In Praise of the /ˈlōk(ə)l/ /ˈminəstər/

In Praise of the /ˈlōk(ə)l/ /ˈminəstər/

This weekend I observed the rare /ˈlōk(ə)l/ /ˈminəstər/ in his natural habitat. I watched as his face lit up when the door would open and a person came in. I listened as he called them by name. I watched as he kidded with some and was kidded back with. My heart beat a little faster as he introduced me to several, each time highlighting something special about the person and bragging on them as servants. I was impressed as he went over and gave an affectionate hug to one and could tell he was asking about something in her life, maybe a sickness or a loss. It was a different Sunday as he was not preaching (that’s why I was there). But he still worked. His love for these people was evident. His passion for the church was beautiful. These are “his people.”

I can assure you he has his own struggles, hurts, haunts, and hangups; family issues, financial challenges, personal doubts and insecurities, people in “that room” who are difficult to deal with, but as he worked among these people you’d never know it. His life is vested in this Family. His focus is on his and His Family.

People ask me if I am enjoying what I am doing now. The answer is yes. I love it for so very many reasons. People ask me if I miss local work. I do. And this is what I miss. I miss “my people,” a phrase our mom often used to describe anyone who was in her family. Now, these local guys are my family and I love them. I love you. I love what you do. With all its challenges and with faltering confidence, with the “care of the” church on your shoulders - you do it well. Thank you for what you do. It matters. Preaching matters.