A Word for the Overwhelmed, Tired, Weary, and Burdened: Jesus Cares More About You than What You do for Him

The more John(*not his real name) shared the more I felt for him. Setting up a time to meet for lunch had been difficult. This one appointment had only happened after three previous requests had gone unanswered. Now, as he shared more about what his life had been like in the two months since we last spoke, I felt a swell of empathy for him. Sheepishly, he had just said, “So… I’m not sure what my involvement is going to look like this semester.”

Immediately, I was transported back in time. Now, instead of sitting in a Panera as “the leader” of the ministry in question, I was a college senior sitting in my campus ministers’ office. Frustrated, I was finally unloading all of the ways I felt like I had tried and failed. I had reached the end of my self and, for me, that was saying something. Asking for help had never been a strong point. But here I was. Overwhelmed. Tired. And needing to find some form of understanding, care, and encouragement to persevere.

I didn’t get what I was looking for that day. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t be the last time that I went to a ministry leader in similar circumstances needing similar things only to leave more flabbergasted and frustrated than when I had entered. By the time I graduated from seminary I had internalized the idea that I was only valuable in ministry contexts insofar as I produced results. Lead the small group. Plan the outreach. Write the curriculum. Preach the sermon. Do all these things and you are valuable to the church and the kingdom. But starting to feel overwhelmed or burnt out? That’s just something you have to learn to push through.

A Familiar Feeling

“You know I care about you more than I care about what you do for the ministry, right?”

Back in the present moment, the question caught John off-guard. “What?” was all he managed.

“I care about you more than I care about what you can accomplish or do for InterVarsity,” I repeated.

Silence. A mix of confusion and early-stage relief mixed across his face.

I explained that, while I obviously wanted things to happen through the ministry on-campus this year, my primary concern with those who had said “Yes” to leading in said ministry was their development as whole-people who follow Jesus. “You’ve been through a lot this summer. It sounds difficult. And while I would love to have you involved this fall, only you can tell me if that’s something that would be best for you.”

He still wouldn’t make eye-contact with me.

I remembered the feeling.

An Unexpected Gift

Interviewing for ministry jobs is difficult. I’ve never felt good at it. So every time I get into a ministry interview setting I’m a little on-edge.

This interview was no different. After getting through the first two stages, I was now in the field-visit stage of the interview. It was the last step. Come check out the ministry, spend the day with the campus ministers, meet some students, check out the town. It felt like everything was being evaluated: how did he dress? How does he interact with his wife? Is he friendly with the students? Too friendly? How does he react to plans changing?

The senior campus minister saw right through me. After spending a few hours with him that morning, he gathered my wife and I for lunch. Climbing in his vehicle he casually glanced at me and said, “You know we think you’re great, right?”

I had no answer. What kind of test was this? Better question: how do I pass it?

He pushed through my silence: “We know you can do this job and do it well. We just want to get to know you so we can care for you well.”

It’s a Pattern

I spent the remaining time with John assuring him of my care for him regardless of how he followed through on the commitment he made. I assured him that what I cared most about was his wellness: physical, emotional, relational, and spiritual. If the circumstances of his life had changed and he felt like he could no longer live up to his commitments that would stink for me, but I trusted him to honestly evaluate how his life had changed and make needed adjustments. No matter what he decided, my commitment was to him and I intended to follow-through with it if he would allow me to.

I had the same conversation with a different group of students two weeks later. I asked our leadership team how I could be praying for them leading up to the semester. One student quickly volunteered their concern over burnout. I halted the meeting and shared my commitment to their wholeness and wellness to the entire group.

There were tears of relief from more than one student.

Not The Way It’s Supposed to Be

While I’m grateful for the opportunities to have conversations like this with students, I’m saddened by how surprised and relieved they are to hear my words. Like me, they’ve had experiences with ministry leaders where they didn’t find relief from burdens but exhortations to follow through with commitments, questions regarding the sincerity of their faith, and even open doubts about their love for Jesus. Mind you, none of these allegations from leaders stemmed from any confessions of moral failings or profound spiritual doubt/struggle from students. All resulted from the sharing of burdens they weren’t sure how to bear under their current loads. They all (and I) had been burdened to the point of feeling like they were unable to go on.

And yes, an inability to say “No” is part of the problem. Most college students and young adults I know do not fully understand that they have actual physical, emotional, psychological, and spiritual limits that extract a toll when crossed. At the same time, their ministry leaders have done little in helping them understand this fact beforehand. They also tend to precipitate the discovery of said limits then do little but heap on guilt instead of helping them recover from the fallout.

I don’t blame ministry leaders entirely for this. Some are under structural pressure to see numbers increase. Failure to grow is seen as a cardinal sin for which they may lose their job. Good volunteers can be difficult to come by, so when you get a good one you tend to give them all the responsibility they want and sometimes more. I’ve been guilty of this myself. But the whole structure tends to chew and spit out an alarming number of people.

Brothers and sisters, this should not be so.

The Easy Yoke

Following Jesus was never meant to be easy. Serving Him even less so.

But somewhere along the way, either because of structural pressure or internalized beliefs, it seems that many ministry leaders have bought into the expectations of CEO Jesus over shepherd Jesus. CEO Jesus wants churches and ministries to always be active, growing, engaged. CEO Jesus operates through mid-level managers that communicate His words and desires for him. CEO Jesus is about accountability and growth.

Shepherd Jesus has purposes to accomplish. He wants to grow His flock, but He will also leave the 99 to find the lost sheep. He calls to His flock and they know His name, meaning He spends time with them, speaks with them, and wants their connection to be primarily to Him. Shepherd Jesus is about care and connection.

I received a gift that day as the senior campus minister unburdened me from the weight of finding value and validation in performance. It has been a joy to pass that gift on to others struggling under burdens that begin to skew their perceptions of who Jesus is and what He wants for them.

We still have a mission to accomplish, yes. Jesus is still seeking and saving the lost, yes. He calls us to participate in that and gives us ministries to lead, people to engage, and places to serve, yes.

He also tells us that His “yoke is easy and His burden is light.”

May we discover and lead others in the easy yoke of Jesus.