A few days ago, I wrote about a period during my Romanian sojournings that I refer to as the “Letdown.” My responsibilities in the village church had been dramatically reduced, mainly because of a fall-out between my home church and the village pastor.
During this stressful time, I rarely spoke of my feelings regarding the issues between me and the village pastor or between my church at home and my church in Romania. At times, keeping quiet was a challenge. But I did not want to cause problems or dissension in the church.
Eventually, some people began asking questions. Some began asking why I was not as involved. Realizing that I could not avoid at least some discussion of the events, I decided to meet privately with the most prominent elder of the church. He was one of the most devout and spiritually minded men that I’d ever met – never one to cause dissension. Never one to lend an ear to gossip or talking. I knew if I were to speak to anyone, he would be the one.
My feeling “underused” in the village, and also the possibility of being seen as “money” brought this unofficial and undisclosed meeting between the two of us. He was wise and knew something was wrong, but he had not been filled in on what exactly had transpired between the churches.
What encouraged me most about our brief meeting was that neither of us spoke negatively about the pastor. It was not my intention to question the leadership, even though I felt hurt by some of the pastor’s actions that spring. It was not my intention to speak badly of anyone, only to address my concerns to the elder, who had been asking me why I was no longer speaking in church. I knew that I would have to explain to him the fall-out between my church and his pastor. My purpose for working in the village was not to bring money. My purpose was to work with the youth. It needed to be clear.
The elder quickly realized what was going on. There were some problems sweeping through the church, and I was getting bogged down into issues that were not really mine to begin with. He encouraged me and told me to continue on in the work, to not let these problems take away our joy and courage, and to continue in our work with the youth, for God was truly working among the young people there. “Do what you can, Trevin,” he said. “Leave the money issues aside and just do what you can.”
The elder’s words sustained me during the upcoming months of village work. The relationship between my home church and the village church was never quite the same. The relationship between me and the village pastor needed some work too, but we pressed on together toward a common goal. By this point in my Romanian ministry, I felt like I was in over my head. That’s why the counsel I received was so beneficial. No one should underestimate the importance of wise counsel.
