Now great crowds accompanied him, and he turned and said to them,  “If anyone comes to me and does not hate his own father and mother and wife and children and brothers and sisters, yes, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple.  Whoever does not bear his own cross and come after me cannot be my disciple.  For which of you, desiring to build a tower, does not first sit down and count the cost, whether he has enough to complete it? Otherwise, when he has laid a foundation and is not able to finish, all who see it begin to mock him, saying, ‘This man began to build and was not able to finish.’  Or what king, going out to encounter another king in war, will not sit down first and deliberate whether he is able with ten thousand to meet him who comes against him with twenty thousand? And if not, while the other is yet a great way off, he sends a delegation and asks for terms of peace.  So therefore, any one of you who does not renounce all that he has cannot be my disciple.
— Luke 14:25-33, ESV

Dear Cade,

Instead of preaching at your ordination service, I thought I’d write you this letter instead.  I wish someone had written one like it to me at my ordination.  Things may not have turned out differently, but at least I would have been forewarned.

Please consider seriously the words of Jesus in the Gospel of Luke, 14:25-33.  These were the first words from the Bible I heard, effectually, in 1982, when I became a Christian.  They haunted me for four more years until, in 1986, I not only surrendered to Christ, but to the Christian ministry, just like you are doing now, unless this letter persuades you otherwise.

Before you accept ordination, I must share with you a few things I know now that I wish I knew then.  I thought seminary would be fun, one big Bible conference.  It was not.  It was hard, taxing, difficult, which is why the majority of people who start never finish.  I thought church members would be easier to work with than the crusty truck drivers and dock hands at the company I worked for after college, but they were not, present company excluded.  Ministry has been more of a rude awakening than a dream come true.

So if you decide to press on to ordination and beyond, I must offer some warning.  You will not be successful, at least not in the way most people define success.  Take a good look at Jesus.  The Lord had “great crowds” when He uttered these words and offered His services as the shepherd of God’s flock.  You know how that worked out for Him.  

The “great crowds” slowly drifted away.  At the end, they went from praising Jesus’ name to calling for His crucifixion.  He died with only a few family and friends willing to watch.  At the end of His ministry He had no wife, no children, no home of His own, no money, not even clothes on His back.  

I remember my own seminary and ordination experience.  People prophesied I’d pastor a “big church,” similar to Jesus’ “great crowds.”  I did see membership swell to over a thousand in one church I led, right before they fired me, not for dishonesty or immorality, but for faithfully preaching the gospel.  I have learned that pastors who earnestly preach Jesus, and closely follow Jesus, often get treated like Jesus.   

Like you I started out bright, athletic, winsome, handsome.  I could have done anything, had almost any job, made a lot of money.  You could, too, and it’s not too late for you.  I warn you, if you persist in following Christ into Christian ministry, you could wind up like me, a grumpy old man, without hair, without riches, without any “great crowds” gathered at your feet.

Of course, Jesus did eschew the “great crowds” in order to favor the few.  That’s why only a handful of people were around Him when He died.  Among those at the foot of the cross, I am at least mildly surprised any of His family showed at all.  After all, Jesus said any follower of His must “hate his own father and mother and wife and children and brothers and sisters.”  Jesus was always doing that, putting God and God’s people ahead of His own flesh and blood.  

Up to the time of my calling, I was a hometown hero.  I’d go places and not have to pay for dinner or drinks.  My family was close, personally and in proximity.  As we aged my mother depended on me for support, my father started coming to me for advice, and my siblings looked up to me as an example.  

Then, I got ordained, and just up and left them.  When my parents got sick and died in southeast Georgia, I was living west of the mighty Mississippi River in Arkansas.  To this day I seldom see my siblings and am known by name only to my nephews and nieces.  Even my own daughters live too far away for comfort.  We now get to watch our grandchildren grow up, on FaceTime.  

Maybe you’ll be blessed to serve a church in Conway or Hot Springs.  New Testament pastors are not Old Testament prophets and should be welcomed in their home towns.  However, the Lord is likely to send you across the country or around the world.  You never know what God is going to do with you, or where He will send you, when you become His ordained minister.  

And if you do enter this race, knowing you, you will run too fast and too hard.  You will be like Jesus, too demanding for most people, including those who profess to be God’s people.  No one wants to “bear his own cross” anymore.  You get out there and start preaching the cross, and some churches will put you on one.

The problem with most church people in our age is they want to be entertained, served instead of serving, captain their own ship, or better yet, committee.  They do not want to follow a “shepherd,” or “pastor” or be ruled by an “elder” or “overseer.”  They may have to submit to authority on the job, but by golly they’re not going to do it at the church.  You start preaching like Jesus preached and leading like Jesus led, and you and Sara could be out on the street before you can say the twenty-third Psalm.  

I know.  I’ve been run off, directly or indirectly, by every church I’ve served, except this one.  And you can’t have this one.  I plan to be here until I get too old or die, whichever comes first.  And whichever does come first, it will probably come too soon, from the stress, struggle, and shortcomings of spending almost every day for forty years in the church.

So before you accept ordination, take Jesus’ advice.  “Count the cost.”  While a career in ministry is still a “great way off,” you could go to God “and ask for terms of peace.”  In other words, beg off the ordination, seek out a more peaceful, normal, rewarding profession for yourself, for Sara, and for any children the Lord may give to you.  

Surely God will understand.  I know your family, friends, and fellow church members will love you just as much if you become a doctor, or lawyer, or businessman, as they will if you leave us to serve as a pastor, or professor, or missionary.  For if you choose the ministry, you will wind up literally Lord knows where.  

Mark my words and take a moment to consider what it is you are about to do.  More importantly, mark Jesus’ words and realize what He is asking you to do.  Jesus said you must “renounce all” that you have in order to be His disciple, then spend the rest of your life trying to make disciples for the Lord.  

Is it really worth it?  Will you really do it?  What will become of you and Sara?  

Remember, you will have to forget the “great crowds.”  You will be constantly called upon to forsake your “own father and mother and wife and children and brothers and sisters.”  Your “own life” will have to be your last concern.  At the end of the day, you’ll be left with nothing but a “cross” and its very high “cost.”  

I know what your decision is going to be.  You are going to accept this ordination.  You are going to work extremely hard to get the best preparation possible in seminary.  You are going to fill pulpits or professorial shoes for the rest of your life.  You are going to endure the criticism, hardship, persecution, and tribulation that comes with being an ordained minister of the gospel of Jesus Christ.  You are going to persevere, and keep Christ’s calling, no matter what the cost.  

Let me be honest now and admit something to you.  It is worth it.  Jesus is worth it.  His church is worth it.  

So if you are going to commit to ministry as your vocation, do it right, and do it with all your heart.  Make sure you measure up to the biblically higher standards God places upon the officers of His church.  In doing so, you will set an example for every member of the body of Christ to follow.  And I hope the people listen to you, moreover hear and heed the words of the Lord Jesus Christ in Luke 14:25-33, which applies to all: 

“Any one of you who does not renounce all that he has cannot be my disciple.”

Such a commitment is required of anyone who would be a true follower of Jesus.  But it is also true most of them will not be called to leave loving homes and good jobs to follow the Lord through seminary and into the pastorate.  

God is calling you now to go to places you cannot yet see.  This requires faith.  You, Cade and Sara, have it.  Live by it.

Face your future with hope.  Confidently expect that if you serve the Lord with all of your heart, the Lord will take care of His servants.  Have no complaints.  Simply trust and obey.

And finally, and most importantly, know you are loved.  The Lord Jesus Christ loves you and has called you by name.  Your own family loves you with Christian love.  Your church who ordains you loves with great confidence.  

So, go now Cade, you and Sara, and share the word of God, the truth of the gospel, and the love of Jesus Christ, with everyone, everyday, everywhere the Lord will send you. 

In Christ,
Pastor Chuck