Climbing the Pastor's Ladder: Holy Ambition and Escaping the Comparison Trap

We pastors don't drive fancy cars or rake in the dough (most of us, anyway). But there is still a temptation to a skewed version of "holy success" that we need to watch out for, the idea that there is a "pastor's ladder" that leads up and up in the eyes of the world and our peers.

As a pastor who serves pastors here at The Pastor's Workshop, I've seen this mistake in myself and others—and this is the first of a short series of posts that point in the direction of a better and more biblical idea of success in ministry.

The Allure and Anxiety of the Ministry Ladder

I want to describe a phenomenon I’ve seen play out over and over again in the strange world we call “Pastorville.” It goes like this… Once upon a time there was a young woman or a young man who fell in love with Jesus. It may have happened at a summer camp or simply through week after week of church… but one day, they experienced the love and grace of God and it changed them. 

Before this, they may have thought of becoming a lawyer or an engineer and becoming wealthy, but now, those priorities begin to shift. “Maybe I’ll become a pastor,” or maybe I’ll go to seminary instead of law school. As those priorities change, so too does the reality of your economic outlook. Bringing in a six-figure salary in your 20s no longer seems likely, but “hey” you say to yourself, “I’m willing to give up the riches of this world for the glorious inheritance of the gospel!” 

And so you go to seminary, you get your degree and you find your first call. You work hard to establish a faithful ministry, and you see some results that are encouraging. But something begins to eventually creep in. You start noticing that some of your peers from seminary and who you’ve met in other churches start climbing the ladder. 

When you first got into ministry, you thought you were giving up the ladder of success, but now you start noticing your peers are moving up a ladder too, only, it's marked by taller steeples and, in many cases, larger salary packages. And then there are the outliers, the former classmates that have started churches that then grew exponentially into megachurches. They’re the ones who get invited to speak at the big ministry conferences. They’re the ones who get the book deals and the invitations to meet with local and national dignitaries, politicians, and the odd celebrity interested in the Christian faith. 

Why We Look Over Our Shoulder: The Comparison Trap

You notice them,  and it’s difficult not to ask the question, “why them? Why not me? I’m just as smart, talented, dedicated to ministry… or at least, I think I am.” 

And maybe the next step is that you give climbing the ladder a go. You’re not selling out, just looking for a bit more impact, and a bit more security for your family. But no matter what you do, no matter how successful you are, you still find yourself occasionally looking over your shoulder to see what your peers and friends in ministry are doing.

The Costs of Unholy Ambition

But, when you look over your shoulder, you see (maybe hear) something else. There are stories. Some from your circles. Others in the news. You hear about broken families, lies and deception, children alienated from their families. Some of the most “successful” Christian leaders are falling apart. And you find yourself asking a question, what does success even look like for pastors and ministry leaders?”

If this sounds anything like your experience, you are not alone. Large portions of this allegory come from my life and the lives of my ministry friends, each of whom are regularly asking themselves the question: what is success supposed to look like for those who have chosen to follow Jesus?

A Holier Ambition: Success is Not Measured by Salary or Size

A few months ago, I was at a pastors’ conference. I love these and hate them at the same time. I love them because there are opportunities to reconnect with great ministry friends, there’s the opportunity to dive into life-giving conversations, and, from a work perspective, to share the vision of TPW.

Along with the good, there is one thing I find nauseating about pastors’ conferences… and that’s that small number who spend the bulk of their conversations bragging about their lives, their pulpits, and their “success.” And sadly, I find that that focus on success, it’s often materially focused.

I was in a conversation with a couple of pastors and each of us was sharing a bit what we are up to, what God is doing in our lives, and this pastor joins the circle and immediately dominates the conversation, talking about his trips to Europe and Hawaii and so on. And while I find it irritating when I find myself in a conversation where someone is clearly trying to show off, to talk about how amazing their life is, I find it doubly sickening when it comes from a pastor. 

Why are we trying to show off how wealthy we are, or how many people attend our churches or how much money is given to our church? Are these the ways we are trying to define our success? Or our ministries as a whole? Are our identities placed in the salary we make in a church? And if we are defining our success by the size of our salaries, then haven’t we lost sight of the goal?

But if it’s not salaries, sanctuaries, or bodies in the pews, what is success?

It’s time for a gut check: how do you calculate success? Maybe you’re not hijacking conversations to talk about your exotic trips or salary—but what do you tend to share with your peers about your church and ministry? Or maybe a better barometer for your measurement of success are your insecurities. How does your ministry not measure up to your own expectations?

Whether or not you feel like you've ever tried to climb the pastor's ladder, I'd wager that you're at least a little affected by the comparison trap—it's a very human problem—affecting pastors and everyone else. We're not only setting ourselves up for misery and burnout, but we threaten hurting our loved ones as we chase something God hasn't asked us to.

I think that one of the big ways in which we get snared is through adopting the world's standards, largely set (in the United States, at least) by the business community. That's the topic of my next post.

Ready to recalibrate your measurements for your ministry? Continue to Part 2.