I was talking recently with a pastor who described a session retreat they had just led. They spoke about the excitement the newly elected ruling elders and deacons were bringing into the life of the church. As we talked, the energy in their voice rose. Their face lit up. Their joy was contagious. It felt genuinely good to witness a pastor animated by ministry and hopeful about the life of the church.
More than a dozen times in my ministry, I have had the experience of walking with congregations through closure and dissolution. It is a privilege to sit with a session as they pray, grieve, and faithfully discern a difficult future. In Ending with Hope, Beth Ann Gaede reminds us that churches, like people, “are born, grow, age, get sick, may recover, and die.” Presbyterians speak of the closing of a church as a dissolution. When done well, a congregation’s life does not simply end; its resources are released into the wider church and community, where resurrection can be cultivated, and new life emerges in unexpected ways. In my experience, churches rarely close because they lack money. Far more often, they close because they no longer have the physical or emotional energy required to continue.
Energy is important.
In the life of the presbytery, I see energy emerge when pastors, chaplains, and institutional leaders gather together. A recent gathering hosted by Jana Blazek at Corner Bakery offered space simply to be present with one another, to laugh, to be encouraged, and to remember that none of us practices ministry alone on an island. A similar dynamic unfolds at Presbytery assemblies, where worship, decision-making, learning, and fellowship intertwine. Our vision statement carries the tagline Connecting people, churches, and neighbors in Christ. Lately, I’ve been offering another tagline that captures what happens when we gather: We have fun! And that is more important than we sometimes admit.
We are living in a season with more problems than solutions, more challenges than consensus. Much of ministry, perhaps seventy-five percent of it, lives in the daily grind of crisis response, administrative drag, and competing demands. That work is real, necessary, and often exhausting. But there is also the other twenty-five percent, the part that generates joy, play, laughter, creativity, and renewal.
Here’s some encouragement for you: focus on what brings you energy and make room for it. This is a wonderful act of faithfulness. Energy isn’t something we can afford to ignore in ministry; it’s a clear sign of life. Caring for it might be one of the most faithful ways we can nurture our calling for ourselves, for the church, and for the gospel that’s still growing among us.
Rev. Dr. Craig Howard
