reason for poor preaching in the pulpit is that there is poor praying in the pew. Therefore, pray for your pastor!