In that haze between sleep and the dawning of a new day, when your brain attempts to grasp what day it is, there is a moment when you realise . . . it’s a Sunday! In that split second moment, where is your heart? Where is your mind and where are your emotions?
Are you eager to meet the day with action? Are you frantically ticking off the jobs you need to complete before church? Do you experience the stomach-clenching dread of facing situations and people you feel ill-equipped to deal with? How we feel about Sundays will vary each week. Some weeks will feel more challenging than others depending on our tiredness, encouragement levels, and other factors.
I’d love to say that I’m the ‘jump out of bed with joy’ kind of pastor’s wife, but sadly that’s not true. I’m not bad at the jumping bit but the joy part often eludes me.
One recent Sunday morning before church, I read these words from Isaiah.
If you keep your feet from breaking the Sabbath and from doing as you please on my holy day, if you call the Sabbath a delight and the Lord’s holy day honourable and if you honour it by not going your own way and not doing as you please or speaking idle words, then you will find your joy in the Lord, and I will cause you to ride in triumph on the heights of the land and to feast on the inheritance of your father Jacob.’ For the mouth of the Lord has spoken.
Isaiah 58.13-14
I was struck to the heart. If God expected Israel to find delight in the Sabbath, he must surely expect Christians to delight in the day when we meet regularly with his people!* But delight was far from how I felt that morning, and this had been the case every Sunday morning for a long time. It’s not that our church context is especially challenging at the moment, or that our church places unattainable demands on us as a family. How had my attitude towards church slipped so far from delight? I was aware that over time I had begun to view Sundays in an increasingly negative light. Why?
Sometimes it’s obvious why we develop negative attitudes towards church services. Tricky pastoral issues, challenging people, and the anticipation of negative reactions to our ministry—these things can take their toll. In addition, the low-level warfare known as ‘getting our children to church’ can tire us out before we’ve even left the house. When you add in the preparations necessary to host a gaggle of students for lunch after the service, along with countless other tasks, well, it’s draining.
So, we can be physically tired, and perhaps emotionally vulnerable, but why should that turn our hearts from delight to dread? Surely something else is going on. Here I could remind you that church is God’s very good idea; that we are called to serve, and that church is a privilege that many don’t have. But I’m not sure that such reminders are helpful. In fact, if you find yourself dreading the Sunday routine, they may just leave you feeling more guilty.
WE’RE TOO BIG
My suspicion is that often our dread of Sundays springs from the fact that we have become too big. As in, too big for our boots. We’ve begun to believe the lie that the ‘success’ of a Sunday service relies on us and our ministry. We’ve come to believe that we must expend more energy than we can spare to preach or teach in a way that changes hearts. We’ve told ourselves that it’s our responsibility to greet every newcomer in such a winsome manner that they’ll be sure to return. It’s all up to us. And when we’re discussing an issue with an awkward member of the congregation, we’re failing unless we speak with the persuasiveness of St. Paul.
Deep down, then, we don’t trust God. Not really.
We don’t believe that he can produce fruit unless we’re performing at the top of our game. Nor can he heal us from the bumps and bruises we receive in a life of ministry.
I’m not arguing that we shouldn’t do our best on a Sunday. But at what point do our prayers move from asking the Lord to work through us in our weakness to asking him to make Sunday go smoothly? Sometimes a subtle shift occurs and we find ourselves asking God to give us a problem-free day instead of trusting that he will bring glory to himself and fruit among his followers through the messiness of a Sunday.
Is his power and freedom to work wonders in human hearts really constrained by the amount of sleep we’ve had or how coherent we are on a Sunday morning? Have we made the assumption that God’s ability to bear fruit in his people is limited by our energy levels and platform skills? God is at work, building us into a spiritual house to be a holy priesthood (1 Pet 2.5) and we can be confident he will complete this good work (Phil 1.6).
WE ARE ALSO NEEDY
As I reflected on my dread of Sundays, I realised that I had forgotten that I am as much in need of church for my own growth as everyone else. Somehow, our lives in ministry (Phil’s and mine) had caused me to think in terms of ‘us and them’. We do ministry. They receive it. But that just isn’t true. Something much more wonderful is taking place. God is working in us and through us and he’s doing the same thing inside everyone else. We’re growing together; we’re becoming spiritually mature. Together. After all, we’re a body, as the apostle Paul reminds us.
God has put the body together, giving greater honour to those that lacked it, so that there is no division in the body but that its parts should have equal concern for each other.
1 Cor 12.24-25
‘Them and us’ thinking assumes that God is only at work in church as we minister well. It places a tremendous burden on our energy and skills. But worse still, the more we become aware of our weaknesses, the more we’re tempted to put on the mask of professionalism. We do this in the vain hope that somehow our frailties will go unnoticed.
At some point, the mask will slip.
So, why not just take it off? Forget the pretence and come out into the light. There is such refreshment when we acknowledge that any ‘success’ is the work of God. He is the one who is changing us by his Spirit and if others are also changed, well, then that’s his work too. In his kindness and grace, he calls us to partner with him as he produces fruit in wonderful and unexpected ways.
WHERE’S THE LOVE?
Over time, you would expect our love for our churches to grow. If only it were that simple. Sadly, relationship breakdowns can occur, past wounds still hurt, and weariness can set in.
I’ve spoken to several pastors’ wives recently who are struggling with frustration at just how slow their congregations are to change. ‘What else can we do to help them change?!’ they cry. Ministry over many years can lead to compassion fatigue and a loss of excitement once felt at the start.
How do we restore this love for our congregation?
In my early years as a pastor’s wife, I would pray regularly for each individual in the church as part of my devotions. It’s harder now that we’re in a larger church and somehow this practice has slipped off my agenda. Our church has grown such that I’m not entirely aware who is a regular anymore! It’s become tempting to disengage emotionally, since the numbers are so daunting.
In response to this, a wise pastor once encouraged me to love a few people in the church well. Do to the few what you wish you could do for the many. I took this advice to heart. I decided to meet with a small group of women with the aim of sharing our lives together and praying for each other. Doing this has greatly enhanced my love for them and has helped me feel less overwhelmed.
SLOW BUT NECESSARY WORK
I knew I needed to break the grip of Sunday dread. So, I started by repenting of my wrong heart attitudes and skewed perspectives. I will confess that it’s been slow work at times. I’m still working on it. I can testify, however, that taking time to delight in the Lord and his goodness has worked wonders in my heart. Nowadays, I like to remind myself that however Sundays pan out, God is still on his throne and he is still at work. By committing each moment to him instead of lurching my way through the day, I have found so much more peace and contentment.
I may never be someone who positively springs out of bed on a Sunday, but recently, I’ve spent those moments immediately after waking more profitably.
I now hand the day over to the Lord. It is his day, after all.
I trust him to fill it with good things.
As I prepare for the busyness that lies ahead, my heart is less concerned about the ‘success’ of the day, and more eager to see God at work.
In others and in me.
For his glory.
* I am not commenting here on the debated question whether Sunday is the ‘Christian Sabbath’. My focus is simply on our attitude to Sunday gathered worship and Sundays in general.