By DAVID EPPS
Pastor

After nearly thirty years of bring in the “people business,” for that's what ministry truly is, I finally have come to the conclusion that I have a few worthy thoughts to share. It's not that I'm the brightest bulb in the socket, I've just been in the socket a long time.

These few things that I would venture to share are, I believe, applicable not only in the ministry, but in life, work, family, and in other places where we encounter people. I have two questions that I ask myself when the situation turns sticky. These are vital questions and the asking of them has spared me a great deal of heartache and the ignoring of them has cost me dearly.

The first question is this: “Is this hill worth dying for?”

Military leaders are well aware that some territory is strategic and worth the sacrifice while other ground is unnecessary and not worth the cost in casualties. Some people believe that every hill is worth dying for. These people refuse to consider other points of view, argue their point long past the time when anyone really cases, and see each issue as a matter of principle.

These people, to put it bluntly, are stupid. Sometimes, the issue is not principle but pride.

A number of years ago, I was the pastor of a church that needed new restrooms. The church, set in the lush valleys and hills of Tennessee was a beautiful white frame structure with stained glass and a bell tower. The rest rooms, however, consisted of two outhouses on the rear of the church property.

Spring and autumn seasons weren't terribly uncomfortable, since the weather was mild, but in the summers, the outhouses were hot, muggy and smelled. In the wintertime, worshippers often had to trudge through the snow, and enter a frigid toilet in the howling winds, to do their business.

At the church board meeting, after an elderly lady had finally gotten weary of freezing to near-death in the outhouse, action was taken. The church voted to build two indoor restrooms, one for each gender, and close the ancient outhouses.

All was fine until the board decided to cut my salary by a few dollars a week in order to have the money to relieve (excuse the pun) the distress of the congregation. It's not that I had the few extra dollars to spare, either.

In the end, however, I decided that the issue wasn't worth dying for and held my peace. Whenever I wasn't able to buy enough groceries, I took some small comfort in knowing that little Miss Mattie could potty in style!

On the other hand, when, in a Southern congregation a few years later, a powerful board member said, just after my arrival as pastor, “You know, pastor, this church isn't ready for black people to worship here,” I knew that the issue was one of spiritual life and death. I also knew that he was deadly serious. After a moment of silence, I replied calmly, “Well, it's ready now.”

The battle lines were drawn, but the issue really was one of principle, one, over which, I was ready to lose my job, if it came to that. This hill was worth dying for. Within a few months, he was gone, black people were in attendance, and the whole church was better for it.

The second question is this: “Is my dog in this fight?”

In east Tennessee, when I was a boy, nearly everyone had a dog that ran loose due to the nonexistence of leash laws. A couple of times a week, a terrible sound could be heard throughout the neighborhood as dogs fought it out over territorial rights.

If you owned a dog, you would run to the window to see if your dog was in the fight. If so, it behooved you to run into the midst of the fray and rescue your dog. If not, you went back to whatever you were doing. No sense in risking getting torn up by vicious dogs if it wasn't your dog in the fight.

In the late 1970s I worked as a counselor of a state agency. One of our coworkers resigned and, later, tried to get his old job back. He was having difficulty getting rehired, so, having faith in the quality of his work, I took up his cause.

I made phone calls and wrote letters to superiors. I spent a great deal of time pleading his case for him. In the end, he did not get rehired.

When promotion time came a few months later, I was passed over, much to my shock and dismay. It seems that I had unknowingly gotten into the middle of a power struggle and that dog jumped up and bit me! And my dog wasn't even in that fight.

However, there have been times when I have waded into the middle of a situation, risking the wounds, because I did have a stake in the outcome. The cost of losing was unthinkable and the consequences too great to sit on the sidelines and simply listen to the howls of the battle. Then, no risk is too great and no honorable person can refuse to do what is required.

In any event, these two questions have served me well and continue to provide guidance for action or inaction. May they help to reduce the causality rate of unnecessary hills and futile dog fights.

[Father David Epps is a priest and founding pastor at Christ the King Church. He may be contacted at FatherDavidEpps@aol.com or www.ChristTheKingCEC.com.]

Back to Opinion Home Page | Back to the top of the page