Did you say “Delayed Gratification”? Nope. Gratitude. Thanks. Attaboys. Confirmations that our ministry is on target and makes sense and is being used by the Spirit of God to bring about real transformation in people’s lives, specially when you have to say tough things to someone you love. I’m sure you get comments of gratitude and thanks for your sermons from time to time, like “Man you were on fire!”, “Have you been following me around this week?” (I always affirm that I have), “I was taking notes!” or “Good jokes pastor.” You might get positive comments every week, and that’s great. I don’t, but then Baptist preacher Calvin Miller said that if he gave 25 good sermons a year he was happy. That helped me be happy too with whatever I get. Steve Brown says that if you get 51% you chalk it up as success. I can live with that.

Back to gratitude. I like hearing that I’m getting through and that people think I’m as awesome as I think I am. But I’ve come to really treasure the statements of delayed gratitude that I get. Do you get them? I received one just the other day from a young man who left our church ticked off at yours truly. Here it is:

Dear Pete:

I was driving to work this morning and I felt the Lord lay upon my heart to send you this email.

Two years ago, when all that stuff went down I reacted with a less than repentant heart. After a few days, I realized my error and I did make a turn from my sins and trusted God to forgive me of my sins and purify me from all unrighteousness (I John 1:9). BUT the one thing I didn’t do was ask for the strength to forgive those whom I felt had sinned against me, as Jesus instructs us to do in His Prayer. The humility of having a private sin made “public” (or at least, to the leadership) was a growth experience, but I sat back idly and soon my humility turned into a misguided piety. I began struggling with self-righteousness and I forgot myself and allowed myself to revel in my own piety. It was foolish of me to think these things and act as the Pharisee did when he “thanked God that he was not like the tax collector,” and I am sorry. (Even now, as I am typing this email the song “Your Grace is Enough” came on the radio.)

All this to say, I am sorry for my poor attitude and my pious actions. I am thankful that the Lord had forgiven me, even though I did not deserve His forgiveness. I pray that you guys would be able to do the same (forgive me for my foolish behavior).

Thinking back on my spiritual journey I am very thankful for BOTH of you and all you have done. I am blessed to have had such godly men in my life. I pray for the Lord’s continued blessing upon you and your families, and WCC.”

Is this a world class letter or what? Pastors would die to get something like this! I save and protect these letters and emails like they’re gold. I come back to them in my “Motivation” file from time to time when I am low or tired or ready to run like crazy away from the church. I read them, savor them really, and after a good meal I’m ready to get back into the battle. Energized. Confirmed. Is justified too strong a word?

Being a pastor is way less glamorous than I thought it would be. The younger staff members who think you’re so antiquated you have nothing good to say; the other staff members who don’t like you but are scared of you; the straight talk you give staff only to have your words twisted and your credibility put on the line; the people you try to help with truth but leave, again casting doubt on your character (my friend above didn’t do that; we really did part as friends); the others in the church who think you were too harsh with the one who left, when in reality you were so gentle you wouldn’t have disturbed an insomniac. The marriages that broke up-the tough truth to both parties you had to give. A young man becomes a Christian and wants to immediately be put in front of the congregation with a high profile ministry role; then leaves the church before you can disciple him.

Glamorous? Why did I ever in my delusional state of mind think the pastorate would be glamorous? Probably reveals that I needed to be affirmed as a person and thought that I would be a “big fish in a little pond” as a pastor, and then I would feel good about my self. Big fish get hooked and hurt just like small ones however. No glamour in the pastorate. Our people have absolutely no idea how difficult it is for us to deliver tough truth. The sleep lost, the stress endured, the time I’m preoccupied with their issues that kept me wrestling and emotionally cut off from my family, the soul searching at 2 AM…all this is seldom if ever known by our people. After all, we only work one day a week. We pastors pay a high cost to serve up truth to our people. “Why don’t they thank me for what I’ve done for them?” Ever thought that? Uh huh, me too.

Well, Occasionally they do. Occasionally.

Sometimes delayed gratitude comes from someone like my friend above. Like almost all of my past staff who were ticked at me who in one way or another said, “I’m sorry, I had no idea what it was like to be a senior pastor. Now I do. Thanks for what you did that helped me.” Occasionally you get a real sincere, “I’m sorry.” And you get the Father’s blessing, and you go back out planting seeds and doing what pastors do.

Why is gratitude to pastors so often delayed? Here are some reasons:

1) Busyness. Life is busy, and people don’t take the time to find us and thank us. Later on, much later, something or Someone (the Holy Spirit?) motivates them to thank us and they do.

2) Some people figure we’re in this work to absorb abuse and that we don’t want or need their apologies or thanks. They couldn’t be further from the truth of course, but some people think that we knew what we were getting into when we became pastors and that thanks aren’t needed. We’re paid to put up with bleating sheep so they are convinced. Some wake up and know they put their pastor through more than the average wooly critter.

3) True growth into Christlikeness is often slow and painful for Christians and it takes a long time for our people to see what God was up to in their lives and how He used us to play a role in their growth. When they finally grow, they may have forgotten the role you played in their growth and not say “thanks” or “I’m sorry” at all. Even if they could track you down, they might be too guilt ridden or embarrassed to say anything to you. But gratitude is delayed to those who deserve it from those who are disposed to give it simply because it takes so long to grow. Our work often takes years to bear fruit.

Ultimately, I have had to grow to realize that I did not follow Jesus into this work to be thanked by people. Increasingly, my identity is determined by Him and not people or results. Increasingly, I said. I’m not there yet. I’m still too into gaining people’s approval. And at least, to this point in my life I have not lost my head (John the Presbyterian) or had my blood spilled (check out Hebrews 12) as a pastor. (I have come really close to having a much bigger guy tackle me in the parking lot one night. He was really angry! If that had happened and I’d lived, it would have made for a great article to pastors. I’m sort of sorry it didn’t.)

So when the Lord gives you the gift of delayed gratitude, sit back and enjoy it. Read it several times. Savor it. Share it with a couple of close friends who can rejoice with you. Chances are you didn’t go through that incident alone. Thank God for it. Save it. Put it in your motivation file. Pat yourself on the back…you did fight well when you had too! Write your “gratitude” back and thank them. From then on, you’ll probably be closer than you thought. Enjoy the satisfaction of difficult ministry done well and right. You have been justified in what you did to show tough love, and those brothers or sisters are better off for you having done so. You were Christ’s warrior when you need to be.

Which is how we should always view ourselves. Warriors.

See you back in the battle, whether they thank you or not.

Strength and Courage,

Pete

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