In 1858 the Illinois legislature–using an obscure statute–sent Stephen A. Douglas (1813-1861) to the U.S. Senate instead of Abraham Lincoln (1809-1865), although Lincoln had won the popular vote. When a sympathetic friend asked Lincoln how he felt, he said, “Like the boy who stubbed his toe: I am too big to cry and too badly hurt to laugh.” He is not alone.
Many famous people throughout history have experienced disappointment. Consider these examples:
Alexander the Great conquered Persia but broke down and wept because his troops were too exhausted to push on to India.
Hugo Grotius, the father of modern international law, said at the last, “I have accomplished nothing worthwhile in my life.”
John Quincy Adams, sixth President of the U.S., wrote in his diary: “My life has been spent in vain and idle aspirations, and in ceaseless rejected prayers that something would be the result of my existence beneficial to my species.”
Robert Louis Stevenson wrote words that continue to delight and enrich our lives, and yet what did he write for his epitaph? “Here lies one who meant well, who tried a little, and failed much.”
Cecil Rhodes opened Africa and established an empire, but what were his dying words? “So little done, so much to do.”
Disappointment seems to be part of the human experience. It is not just true of the famous. It happens to everyone. When was the last time you were disappointed? It may have been the time you bought your home. It seemed perfect, until the first rain came. You walked down the stairs and saw your wet basement. It may have been the time an old friend came to visit. You counted the days down, but you got sick on the big day. It may have been the time your children partied their way out of college. Why didn’t they study? We all understand disappointment because disappointment is part of the human experience. Life is filled with disappointments. If that is true in the secular world, then it is true in the life of the church as well. That takes us to our scripture lesson.
We find ourselves in the fourteenth chapter of Acts, verses eight through eighteen. If you have read my past few blogs, then you know the text’s background. Paul and Barnabas are on their first missionary journey. To be more exact, they are on the island of Cyprus in the town of Lystra.
As with all new ministries, their expectations must have been high. They must have dreamed of winning the whole community to Jesus. Their evangelistic efforts in that town began with the community’s saddest citizen, a gentleman who had never walked. It is safe to say he was a professional beggar; he existed on the compassion of others. His friends or family placed him in the same spot every morning to beg. The same group took him home in the evening. The whole community saw him as a victim, but Paul saw more. Paul asked the man to do something he had never done — walk! Miraculously, the cripple did walk. There should have been a happy ending to the story, but the crowd didn’t understand. To Paul and Barnabas, the healing demonstrated the power of God. To the people of Lystra, they believed Paul and Barnabas were gods. The whole experience was a disaster. Have you ever done something for the right reason, but everything went completely wrong? The story began with high expectations and ended in complete disappointment.
When was the last time you were disappointed? When was the last time your expectations didn’t match your reality? It may have been the time you organized Vacation Bible School. You were looking for a big crowd of happy children, but only a handful came. It may have been the time you scheduled music for a special program, but only a handful came. It may have been the time you ordered twelve pizzas for youth group, but only two youth came. It may have been the time you cooked 150 chicken dinners to raise extra funds for the church and only sold 47. There is no other way to say it. You were disappointed. Have you ever said, “I will never do that again”? If you are planning on doing something great for God, then you better be prepared for disappointment. In my time in the ministry, I have experienced disappointment countless times. Then, I read a story that changed my view of the ministry. This is the story.
Mark Hatfield (1922-2011) was an American Politian and educator. A Republican, he served eight years as the Governor of Oregon and thirty years as a Senator. As a Senator, he once visited Mother Theresa (1910-1997) and her “House of the Dying” in Calcutta, India. The trip was intense. He witnessed how sick children were cared for in their last days and the dispensary, where the poor lined up by the hundreds to receive medical attention. Watching Mother Teresa, Hatfield was overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of the suffering she and her co-workers faced daily. “How can you bear the load without being crushed by it?” he asked. Mother Teresa replied, “My dear Senator, I am not called to be successful, I am called to be faithful.” Mother Theresa was right! We spend far too much time worrying about being successful in the ministry and spend far too little time worrying about being faithful. The Bible is filled with many unsuccessful faithful people. How many examples do you need?
Do you remember John the Baptist’s story? He was born to an elderly couple, Zachariah and Elizabeth. His birth ruined their retirement plans and paved the way for something new. John the Baptist was a cousin of Jesus who did great things for God. Yet, he lived in Jesus’s shadow. Oh, he had his supporters; some believed he was the Messiah. However, John knew his place – he was only the forerunner of the Messiah. That was good enough for him. He was not interested in worldly success; he was only interested in being faithful, doing the will of God. Mother Theresa was right! Being faithful is the only thing that matters.
Do you remember the story of that first Palm Sunday? The gospel writers go out of their way to emphasize the size of the crowd. It has been estimated 2,500,000 people crowded into Jerusalem for that Passover. They came to pay their taxes and they came to be with their loved ones. However, that Passover was different because Jesus was the hot topic. So, they went to see Jesus. Some went to see Jesus because they needed something from him. They had a sick person in their life who needed healed. Some people went to see Jesus because he was trending. In other words, Jesus was a celebrity. Some went to see Jesus because they wanted him to lead a political revolution against the Romans. However, Jesus was not interested in a political revolution. Jesus came to lead a spiritual revolution. They came and there was a big crowd. Yet, what happened? The big crowd on Palm Sunday was reduced to a small gathering at the cross on Good Friday. What do you think? Was Jesus more impressed by the big crowd on Palm Sunday or the small gathering on Good Friday? Mother Theresa was right! Being faithful is the only thing that matters. It sounds so simple, but it took me a lifetime to apply that simple truth.
When I was appointed to the Western Reserve United Methodist Church in Canfield, Ohio, in 1994, I had big dreams. The reason is simple: during my lifetime, the mainline Protestant church had been dying. Our branch of the church peaked out in 1957, when 57% of the United States belonged to a church. Every year that percentage has been dropping, it is now 46%. To prevent our demise, my generation of clergy was inundated with church growth principles. We were told that any church could grow. All you needed to do was discover the needs of our community and start ministries to meet those needs. The models that we were to follow were Saddleback Church in California and Willlowcreek in Illinois. If your church didn’t grow, then you were a failure. I did not want to be labeled as a failure, so I longed for church growth. I spent my last twenty-eight years in the ministry longing for church growth.
This is the problem — Western Reserve was not located in southern California or the greater Chicago area. Western Reserve was in Ohio’s Mahoning Valley. Our population base isn’t exploding, it is imploding. According to census reports, in 1970 the population in Mahoning County, the county in which the church was located, was 303,424. In 2021, the population of Mahoning County was 233,869. That means we have lost approximately 70,000 people in 51 years. My hometown of Warren in Trumbull County, just north of Mahoning County, had a population of approximately 68,000 when I graduated from high school in 1975. In 2021, the city of Warren had 39,070. This is the point — there are fewer of us all the time. Some left looking for work. Some left for better weather. Some just left. That means expanding any business or organization is extremely hard. I don’t care what business it is.
However, I am a church growth person, and the numbers were everything. On my last Sunday, I told the congregation I had failed. I was not able to turn their church into a megachurch, but I didn’t feel like a failure. I was proud of many things we did during my time at that church. I was proud we grew numerically. We rebuilt the congregation. I was proud our finances were solid, and we were able to help other none profits in our area. I was proud we worshipped. We offered three worshipped services every Sunday. Each service had a different style. I was proud we offered three worship services on Christmas Eve. I was proud we offered four services on Easter. I was proud we built a first-class pavilion and a wonderful outdoor chapel. I was proud we got involved in missions. Annually, our youth went on a mission trip with Group Work Camps. Twice we co-sponsored a Group Work camp to help the needy in Youngstown, Ohio. Annually, our church participated in sending many adults to the former Soviet Union to help orphans. Those were life-changing trips. Plus, we sent people to Baton Rouge, Louisiana to help flood victims. I am proud the church became a landlord during my time. The church is the home of Great Expectations Day Care and the Mahoning Valley District office. I am proud of the identity we forged in our community and the relationships I built. I should have felt like a failure because my church never became a megachurch, but I felt like a success because Mother Theresa was right! We are not called to be successful. We are called to be faithful.
Many have asked me what I miss about the church in retirement. The answer is not much. If God calls us into the ministry, then God tells us when to stop. However, one of the people I do miss is Bonnie. She owns the day care at the church, and we became friends. I did not know how important she was to me until I was gone. I miss talking to her about nothing. One day near the end of my time, we were talking, and she said something that caught me off guard. She said to me, “Russ, can I be honest with you? I can’t believe you are still here. I thought you would have moved away a long time ago. You seemed so ambitious when we met.” She closed by saying, “I’m glad you are still here.” I responded, “Me too.” If you want to survive doing ministry, then forget your expectations and surrender to God’s will. Mother Theresa was right! We are called to be faithful, not successful.
Russ Adams 