When I was a student in theological college we had a lecture from an older and wiser minister who saw it as part of his job to manage our expectations. I always remember one thing he said about pastoral visiting. "There will be times when you walk up to a front door in fear and trembling at what faces you inside. And an hour later you will walk out knowing you have done no good at all."
I've thought about that a lot since – and several times during my ministry I've experienced it. There are situations of absolute tragedy that the presence of a minister can do nothing about. You walk out leaving the situation just the same as it was when you walked in.
That's not, of course, entirely true – as our lecturer explained to us. It's true that the bereaved remain bereaved, the sick remain sick and some people's mental or emotional disturbance is too deep to be touched by an arm round the shoulder or a few words of reassurance. But more often than not, I saw that touch or those words, a halting prayer or a tear, could change something. Perhaps it didn't change it at the time – it may have been days or weeks later – but the presence of one of God's people opened a channel for His grace to flow.
I recall another lecturer I heard on a refresher course when I was some years into ministry. He had words of encouragement for those of us who were riven with guilt at not having achieved more or tried harder: "Always remember you do far less harm than you think you do, and far more good than you think you do."
My examples are drawn from ministry, because that's what I did. But when Jesus said to his disciples, "You are the light of the world" (Matthew 5:14) he was speaking to all of them. We are all called to be light in dark places. We are called to come alongside those in the darkness of grief, sickness and sin, and bring them the light of Christ. It's surprising what good He can do through us if we make ourselves available to him.
Follow Mark Woods on Twitter: @RevMarkWoods
