It’s all in how you read the word.
Ministry.
It could mean a formal, official, structured program, or it could describe spontaneous, informal service. You could think of it as what you have to give to others to make their lives better — and you could think of that proudly or arrogantly or anxiously or naturally or even selfishly. Do you think you have no needs, or that you can keep people at a comfortable distance by only giving to them and never receiving, never letting them into the secret places of your life? Do you think you can turn aside God’s wrath or manipulate his favor by serving others, or do you fear that he’ll only love you if all you ever do is serve? Maybe you minister in order to keep up your holy self-image or to win the approval of others in your church.
Or maybe ministry is just what happens as you live your life before God.
I remember in college, the general feeling among the Christian students seemed to be that ministry was a central question in the matter of choosing a spouse. If you could envision a shared ministry, then maybe marriage would be okay. As if the whole point of marrying was to better carry out ministry. What a recipe for guilt and resentment! I think it’s great when couples have a shared ministry, but I can’t imagine making that the sole purpose of marriage, nor a requirement among other marital purposes. It seems to me instead that each spouse is to love the other — love in the deep, rich, broad sense, not just the emotional fluffy stuff we have so little control over. And that in the process of learning to love this way, marriage provides for our sanctification and also represents to us and to those around us a picture of Christ and the Church.
The husband and I do not have any official shared ministry. I used to be involved in youth ministry, but that’s not the sort of service that suits him. (Yeah; I think the best ministry is the ministry that suits your gifts, skills, and passions. Sacrifice is often necessary and good, but you shouldn’t choose a ministry just because it’s an opportunity to make sacrifices!)
Youth ministry is partly a formal, official, structured program. There are weekly meetings, outings, Sunday school, with lessons, activities, etc. But that’s really just the shell, the scaffolding in which the real ministry happens, as the students and leaders get involved in one another’s lives.
I don’t feel ministered to by a program, or the leaders of a program, unless they become my friends. The kind of ministry that I can receive is to be loved well — to be accepted, understood, known; and to be allowed to accept, understand, and know in return. In other words, to be in relationship. Then when something official like a Bible study or a talk or a discussion about doctrine comes up, in the context of that relationship, I’m far more likely to pay attention and look for what I can learn. The primary ministry, for me, is the friendship — any official lessons learned are secondary, at least until they become integrated into our lives.
Now I’m a musician. Most of what I do is instrumental background music — playing at weddings, or busking at the Farmers Market or on the Commons.
Is this ministry?
I don’t preach or hand out tracts or survey the audience about their spiritual lives. I don’t usually sing, either, so there’s no message in words in the performance.
What I think I’m trying to do is simply make beautiful music. I think simple beauty can be a blessing. It can give a moment of rest or refreshment to folks who are having a rough day or have just been working hard without much time to themselves. It can give a glimpse of transcendence, which just might spark some spiritual response — the Holy Spirit can use music to move someone to seek him.
I try to talk to folks who have questions about the instrument or the music even if I’ve heard the same questions many times before. Or chat with folks who just want to chat about dulcimers or music. Fairly often people will tell me they have a dulcimer, too, and so I’ve been able to connect these folks with one another by organizing a dulcimer club. Being able to get together with other dulcimer players can be refreshing and exciting and fun, especially for folks whose dulcimer has been under the bed for years, who have felt isolated and without resources. I also teach privately, helping, I hope, people to make music which can be healing, moving, or simply fun.
So… while I don’t typically think of what I do as ministry in any official sense, I suppose the word can fit. Maybe the same is true of the ordinary things you do in the course of your work or home life.
