"Not Against Flesh and Blood..."
There is an unspoken battle that every pastor faces—a battle not against flesh and blood, nor merely against the seen forces of ministry challenges, but against the quiet entanglement of identity and calling.
We pour ourselves out week after week, leading, preaching, shepherding, and yet, somewhere in the journey, the lines blur between who we are in Christ and the role we fulfill in the church. This struggle is especially profound in seasons of success and in times of failure, testing the depths of our self-awareness, spiritual resilience, and dependence on God.
I wrote Leading Through Storms to address the weight that pastors carry, particularly in times of crisis, but the issue of identity in ministry is not only relevant when storms rage. It is just as critical when the sun is shining. Whether we are experiencing overflowing pews and financial abundance or dwindling attendance and personal fatigue, the temptation remains the same—to define ourselves by the outcome of the ministry rather than by the immutable truth of our identity in Christ.
The Dangerous Illusion of Ministerial Success
When the church is thriving, when attendance is up, giving is strong, and lives are visibly being changed, there is an almost imperceptible danger creeping beneath the surface. The applause of men, the invitations to speak, the sense of accomplishment—all of these can subtly shift our sense of worth. We may begin to believe that our success is a direct measure of our value, that God’s favor is somehow quantified by numbers and influence.
But the truth is, success can be just as deceptive as failure. If our identity is tethered to results, we unknowingly place ourselves on a performance treadmill where our value becomes dependent on maintaining a certain level of ministerial achievement. Jesus warned against this kind of misplaced identity in Luke 10:20 when He told His disciples, “Do not rejoice that the spirits submit to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven.”
When our greatest joy comes from the work rather than the Worker, from the ministry rather than the Master, we set ourselves up for an inevitable fall. The moment the numbers decline, the invitations lessen, or the momentum slows, we are left questioning our worth, our calling, and sometimes even our faith.
The Soul-Crushing Weight of Ministerial Struggle
On the other end of the spectrum, struggle and hardship in ministry can feel like an indictment against our very personhood. When attendance drops, when conflict arises, when fatigue sets in, pastors often take these realities personally. It is not just the ministry that is struggling—it feels like we are failing.
This is one of the great lies of the enemy: that a struggling church equals a failing pastor. Yet, if that were true, then Jeremiah, the “weeping prophet,” who preached for decades without seeing national revival, would be labeled as unsuccessful. If that were true, then Jesus Himself, abandoned by His disciples at the cross, would have to be considered a failure. But we know better. Faithfulness is not measured by visible results alone.
Even the apostle Paul faced discouragement. In 2 Corinthians 1:8, he confessed, “We were under great pressure, far beyond our ability to endure, so that we despaired of life itself.” These words should resonate deeply with pastors who have felt the heavy burden of ministry. The weight of shepherding, leading, and carrying the expectations of people can feel unbearable. And yet, Paul continues in verse 9, “But this happened that we might not rely on ourselves but on God, who raises the dead.”
Could it be that our struggles in ministry are not signs of failure but invitations to deeper dependence on God? Could it be that the stripping away of external success is, in reality, a divine mercy—an opportunity to remember that we are not what we produce?
The Subtle Idolatry of the Pastorate
One of the most dangerous temptations for pastors is to unconsciously allow the pastorate to become an idol. It is a subtle idolatry, one that doesn’t announce itself with golden statues but with unchecked busyness, an addiction to affirmation, and an inability to rest in God apart from the work of ministry.
We must remind ourselves that being a pastor is not the totality of who we are. Before we were ever called to lead, we were called to be sons and daughters. Before we ever stepped into a pulpit, we were invited into communion with the Father. Our first and highest calling is not to the pastorate but to intimacy with Jesus.
Moses struggled with this tension when he faced the burden of leading Israel. In Exodus 33, God offered Moses the Promised Land but warned that His presence would not go with them. Moses’ response must be the posture of every pastor: “If Your Presence does not go with us, do not send us up from here” (Exodus 33:15). The work of ministry, no matter how fruitful or impactful, is worthless apart from His presence.
Practical Steps for Pastors to Reclaim Their Identity
Recenter on Relationship Over Role
Before being a pastor, you are a child of God. Make time for prayer, worship, and personal devotion that is not sermon preparation but simply being with the Father.Develop Healthy Boundaries
Guard against the temptation to find worth solely in your pastoral duties. Have relationships outside of church leadership. Make space for hobbies, rest, and sabbath.Seek Honest Accountability
Surround yourself with trusted voices—mentors, counselors, or pastoral friends—who will remind you that your worth is not contingent upon your ministry’s visible success.Embrace Seasons of Ministry
Every ministry goes through cycles. There are seasons of great growth and seasons of pruning. Do not despair in the pruning; God is doing a deeper work.Reaffirm Your Identity in Christ
Regularly remind yourself of the foundational truth that your value is in being His, not in what you do. Preach the gospel to yourself as faithfully as you do to others.
Final Words to the Pastor
Pastor, hear me—your identity is not tied to how well your church is doing. You are not the sum of your sermon downloads, attendance numbers, or leadership accolades. You are not defined by the criticism or the praise of people. You are God’s beloved, called by Him, sustained by Him, and your worth is anchored in His unchanging love.
Success in ministry will come and go. Struggles will arise and pass. But if you anchor yourself in Christ rather than the pastorate, you will stand firm through every season. The storm does not define you. The applause does not define you. Jesus alone defines you. And in Him, you are enough.