I’m not sure when or how it began. I once thought it started when I entered the pastorate some ten years ago, but it had to have been there earlier or I wouldn’t have accepted the particular call I did. For a long, long time, then, I’ve been wondering how exactly I am to take up my cross and follow my Lord. A few years back, I had to write a “philosophy of ministry” paper for a class I was taking, and I realized I conceived of pastoral work as filling up in my flesh what is lacking in the afflictions of Christ for the sake of his body, which is the Church (Colossians 1:24). The pastorate, then, was my cross. Except that, after a while, it became clear it wasn’t, not really, no matter how much I strive to imitate the humility of our Savior in my work. Simply put, there is too much of myself in it for the pastorate to be a death to myself.
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