#151: On Ministry Hogs
What They Are and Why It Matters
An Uncommon but Real Problem
One of the three most basic yet crucial tasks of local church ministry is to convince people that they have a spiritual gift and train them to use it effectively. If we fulfilled this task more faithfully, it would cure most of our spiritual ills.
It wouldn’t be difficult to identify and lament the many obstacles to fulfilling it. Of course, merely identifying and lamenting wouldn’t remedy them (even if the exercise provided some short-term, emotional release for frustrated leaders).
Instead, think about a different aspect of the “healthy body” aspiration that Christians should have for their churches. Sometimes people don’t exercise their gifts for reasons besides ignorance, laziness, fear, or selfishness, even if these are the most common culprits. Sometimes people don’t use their spiritual gifts because other Christians wrongly exercise their gifts.
This problem materializes for several reasons. First, one member believes himself best suited to fill a ministry vacuum. He steps into it, which can have the unintended consequence of crowding out others with similar abilities and interests.
Of course, it need not be this way. It’s both spiritually and practically reasonable that two people could express similar gifts in the same context. Two are better than one, Ecclesiastes says. Moreover, some (most?) problems or needs are far too big for one person to tackle.
However, a second form of the problem can overshadow the value that two bring to the table. Sometimes a church member is especially self-conscious of their spiritual gift (let’s say service). They then allow eagerness and/or selfishness to apply that gift to a broad range of situations in the church that arise. This ends up nudging other people aside.
More often, I have found, the eager beaver tends to pounce on a situation. Their quick response to appeals for help effectively discourages the involvement of others. This works itself out in three interrelated ways, at least from the perspective of leaders.
First, because leaders tend to value efficiency (“Let’s just get this need met.”), we’re happy to let the person go ahead and take care of the need. Whether it’s moving tables and chairs, putting together gift bags, or preparing crafts, the coordinator/leader just wants to get it done. If Cindy Lou says she will take care of it, then great.
The second problem is that people who otherwise would volunteer to help take the lead need not do so. Cindy Lou already has it covered! Even if the other volunteer tells her they’ll help out, Cindy Lou often has a very specific way she likes to do things, so she’d rather just do it herself. Even if she’s willing to take on the help, the other volunteer often assumes a more limited role in meeting the need.
Another version of problem two is that people come to rely on Cindy Lou to take care of things. This might frustrate them because they never can seem to find a way to serve. Or they grow comfortable with the arrangement. They’re happy for Cindy Lou to take care of things. Then we’re back to one of the typical excuses people have for not serving: laziness. Sure, Cindy Lou helped enable their disengagement. But that was only true initially. Gradually, people become comfortable with merely existing in a ministry without ministering.
The final stage of the problem is that Cindy Lou becomes a downright ministry hog. I know this seems like a crude expression, but we already deploy it quite effectively in another domain: basketball.
What do you call a player, professional or amateur, who never passes the ball? A ball hog. What do call a Christian who never shares ministry stewardship with others? A ministry hog.
Even if the problem often originates in eagerness, it always ends in selfishness. And everyone loses in a church characterized by selfishness.
Michael Jordan didn’t start winning NBA Championships until Scottie Pippen and Phil Jackson showed up, though he scored a ton of points prior to them. Similarly, don’t expect for ministries to flourish when ministry hogs are allowed to run wild.
We need to help people to see that the goal is seldom running faster. We want to run farther. As the old adage goes, if you want to go faster, go alone. If you want to go farther, go with others.
Don’t tolerate ministry hogging. Identify it, understand it, and confront it. Do so gently, but firmly. Help the ministry hog to see that God’s best involves every member and every gift.
The eye cannot say to the hand, “I have no need of you,” nor again the head to the feet, “I have no need of you.” (1 Corinthians 12:21)
I’ve written about books and reading far too many times to count or mention here. Reading is a discipline and recreation I continue to learn about as I glean the wisdom of others.
Lately, I’ve benefited from some of historian Thomas Kidd’s observations about writing and reading. In a recent article, he responds to “The One Hundred Pages Strategy,” a now widely circulated piece by Matthew Walther. Its title is self-explanatory: you should aim to read one hundred pages per day, and here’s how you can do it.
Kidd affirms the impulse behind this approach, but he provides some context and cautions that I think are wise and practical. One agreement between Kidd and Walther that’s especially important is focusing on pages and not the sheer number of books read. You could run through quite a few paperbacks in the time it would take you to read War and Peace or Les Misérables, but you’d probably have accomplished more by reading the two massive tomes (lots of pages) than reading 4 or 5 times as many books.
In a somewhat similar vein, Jared Henderson offers “9 Reading Ideas for 2025.” The piece is simple and helpful. I think #9 is the one most of us should heed: Actually Read the Books You Buy!
Matthew Lee Anderson’s writings at The Path Before Us (and elsewhere) always challenge me, even if I sometimes disagree or can barely decipher his prose enough to know what I think. Yet I frequently mention him at Churchatopia because I think he is a type of Christian writer we need to hear from.
His recent reflections on drawing near to God and decluttering our lives have resonated deeply with me. Here’s an excerpt:
2024 began for me with my (then) pastor announcing that we would be pursuing a “year of simplicity” as a church. My year concluded with me taking the concept more seriously than he might have intended: I resigned from nearly every ‘side project’ I have been involved with the past decade, in order to try to focus on work that might prove more fruitful for the next twenty or thirty years of my life.
Cleaning out the cupboards of our intellectual, emotional, and spiritual lives is only the first and easiest part of the task we have been given, though: the real test is whether we can fill them with the kinds of goods that allow us to live with a deep and durable joy—and whether we can preserve the order of those goods so that our lives will be marked by tranquility and peace. We must walk the path of negation, stripping away the clutter that so easily gathers to us. But the void only brings to the surface of our souls other more subtle, hidden pathologies that have been present all along. It is not enough to simply say “no” to these as well: we must find new goods to immerse ourselves within, which are deeper and more enduring than those we have left behind.
. . . The restlessness of the soul cannot be overcome by anything other than: meeting God. There is only one thing necessary: to hear from Him and, upon hearing, to attend to Him with our whole heart and mind.
This is why it is not enough to embrace simplicity because we are tired or overworked or even because we want to invest ourselves in projects that we hope are more fruitful in 30 years than those we are currently undertaking: such reasons are the right reasons to quit things, but those right reasons only supply us with the occasion and opportunity for the real satisfaction our soul depends upon. It profits a man nothing if he gains the whole world but loses his soul—but it also profits a man nothing if he loses the world for the sake of his soul, but somehow misses God in the process. The one thing necessary is not quietness or contemplation or quitting Netflix or anything else, but—God.
Read the full piece at “The ‘One Thing Necessary’ in 2025”, or just go ahead and subscribe to The Path Before Us for the very reasonable price of $20 per year.
Every church I have attended rejected the prosperity gospel outright. Growing up, I was taught that adversity wasn’t to be feared, that poverty and sickness were not signs of failure on my part or a lack of favor on God’s part. I didn’t feel entitled to affluence and knew God was good even when my circumstances were not.
But despite my well-constructed theology of suffering, there were elements of the prosperity gospel’s values that felt vaguely familiar to me. While I did not believe that God was a vending machine for material abundance, I did expect God to make me happy—to bless me spiritually and experientially—if I followed him well.
I knew God may not grant me physical things like health and wealth, but he was supposed to at least bestow intangible goods like fulfillment in work, meaning in ministry, and a joyful intimacy with him, along with a sense of purpose and comfort in my suffering. I assumed that if I believed all the right things, I would feel the right way.
But what I’ve come to realize is that this is, essentially, an emotional prosperity gospel—a sacrosanct rendition of “the good life” ideology that has subconsciously crept into our popular theology. Its tenets are well-known to many of us: Discover God’s will for your life, grow close to him, and you’ll feel a sense of contentment. Make godly choices and peace will be the norm and pain an aberration.
I’d lived in the shadow of a cosmic equation, in the formula If this, then that. Give this, and you’ll receive that; sow this and you’ll reap that. Cause and effect. My seed money was my theological wisdom, good behavior, and right choices. And the return on my investment would, at least, be deep and abiding joy.
Amanda Held Opelt, “It’s Okay to Have an Unhappy New Year.”
Michael Crichton, Pirate Latitudes.
Anthony Esolen, Ten Ways to Destroy the Imagination of Your Child.
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