On the first Lord’s Day in April 1999, three days after my 20th birthday, I entered the pulpit of the Elliottsville Church of Christ as the full-time minister. I have been employed in full-time, vocational, local church, preaching ministry for every minute of the twenty-five years since. Technically, I was already in full-time local church ministry for several months prior while serving as an intern at the 77th Street congregation in Birmingham. But that Sunday morning, April 4th, I became a preaching and teaching minister, and that vocation has largely defined and shaped my life ever since.
I was asked to preach my first sermon in 1994 at the age of 15. The local church our family attended wanted to encourage and develop young men who might have gifts for ministry. I was supposed to prepare a twenty minute talk, another teenager would do the same, and we would split the sermon time on a Sunday evening. But when the time arrived, my friend chickened out. So I preached my sermon on The Historical Evidence for the Existence of Christ. The congregation loved it, but that’s probably because the lesson was only twenty minutes, and church let out early.
That first lesson led to more invitations, to preach at a new congregation nearby, and again in our own church, and then more frequently at a country church my dad was serving as a bi-vocational minister. When our family moved back to Alabama, I did pulpit supply in Anniston and then in many congregations in and around Birmingham. By the time I was 18, I was preaching frequently, sometimes as many as two or three Sundays a month. I covered for preachers who were out of town. Sometimes I was called to preach for someone who got sick, including one Sunday morning when a preacher’s wife called and asked if I could come.
When I was 18 years old, a congregation where I had preached several times and that was without a minister asked if I would become theirs. I thought, prayed, wept, and declined. I am very thankful I did. I am sure it was a sincere offer, but I did not need to be a minister at 18 years old (or 20), but I began to sense providence pressing me towards something I was not ready to agree to.
I wanted to preach in my early to mid-teens, but I had outgrown that desire when the time finally arrived. I did not lose my love for Christ, Scripture, or for sharing the gospel (insofar as I understood it), but by the time I was 15 or 16, I knew a lot of preachers, and I knew that I did not want to be like most of them. I wanted to serve Christ, but I did not want to be a typical Church of Christ minister. My professional interests lay elsewhere, and I believed I could best serve the church as a faithful member who was able to teach and preach while making a living in another way. Not long after deciding not to accept that first call, the elders at 77th Street began talking to me about becoming a full-time intern. They believed I had gifts for preaching, and they wanted to see me test and develop those gifts while I was still young, unattached, and not too committed to anything else yet. I demurred, resisted, and delayed. At one point, I thought they had given up, but in the Fall of 1998, I finally relented. I agreed to try. I’ll never forget Richard Buchanan standing in front of the entire church announcing my new position and charging me in the words of 2 Timothy 4. It was the most sobering charge I ever received, before or since.
I was already dating Kirstie, and when I decided to propose in February of the next year, I knew I could not support a wife on what little I was being paid. I had a job offer in Atlanta doing work I had done before and enjoyed. But when a friend learned that I might quit preaching, he got word to the folks at Elliottsville who had heard me preach before. I had filled in for them while they were conducting a search for a new minister, but I do not think they would have considered me unless someone else had suggested it to them. (The same friend was instrumental in my second call as well, something he may now regret but for which I will always be grateful.)
Elliottsville asked me to candidate, and after meeting with the men of the congregation, they offered me the job. I had a lot to think about. This was not my plan. I was headed down a different road. I would work for a while in order to get married and then keep pursuing my dream. But I felt no peace about it. When I was 15 years old an older sister in Christ cornered me after a service and strongly warned me, “God won’t be pleased if you don’t preach!” How she knew that when I wasn’t even old enough for a driver’s license, I have no idea. I am sure she was not a prophetess. But I had heard many similar comments from men and women for the five years since, and the pull was strong, even if I did not want it. I did not understand then the doctrine of an internal call to ministry. I thought it was simply my choice, but if I did not want to give my life to preaching, why was I feeling inexorably pulled to do so?
I will never forget meeting my Dad at the Burger King near his office to drink coffee and talk about the decision I had to make. I knew he wanted me to preach. He had made that clear for many years. He knew I did not want to. It was one of the few things we had ever argued about, but we had argued about it, many times, even to the point of tears. “I will do this,” I told him, “but I refuse to ever think of this as a career. I want to serve Christ and help the church, but I am only doing this for a while. Afterwards, I will get back to what I originally planned.” I still believe the first part, wholeheartedly. I do not think of ministry as my career. It is a calling, a mission, a life of service mandated by a higher authority. But if that older sister in Christ was not a prophet, it seems quite clear that I am not one either.
My entire adult life has revolved around the Lord’s Day and the Scriptures. Every week since I was 20 years old, I have spent most of my waking hours preparing sermons and Bible class material, visiting saints in their homes and hospitals, sharing the gospel, leading Bible studies, counseling broken and disobedient people, and praying for God’s blessing on it all. If I had joined the Army instead of entering the ministry, I would be able to retire by now with a pension. I do not plan to ever retire from preaching. If the Lord wills, I plan not to. Maybe someday I will write the great American novel and become financially independent of the local church, or there may be a rich uncle (who has not written me off for becoming Reformed) who will remember me in his will. I suppose most ministers dream of never having to take another dime for preaching the gospel, even if their compensation is appropriate and biblical, but I know that however I keep food in the pantry and lights on in the house, my vocation will remain the same. It took about twelve years of full-time preaching for me to finally understand and accept the fact that God made me a preacher. I tried to quit, many times, during those first twelve years, and I am sure some people wish I had succeeded. But I did not choose to become a preacher, at least, I did not make that choice independently. The Lord chose this vocation for me, and whether that ministry lasts twenty-five more minutes or twenty-five more years, he will be the One who decides when it is finished. Soli Deo Gloria. –JME
