The Denominational Employee as Spiritual Thermostat: On Being an Agent of Spiritual Renewal

Note: This essay was originally titled “The Associational Mission Strategist as Spiritual Thermostat” and was presented by the author at the Century Associations Network breakfast as part of the annual meeting of the Southern Baptist Conference of Associational Leaders (June 11-12, 2023) – New Orleans, Louisiana. Click here to obtain a PDF copy of this essay with a selected bibliography.


Pastor Sam (not his real name) and I have been meeting weekly for three years. My desire for Sam has been to encourage him in his faith – an active faith – rooted in his personal awareness of the presence of God and in the promises of God found in His Word. Sam recently recalled a ministry moment where his faith overcame his anxiety:

I was going through a difficult time in my pastorate… conflict had broken out into the congregation during a business meeting. I was discouraged. One morning as I was driving to meet you, I passed by a local business in our community where some church members gather to drink coffee. All the vehicles in the parking lot belonged to the people that were blaming me for the problems in the church… Seeing the vehicles gathered together created a moment of fear and anxiety due to their recent behavior… I remembered our conversations about trusting God to fight for me. By the time I arrived at our meeting, I had peace… I trusted that God was fighting for me as a pastor even if others were gathered against me.[1]

Sam was articulating a perspective on ministry that is both freeing and desperately needed. Sam was no longer in charge. Resolving the problem was no longer resting on his shoulders. As an exercise of faith, he had transferred “ownership” of the circumstances back to the Father.

Pastoral Pain as a Loss of Meaning

Several years ago, I had the first-time experience of stepping onto a treadmill as part of my annual physical. Draped with wires recording my heart’s response to stress, I walked and ran and climbed with determination as the doctor purposefully – and to me somewhat sadistically – adjusted the speed and incline of the treadmill. I worked hard. The sweat was pouring off me. I pushed through the discomfort. I gave it my all. But when it was over, I found myself still in the same place! For all the energy expended, I ended up exactly where I started. I hadn’t moved. I didn’t go anywhere. Nothing had changed.

The experience of ministry for too many of the pastors and church leaders we serve is like a treadmill. During each weekly cycle of duties, a pastor studies, visits, counsels, speaks, plans, and leads. With enthusiasm and fanfare, he carries out churchwide events and campaigns. He attempts to cast vision, engage volunteers, and hold meetings. Yet, when pausing long enough to conduct a personal cost-benefit analysis, he often wonders whether the benefits have been worth the cost. No matter what he does, he seems to wind up right back where he began, and genuine progress by whatever metric seems to elude his grasp. The experiential outcomes of this ministry treadmill are painful and predictable: an inner malaise, compassion fatigue, boredom, high turnover, discouragement, depression, burnout, and a growing vulnerability to moral failure.

Pastoral Pain and Leadership Expectations

The pastoral pain associated with the ministry treadmill is intensified by the incessant bombardment of external and internal expectations that if a pastor is smart enough and works hard enough, he can build a large successful church. Leadership expectations of pastors have mushroomed over the past thirty years. In the early weeks of the pandemic, I posted a blog describing the seismic shift in what pastors are expected to be and do.

I’m old enough to recall when “leadership” became the latest buzzword among pastors. The key to being a good pastor was to become a good “leader.” I won’t bore you with the history of how it happened, but gradually we replaced “discipleship” with “leadership” as a primary pastoral objective. Ironically, the seminary that pioneered secular leadership studies for pastors shifted their focus within a decade and moved on. But the damage was done.

I believe the shift occurs when we depart from following Jesus (the core activity of a disciple) and begin to apply secular organizational definitions and metrics to the church. Pastors and staff are expected to “bump the numbers” and get more bodies in the building. If not, they are “failing.” Period. Time to get a new pastor.

The unintended consequences of the shift have been brutal. Pastors now struggle with the weight of crushing expectations from culture, from the church, and from themselves that are unbiblical and untenable. Overwhelmed and desperate, shepherds are shamed into silence. Life is endured – it is never ‘abundant.‘”

We need to rethink what we are asking pastors to be and do, but most of us won’t. And consequently, I believe that we will be facing an unimaginable, heart-level tsunami of pastoral pain in coming years. This is only the beginning. We’ve got to change the conversation.”[2]

The problem of pastoral pain is the single greatest challenge facing denominational leaders today. As a result of their close proximity and regular access to pastors, denominational leaders are in an excellent position to offer support to pastors who are aware that their current approach isn’t “working.” However, to be helpful, denominational leaders may need to rethink how ministry happens for themselves. I am convinced that ministry needs to be reconsidered in light of the indwelling presence of the Holy Spirit.

Rethinking How Ministry Happens

Addressing a deeply divided fellowship of first-century believers, the Apostle Paul alludes to two different approaches to doing ministry. He writes:

And I, brethren, could not speak to you as to spiritual people but as to carnal, as to babes in Christ. I fed you with milk and not with solid food; for until now you were not able to receive it, and even now you are still not able; for you are still carnal. For where there are envy, strife, and divisions among you, are you not carnal and behaving like mere men?” (1 Cor. 3:1-3)[3]

Paul uses the words “spiritual” and “carnal” of Christians. The recognition and responsiveness to the indwelling Holy Spirit differentiate the two groups.

According to Paul, carnal believers are “behaving like mere men.” They are living out of their own resources and are not exhibiting any signs of being influenced by the Holy Spirit in their actions or words. The consequences for the fellowship include “strife” and “divisions.”

In contrast, the spiritual believer is someone who has adopted the new life that the Holy Spirit makes possible. The Holy Spirit, and our relationship with Him, is the most important predictor of our personal well-being, moral integrity, and ministry effectiveness. Jesus made a promise to His disciples that He would not leave them as “orphans” (Jn 14:18), and fulfilling that promise, the Holy Spirit enables a new way of living by establishing a vital union with Jesus.

Jesus used the analogy of a vine and a branch to explain how this new relationship through His Spirit would lead to effective ministry. He said,

Abide in Me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in Me. I am the vine, you are the branches. He who abides in Me, and I in him, bears much fruit; for without Me you can do nothing.” (Jn 15:4-5)

Jesus is illustrating how the new life leads to effective ministry. Jesus, the vine, provides all that is necessary for us, the branches, to produce fruit. By itself, the branch can’t produce anything. If the branch stays intimately connected to the vine, it will produce fruit. If the branch is not bearing fruit, more effort will never help to solve the issue. In their messaging and modeling, many pastors and church leaders are pouring out their lives on the wrong end of the branch. The command is to abide in Christ, not to produce fruit!

The new life is about experiencing a meaningful and ongoing relationship with Jesus. He wants this relationship with you. The way I approach ministry should reflect this inner reality and draw others to want the same. Oswald Chambers said it this way,

The main thing about Christianity is not the work we do, but the relationship we maintain and the atmosphere produced by that relationship. That is all God asks us to look after, and it is the one thing that is being continually assailed.[4]

Ministry fruitfulness becomes a supernatural consequence of following Jesus – and helping others to do the same – rather than an exhausting exercise of self-determination and self-reliance.

Becoming Agents of Spiritual Renewal

Most people looking at my work history would consider me a denominational insider and a champion of organizational effectiveness. Many of you have the same reputation. During a denominational assignment, I frequently wonder, “What am I doing in this work that truly matters?” I’ve realized that the answer to that question has less to do with being an organizational problem-solver, and far more with being a reliable and supportive friend in Christ.

Describing the denominational leader as a “spiritual thermostat” emphasizes the crucial role he plays in the spiritual lives of pastors and churches. By consistently reflecting the message of new life in Christ through his personal approach to ministry, he can actively influence the spiritual condition of the churches as a spiritual thermostat, rather than just react to it like an institutional thermometer. Our legacy will not be defined by our professional accomplishments, but by the unscripted moments when we impacted someone’s life with Spirit-directed words or actions.

How do we become spiritual thermostats? Simon Peter illustrates the process. After fishing all night without success, a weary Simon consents to a request from Jesus to let down his nets – to try again. As a seasoned fisherman, Simon is certain that the fish aren’t going to be there. They just don’t run during the day; that’s why they were fishing at night. But because Jesus said to do it, Simon overrides his personal judgment and professional expertise and does it. Immediately, fish fill up the nets. Simon’s crew calls out for assistance from another boat, and soon both vessels are so full of fish they are about to sink!

Simon turns to Jesus and falls down in front of Him, saying “Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord!” (Lk 5:8) Simon is doing two things simultaneously. First, he is humbling himself before the Lord. Simon’s expertise and experience are rendered insignificant in the presence of Jesus’ majesty and power. All that matters is what Jesus is thinking and whatever He wants to do next. Like the tax collector in the parable, Simon sees nothing in himself that he can trust anymore, and he can only cry out for mercy (Lk 18:9-14). Second, he is signaling his readiness to yield entirely to the ruling presence of the Lord. Prostrating at the feet of someone during ancient times was a sign of surrender, meaning you would no longer fight and that you had been completely defeated.

If you’re familiar with Simon Peter’s entire story, you understand that humbling oneself before the Lord is not a one-time event for anyone. This process of getting self out of the way so that God can minister through us is ongoing and incomplete on this side of heaven. Like Simon, you might be afraid that the Lord wouldn’t want to use you. It is precisely at the moment you feel least qualified that you need to hear what Jesus said to Simon next: “Do not be afraid. From now on you will catch men.” (Lk 5:10) Jesus is saying, “Simon, because you have humbled self and given your life to Me, I want you to know that I am going to use you to influence and capture the hearts of men in the same way that you just caught two boatloads of fish.”

Simon was promised by Jesus that he would be a “spiritual thermostat,” able to impact the spiritual condition of others. What did Simon contribute to the process? He discovered his place at the feet of Jesus through humility and surrender. We need to go there too. Mercy and grace await us at His feet. The more we meet with Jesus and He satisfies our longings, the more our hearts are shaped by His. Our longing to be with Him and His longing to be with us become a reality we can experience. It is through our ongoing fellowship with Jesus that He works supernaturally through us. The life of the Vine begins to flow through the branch to produce fruit.


[1]Email to Don Pucik, June 2, 2023. Used by permission.

[2]Don Pucik, “Leadership Expectations as a Source of Pastoral Pain,” EquippingSaints.com, May 14, 2020, https://equippingsaints.com/2020/05/14/leadership-expectations-as-a-source-of-pastoral-pain/.

[3]All scripture quotations are taken from The Holy Bible: The New King James Version (Nashville, TN: Thomas Nelson, 1982).

[4]Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest: Selections for the Year (Grand Rapids, MI: Oswald Chambers Publications; Marshall Pickering, 1986), August 4th – The Brave Comradeship of God.

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