By J. Wesley Shipp |
I did not really understand, that day in 1956, when my pastor met with me and, in answer to my question about going into the ministry, said, “If you can do anything else and be happy, don’t do it!” My reply was that I had struggled with this decision for the better part of two years and had become ill in the process. It was clear to me that I could not be happy without surrendering to God in this matter. His reply was simply this: “Then you really don’t need to ask me what
to do.” He was right, of course, for I had wrestled with God for two years and had not prevailed.
I really did not want to do this. The prospect of attempting to go to college and seminary, while supporting my wife and two children seemed all but impossible. Nevertheless, in January of 1957, I entered the University of Richmond, VA, and began my work toward a Bachelor of Arts degree. It was August of 1967 when I received my degree. In 1970, I received the Master of Divinity degree from Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary in Wake Forest, NC.
I had pastored churches in Virginia while attending the University of Richmond, and, when I entered Southeastern Seminary, I continued to drive 150 miles each way to continue pastoring in Virginia. Those pastorates were meaningful, and, apart from the usual difficulties, they were really a joy. They had meaningful ministries, and I enjoyed a degree of “success.”
In 1969, I was called to a church in North Carolina that was very near the Seminary. It seemed ideal. However, it was a move that would cause my family and me to endure the most painful period of my ministry. At the same time, the events of that pastorate and the decisions made there have helped to guide the course of my ministry even until now. It was a time of great racial tension. My stand for racial equality was not popular in many quarters. It was there in North Carolina that the bullets, which ripped through the window and walls of our home, together with my dismissal from my pastorate propelled me into almost thirty years of multi-cultural and urban ministry. That shooting and dismissal left me hurting by the side of the road of life, and then the Good Samaritan, the black church, took me in and helped me to understand how close one can grow up to a culture and not understand it at all. As I sit writing this article in my study at the First Baptist Church of Philadelphia, where I am presently Interim Pastor, it occurs to me that I am here partly because of those difficult events long ago.
So, out of my experience, what do I have to say about the ministry as a career? It is a calling that demands a kind of total commitment?a commitment that few careers require. If one is looking only for financial rewards and material comforts, I would suggest that one look elsewhere. If, however, one is looking for a career with other satisfactions, then this may be the job one is seeking.
God does not seem to be very concerned about the comfort of his servants, for God constantly calls us to take unpopular stands, even when we have to do so in opposition to the members of our own church. Why is it so unpopular to preach the unconditional love of God for everyone? God sent her own unique child, Jesus as the Christ, into the world, so that in Christ all could be made alive.
The issues change, but the underlying sickness of prejudice and bigotry remain the same. First it was race—people were the wrong color—then there were women’s issues—they were the wrong gender, and now there are gay and lesbian issues—they have the wrong sexual orientation. We need to read again God’s admonition to Peter to “not call anyone profane or unclean” (Acts 10:28, NRSV).
But there is also another side of pastoring. We really do have a license to meddle in people’s lives. I used to tell young ministers, as I was guiding them in their field education experiences, “When you are walking around in people’s lives, take off your shoes; you are on holy ground.” And when someone comes to you and says, “Thanks for that word; I feel better about myself now,” or, “I don’t know how I would have made it without you, pastor,” or, “Thanks for listening to me and still loving me; I guess if you can know this about me and still love me, then God can love me, too,” then it all seems worth it somehow.
This career, or calling, or business of doing ministry, as a pastor, is often a roller coaster ride. You are hated; you are loved; you are terrible; you are wonderful. You are shot at and fired one day, and thirty years later the town invites you back and gives you the key to the city. You have days when you are convinced that you have the most wonderful job in the world—and days when you wonder how you could have been stupid enough to follow this calling. As my friend, Carlyle Marney, used to say, “It’s not possible to believe that it is worth it, all the time.” Oh, by the way, I am 71 years old, and I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.
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The Reverend J. Wesley Shipp is presently serving as the Interim Pastor of the First Baptist Church of Philadelphia, PA.
