Want Ad

I came across an ad in a magazine. It said:

"EXTRAORDINARY MINISTER. We are searching for an extraordinary individual to join our ministerial team in our healthy, open-minded congregation of 800+ members to experience the joy of using his/her unique strengths to work with us in continuing to provide a diverse community of supportive, caring people who come together for worship, inspiration, music, Bible study, and fellowship, with a common commitment to Jesus Christ; and foster a talented, well-informed congregation that supports a unique environment of honor and light heartedness and expects to be challenged through inspiring sermons and a strong pulpit presence."

Dear Healthy, Talented, Well-informed Congregation,

I will not be submitting my resume for the EXTRAORDINARY MINISTER position. I am woefully underqualified. The truth is that I am actually quite ordinary in most things, and my few extraordinary qualities are an annoyance to those who know me.

Unlike an Extraordinary Minister, I sometimes get tired from the work of ministry, no matter how much joy I experience because of it. I have said things that I later regretted, even during sermons. And believe it or not, I do not yet know all there is to know about leading a church.

Fortunately for me, I am satisfied to be the pastor of a small country church---itself quite ordinary. Together, we have built upon a 122 year-old ministry that is not known for being extraordinary. Our building's architecture is not extraordinary: a small, old, greyish building next to the railroad tracks. Our worship is not extraordinary: our musicians sometimes hit the wrong notes, and our leaders sometimes miss their cues. Our youth program is not extraordinary: just a group of kids who hang out and, sometimes, talk about God.

Little about us is extraordinary, yet so much is good. We are simply a community of people---human beings---struggling to discern God's will and do what is right.

I wish you well on your search. And when you find your Extraordinary Minister, I hope that, six months later, when you discover him/her doing something that only ordinary people do, the revelation doesn't destroy you.