Several years ago I spent a couple of hours with a newly minted seminarian that our church was thinking about hiring. We talked about why he wanted to be involved in church ministry, about the dreams he cherished, of what he might do with his life and how he might serve God. Toward the end of the conversation he turned to me and said, “I just hope I’m able to last in the ministry as long as you have.” I was, at that time, in my mid-forties.

Sadly, we could not find a place on our staff for him. But I have often returned to that conversation in my mind. In particular, I think about what it is that enables people to last in church ministry, and I have a candidate for the number one commodity which I would not have guessed when I was starting out.

I think what most enables people to thrive in ministry is not their giftedness, although effective ministry always requires alignment around spiritual gifts. It is not education, although theologically reflective leaders are sorely needed nowadays. It is not resources or connections or IQ or support systems, although those are all good things. What makes an enduring and healthy ministry possible is hope.

It is an unforced consistent conviction that somehow God is at work in the midst of our efforts, and that therefore they are not in vain, and that therefore no barriers or obstacles have the power to nullify the significance of what we do. “Against all hope, Abraham in hope believed and so became the father of many nations…” (Rom 4:18)

We are four-leaf clover collectors. We wish on the evening star. We tell stories about genies coming out of a bottle to grant three wishes. We are all hopers. We are the creatures who cannot stop wishing. Where that came from I have no idea.

Why is hope so central? Neil Warren, the founder of eHarmony, spent much of his career counseling with and studying married couples. He once said that his primary goal was to help even deeply troubled couples get as little as ten percent improvement. Because, he said, once people see improvement, they gain hope. And hope is the indispensable fuel for all human action. When hope dies, motivation dies. There is no longer any reason to try anything. But once hope enters a marriage – or a church – anything is possible. I can delegate a lot of ministry tasks. But one item I cannot delegate is hope. People want to know if the leader possesses a sense of what Gordon MacDonald has called “vital optimism.” And that one I cannot delegate.

Hope Detection

So I have had to learn how to monitor some hope indicators, to give me a kind of early detection system so I know when hope begins to run low. One indicator is how I face the morning. Clinical researchers say that mornings are generally the times when anxiety and depression are most likely to run the strongest. There is a reason why the Scriptures say God’s mercies are “new every morning.” (Lam 3:23) When I find myself waking up feeling overwhelmed by the tasks to be done during the day, I know hope is running low. Another indicator is what I think of as recovery time. Nancy and I went off for a great two weeks vacation a few years ago, and when we returned I still felt like I had not even been gone. When a few weeks off do not recharge my batteries, I know hope is in short supply.

When my hope tank is full, I have energy for outside activities. When my hope stash is dwindling, taking on anything new feels like a drain. Also, I find that my emotional sensitivity in relationships tells me something. During one hope-depleted era, an elder asked to meet with me. She wanted to commend me for something. I had suspected the encounter was going to be painful; when it ended up being positive I was so relieved that I had to fight back tears. Even though I am a feeler, having tears that close to the surface is not a good sign.

Hope Management

I have also had to learn how to arrange my life so that I can keep filling up on hope. Partly this means I have to watch out for hope-killers. No encounter with another human being is purely neutral on an emotional level. Every conversation I have with someone else either fills me up with a little more hope, or drains a little of it away. This is especially true in an arena like church ministry, where “need” is part of our currency, and where evaluation is often public and relentless. So I will tell you about a few of the types that I have identified among the hope-challenged:

The Contrarian: This is the person who believes no idea is so sound that a hole cannot be poked in it. When he hears a suggestion, his reflexive response is to cite times in the past when similar ideas did not work, and further reasons why it would not work in the future. He may not be ill-intended, but…

The Alarmist: This person is deeply wired into the life of the congregation. She has become a kind of lightening rod for every concern. And wherever there is a troubled soul, she becomes a megaphone. The underlying subtext in a conversation is: “there’s real trouble going on around here. I don’t know what you’re going to do about it, but it’s a good thing I’ve uncovered it.”

The Critic: This is the person whose ministry is to evaluate your ministry. Usually it’s a self-appointed role.

The Cynic: It is a little-talked about but widely known reality that churches – and often church staff – tend to breed cynics. Sometimes, I expect, it is because those of us who lead, live with such a wide gap between our words and our souls. But cynicism is the gift of prophecy gone sour. Cynics sap our hope because they believe the worst without calling for the best.

The Hype Machine: This one surprised me. This is the larger than life character who loves to “build people up.” When I am with him he tells me wonderful things about me and what I can accomplish. And while our conversation lasts I find myself all pumped up. But I deflate quickly afterward. Because his words are not really built on truth (which is often painful), but on creating a “motivational experience” which is the emotional equivalent of Jolt cola – a quick energy buzz followed by a crash and burn.

And I know about all these categories; partly because I carry them around inside me. I need to listen to these voices, and learn from them, and love them. But I also need to limit my exposure to them. Especially when my hope gauge is under half full.

And I need to identify those who fill me with hope. I think of my friend Kent. Kent is a hope-giver to me because he does two things consistently. He always speaks truth to me. And he is always for me. I can tell him bad news on the ministry front and he is never rocked. I can tell him good news and he is never giddy. My world is a little more stable because he’s a part of it. I did not realize this for a long time, because Kent’s personality is not a salesman/motivator/Richard Simmons kind of guy. But one reason I am so grateful to him is he gives me hope.

Another part of hope management is something that comes only from being alone with God. There is a wonderful story about David, before he became king. He had lost his wife and family; he had lost his best friend, Jonathan; he had lost his position as Israel’s golden boy; he had lost his home and nation and was on the run from Saul. He did find a little community to lead: “all those who were in distress or in debt or discontented gathered around him, and he became their leader. About four hundred men were with him.” (1 Sam 22:2) You may have served that same congregation. Eventually that group was devastated by an enemy and they “wept aloud until they had no strength left to weep.” (1 Sam 30:4) The men decided that David’s leadership was the problem, and decided to stone him. And these were his followers! But then comes the great verse: “But David found strength in the LORD his God.” (1 Sam 30:6)

One of the most important practices I had to learn about is precisely that one: how to encourage myself in the Lord my God. I find that, on my own, sometimes all I will do when alone with God is to rehearse my own inadequacies and problems. So, as an act of discipline, sometimes I force myself to lay those aside. I read passages that speak to me of God’s love for me. I go to settings where the beauty of nature will remind me of the goodness of God. I listen to music that I love. I write down twenty blessings I’m grateful to God for. I think about what will matter a million years from now, until my current burdens lose their weight. I sleep. I listen. I re-focus from what I’m hoping for to who I’m hoping in.

I remember what a friend of mine, Lew Smedes, used to talk about. That one day every circumstance, every situation that we’re hoping for is going to wear out, going to give out, going to fall apart, melt down, go away. When that happens, the question then is about your deeper hope… about your foundational hope… it is about your fall back hope when all your other hopes are disappointed.

The whole testimony of the Scriptures points to this One Man – points to a God, not because He is able to give us this thing or that thing we were hoping for – because that’s always going to give out eventually – but to the One that we put our hope in.

Hope Investing

Leaders come in all shapes and sizes, in many assortments of gifts and experiences, with unimaginable varieties of backgrounds and stories. But they share one trait: they hope. Doris Kearns Goodwin writes of Franklin Roosevelt that many around him had brighter minds and deeper gifts, but the indispensable contribution he made was his sense of confidence that the American people could defeat the Great Depression or fascism or whatever it was that needed to be beaten. He had “a remarkable capacity to transmit this cheerful strength to others,” who then would return it ten-fold.

Part of my task, then, is to make sure I invest a great deal of time in those who will be hope-carriers. One of the dangers of church ministry is that we drift from hope-creation to complaint-management.

One of the men in our congregation is a wonderful thinker and writer about leadership named Gary Hamel. He met with our leadership team recently to talk about the challenges that face any organization. He said that change is accelerating so rapidly that any organization which hopes to thrive needs to generate (literally) thousands of ideas, out of which will come maybe a hundred worth thinking about, out of which will come maybe ten or so worth piloting, out of which will come one or two that pay off. And what’s needed to generate and sustain that kind of creativity is hope.

So your key task, he said to us, is to engage and enlarge and equip that army of people in your church who will become the pro-future, pro-change contingent. Identify them, talk with them, recruit them, develop them, celebrate with them, and thank them. And I asked myself after that meeting: How much time do I spend with complainer/critics; and how much with hopers/doers?

Where Hope Comes From

One of the ways you can divide up Bible stories is by their time frame. One kind of story is the forty-day story. These are usually “wait-around-and-learn-patience” stories. The Israelites hung around Mt Sinai forty days waiting for the ten commandments; Noah’s family was in the ark for forty days and nights of rain; Elijah spent forty days in the wilderness hiding out from Jezebel. Jesus began His ministry by spending forty days in the wilderness; after the resurrection He and the disciples spent another forty days waiting for His ascension and then the coming of the Holy Spirit. The focus in these stories is on the need for people to be faithful; to persevere. Forty-day stories are slow cooker stories.

But there is another kind of story: the three-day story. These are stories about crisis and urgency – microwave stories. The focus here is not on the need for a human response at all. Here the pressure is so crushing that God must show up to the rescue or it is curtains. Three-day stories are stories of desperate need and anticipation and hope hanging by a thread.

When a hero named Joseph was in prison, he said to Pharaoh’s cupbearer, “Within three days Pharaoh will lift up your head and restore you to your position…” (Gen 40:13)

When Israel was trapped in slavery, Moses asked Pharaoh, “Let us go a three days’ journey into the wilderness…” (Ex 3:18, ESV) When the Israelites arrive at Sinai, God says, “Go to the people and consecrate them today and tomorrow. Have them wash their clothes and be ready by the third day, because on that day the LORD will come down on Mount Sinai in the sight of all the people.” (Ex 19:10-11) And on the morning of the third day, it came to pass.

When Israel was threatened with genocide, a harem girl, Esther, decides that she will fast for three days. Then she will go to the King to seek deliverance for her people.

When Jonah is swallowed and is in the belly of the big fish, want to take a guess how many days he’s there? He’s there three days before he’s released. His prayer the whole time he is in that big fish is, “God, just let me go out the way I came in.” I think that is probably what his prayer was.

When Israel was afraid to go into the Promised Land, God said to Israel, “Don’t be afraid. Don’t be discouraged. Three days from now, you will cross the Jordan to possess the land the Lord has given you.”

The third day was used so frequently in this way that it became a kind of technical expression meaning a time to wait for deliverance.

Right now, things are messed up.

Right now, hope is being crushed.

Right now, hearts are disappointed.

But a better day is coming.

In the book of Hosea, the prophet says it like this, “Come, let us return to the Lord… After two days He will revive us; on the third day He will restore us, that we may live in His presence.” (Hosea 6:1-2)

When it comes to hope, what helps me most is to remember my Ultimate Hope. And my Ultimate Hope is about something far deeper even than the future of the congregation I serve. I can have confidence, but it is not based on convincing myself that the church where I work will “do well.” I don’t hope for some outcome or circumstance – not even for church growth or ministry expansion. I don’t hope for some thing at all, but for some One. I hope for the One who rose on the Third Day.

The Third Day is God’s day. The Third Day is the day when prisoners of Pharaoh get set free. The Third Day is the day the people come to the mountains and the mountains shake and rivers are parted and the people go into the Promised Land. The Third Day is the day when harem girls like Esther face down powerful, giant kings.

The Third Day is the day that prophets like Jonah are dropped off at seaside ports by giant fish. The Third Day is the day that idols like Dagon come tumbling down, and God starts coming home to His people. The Third Day is the day stones are rolled away.

The Third Day is the day a crucified carpenter came back to life. You never know what God is going to do, because God is “God of the Third Day.”

You never know what might happen on the Third Day. I cling to that. I put all my hope in a Third Day God.

John Ortberg is a Pastor at Menlo Park Presbyterian Church in California. He is passionate about “spiritual formation,” which is how people become more like Jesus. His teaching brings Scripture alive and invariably includes practical applications and warm humor. John is the author of many books, including If You Want to Walk on Water, You’ve Got to Get Out of the Boat and The Life You’ve Always Wanted: Spiritual Growth for Ordinary People, and his latest book, Faith & Doubt.

John Ortberg and his wife Nancy will be speaking for the first time in Singapore at the upcoming Eagles Leadership Conference 2009 in July. Check it out at www.leadership.com.sg/ELC_Upcoming.html.

The New International Version of the Bible has been referenced unless otherwise stated.