Licensed Ghosts: Navigating the Two Sides of Ministerial Calling
Photo by Mark Lopez
But when he who had set me apart before I was born, and who called me by his grace, was pleased to reveal his Son to me, in order that I might preach him among the Gentiles, I did not immediately consult with anyone. (Galatians 1:15-16 ESV)
Ministry can be a lonely place. A few months ago we were discussing these lonely aspects of ministry, especially as they relate to ministry calling and preparation. As Melissa shared her own story, she said something that stood out—“I felt like a licensed ghost.” It is the feeling of having an appointment but also of not feeling seen or valued. If you are in ministry, you have probably experienced this feeling.
We decided to co-write this article, sharing Melissa’s story and some of the lessons learned during that experience. Our desire is to encourage ministerial students who feel alone to look to the One who called them. We also want to remind those overseeing the development of ministerial students—whether churches, pastors, or committees—to intentionally exude and demonstrate value for them.
(Melissa and Kenny serve appointments at First Wesleyan Church in Gastonia, North Carolina.)
Melissa’s Story
Known and Affirmed
In 2020, I sat at a table with fifteen ordained ministers, my husband, and my senior pastor after completing seminary classes and serving time as a ministerial student in the Nazarene Church. I was interviewed about theology, my home, spiritual disciplines, and my call story. They wanted to see me. After what seemed like the longest fifteen minutes of deliberation, I walked back into the room to a unanimous vote of approval. I received my district licensing.
The Nazarene Church affirmed my calling. The leaders of my denomination saw something in me that I was unwilling to even see in myself for many years. They sought God for wisdom and discernment. They knew the long road I had taken to say “yes” to God. I had surrendered and said, “Okay, God, I hear you. Here I am.” Though the process was intense, I was surrounded by men and women who affirmed me in my calling and led me well. I felt valued and supported.
The Realm of Feeling Unseen
In 2023 I transferred to my home church in a sister denomination, where I assumed the process of ordination would be similar. After mishandled paperwork, forgotten emails, and the realization that I was not officially on record in this new denomination as a candidate for ordination, it was finally time for my interview. The interviews took place on Zoom where we were divided into breakout rooms. The only question asked was “How will past ministry hurt shape you in your current ministry?” That was it. Based on my answer to this question I received my licensing recommendation. I left the interview feeling confused.
Meanwhile, my appointment responsibilities became less and less till I was no longer asked to pray, read scripture, or help with communion. Communication between me and the church’s leadership was nil, and there were no other pastors on staff that I felt I could reach out to. If there was a line of communication or a pastor for pastors, I was not aware of who this was.
Then, during the 15th anniversary of the church where I was serving, I realized how disconnected I had become from the church and people I desired to serve. The anniversary celebration was massive, complete with a photo montage from the past 15 years. I was flooded with emotion. I walked through the party searching for a place to help but no job was given or asked of me. My kids grew up here, and I desperately wanted to serve and be seen by these people. As more and more people began to arrive I felt increasingly alone, unseen, and without purpose. I called Shane, my husband, who was away for schooling in the Army Chaplaincy, and said, “I feel like a licensed ghost.”
After the event, I spent weeks wallowing. I felt guilty and ashamed for feeling this way and then felt guilty and ashamed for feeling guilty and ashamed.
Only be Strong and Courageous
At that time, my daily Bible readings landed in Joshua. As the Israelites prepared to enter the promised land with its presumed obstacles and challenges, the Lord commanded Joshua four times, “be strong and courageous” (Jos 1:6, 7, 9, 18). For a time, “be strong and courageous” stayed on repeat in my prayer just as it had been in the passage. I read further, “Consecrate yourself, for tomorrow the LORD will do amazing things among you” (3:5 NIV). I held on to those words, feeling that they were especially for me.
That same week, while the Lord’s words to Joshua were still fresh in my heart, I was on the phone with Shane. We were listening together to the sermon of the Army Chaplain who preached that day, where Shane was in training. The chaplain began to read aloud from Joshua 3:5, the very passage I had been holding on to! I felt as if God was saying to me what he said to Joshua, “Consecrate yourself, Melissa, for I will do amazing things.”
In my kitchen I dropped to my knees. I began sobbing and crying out, begging God for mercy and forgiveness. I had been confronted by the realization that my focus was on myself. I had become trapped in a cycle of woe.
I felt as if Jesus was before me and he was telling me to stand up and walk. There was no more time for wallowing. Like the paralyzed man in John 5:8-9 it was time to take up my mat and move. It was he who called me and he who saw me. He is “the God who sees me.” That day I realized that his affirmation of my calling is what truly matters. I got up and began praying around my home and for my family, friends, and church.
My struggles with feeling unseen did not end, however. Still, I learned to seek the Lord in those moments and he was faithful to answer. He did not always answer in ways I expected. Sometimes he responded in ways that forced me to face the truth of what his calling required in the way of my sacrifice. I had to reject the lie of impossible obstacles.
I was reminded that I am his. I am known, loved, blessed, and favored by God. I am called by God! I learned my calling is not contingent on man or what man asks of me or how man sees me, but on God alone.
During that season I returned to these loving admonitions from my Father over and over because while my spirit was alive and enlightened to the assurance of God’s call in my life, the circumstances around me continued to deteriorate. However, I moved along these circumstances with a new, Spirit-filled confidence that man cannot and will not take away.
“Let No One Disregard You”
No doubt there are a thousand stories like the one shared above. It is doubtful that anyone entering into ministerial work has avoided these birth pangs.
Yet our hearts break for ministerial students who, in following God’s call to ministry, feel like licensed ghosts, having titles and appointments, but who feel unseen by those entrusted to lead them through the process. Our hearts also break for ministerial processes in local churches and broader structures that, for whatever reason, neglect the personal side of ministerial preparation and end up disheartening those discerning a call.
Paul put great stock in his calling as originating from God and not from men (Gal 1:1, 11-12), and he passed this attitude on to Timothy and Titus, whom we might describe as ministerial students under the tutelage of Paul.
Don’t let anyone look down on you because you are young, but set an example for the believers in speech, in conduct, in love, in faith and in purity. (1 Tim 4:12 NIV)
Declare these things; exhort and rebuke with all authority. Let no one disregard you. (Tit 2:15 ESV)
We do not want to draw an equal parallel between Paul’s context and ours today, but we do want to mine these texts for helpful corrections to human tendencies. We also do not want to suggest that it is okay for people to commend themselves as suitable for leadership in the church when God has not genuinely called them to ministry (2 Cor 10:18). The processes of licensing and ordination are meant to protect candidates and churches from abuse and misdirection.
With this in mind, Paul’s words speak to us from both sides of the dilemma and add an important third side we will highlight below.
On the one side, the letters speak to those of us who might find occasion to “look down on” a ministerial student for various reasons such as age, gender, ethnicity, or economic standing. For Titus, though, Paul used a word that carries a slightly different concept saying “Let no one disregard you,” but with no qualifiers such as age, etc. Sometimes the reason may be related to the candidate (as in age or gender) or sometimes to the person disregarding the candidate (as in pride, lack of time, or personality). Either way it is clear that “looking down on” or “disregarding” ministerial students should not be the case.
Our intention here is not to parse every possibility or to attribute blame. In fact, in writing this article, I, Kenny, am well aware of a number of times that I have failed to attend to or treat seriously those attempting to fulfill their calling under my care. Perhaps I had an excuse or perhaps not, but the pain and consequences remain.
Where we can, we need to remedy our processes both at the local and systemic levels. The trends in ministerial education and preparation have been to move away from personal engagement and away from apprenticing modalities in favor of efficiency and sometimes financial sustainability. For many, ministerial development is a very lonely road.
On the other side, the letters are addressed to Timothy and Titus and therefore say something about the response of ministerial candidates to these sorts of situations. Paul did not tell the Ephesians to stop looking down on Timothy, but he told Timothy to stop letting this get in the way of the calling. He had a job to do, and it is before God that he is responsible to do it. The calling of the Gospel on our lives cannot wait for the world to see us and support us. We are reminded of the words of Elizabeth Elliot regarding the missionary work of Amy Carmichael.
If it were possible to poll all the missionaries who have worked in all the world in all of Christian history, it would be seen that missionary work, most of the time, offers little that could be called glamour. What it does offer, as Amy wrote to prospective candidates in later years, is ‘a chance to die’…. (Elliot, A Chance to Die [Baker 1986], 176)
There is a version of “church hurt” that applies to ministerial students. This is undeniable and, we suspect, unavoidable in many ways. But sanctification of the ministerial calling takes place when we allow God to pull us aside, refix our gaze, and point us toward the mission, allowing the legitimate need for human guidance and assistance to fade into the background of his glorious calling.
Lord, give me cheerleaders and guides, if at all possible, but if not, show my feet where to move.
Sometimes those who ought to be our greatest supporters turn out to cause us the greatest harm. Paul describes this type of situation in his own ministry (2 Tim 4:14). One wonders if Paul’s response was not a backdoor way of modeling for Timothy how to handle this sort of adversity.
At my first defense no one came to stand by me, but all deserted me. May it not be charged against them! But the Lord stood by me and strengthened me…. (2 Tim 4:16 –17 ESV)
There is a third side that Paul teaches us as well. It is Paul himself. However the people may treat Timothy and Titus, it is clear that Paul was a confidence-building voice in their lives. “You’re going to suffer, but press on regardless.” Paul’s way of leading Timothy and Titus should cue us in to the impact of that third voice, the voice of someone whose calm and courage instructs the ministerial candidate through the fog and shadows, helping them tune their ears to the voice of the Almighty saying, “only be strong and courageous.”
There was a time when I, Kenny, spontaneously and on short notice, adopted two special needs children. The decision produced a lot of criticism from those guiding me in my licensing process. I was told that I could not both pastor and bring that sort of chaos into my life. Out of nowhere a mentor called and said, “Kenny, we need more people like you who will do what is right spontaneously without regard to the cost.” Those words were life for me.
A Word of Encouragement
To those ministerial students who lack encouraging voices in their lives, let us be that voice for you today, insufficient as it is.
Take a moment, stop, and look up and see what God is doing in you during this season of feeling unseen. Turn your gaze away from your disappointments and your emotions and be reminded of God’s calling on your life. If possible, do not wait for a mentoring voice to find you but step out and ask for one who can speak truthfully to you. And finally, be okay with God sanctifying your life and calling within the wait and wilderness. It is here that God does some of his best work in our hearts. Only be strong and courageous!
Melissa Beauvais and Kenny Johnston serve appointments at First Wesleyan Church in Gastonia, North Carolina.