Nobody likes to talk about death, but two recent events have directed me to this topic.  First, a Time magazine article entitled “The Light of Death” captured my attention.[i]  The essay is one woman’s story of what she learned through her father’s death.  While the understanding of death in this article demands biblical critique, these words grabbed me:

“I asked a doctor what makes the difference [in how people handle death], once the battle is out of her hands.  ‘Fear,’ she said, ‘and regret.  Take those away, and what’s left is peace.’” 

“Fear and regret.  Take those away, and what’s left is peace.”  Those words echoed through my mind when I later attended a memorial service for a 12-year-old girl who died tragically in an accident.  Many of us listened as the grieving Christian parents spoke of having no regrets about how they raised their little girl, a young girl whose life was marked by a deep passion for Christ and a great desire to see others follow Him. 

I have no fear of death, as I am certain that He who saved me will also keep me (Eph. 1:13-14, Heb. 12:2).  I cannot say, however, that I have no regrets. Many of those regrets relate to my years as a senior pastor prior to my becoming a seminary professor. 

I regret that I did not consistently seek accountability for my spiritual disciplines.  I found it easy to emphasize the importance of Bible study and prayer, but I often found it hard to carry out these disciplines.  The “stuff” of public ministry sometimes interfered with the private work out of which real ministry should occur.  I can only wonder now what blessings I missed when doing ministry in my own power. 

I regret that I invested little time in mentoring as a pastor.  No one taught me about mentoring until I heard Robert Coleman, author of The Master Plan of Evangelism, speak in a class I was leading.  Now I know that it is difficult to read the New Testament and not see mentoring as a primary means of disciplemaking.  I am certain that I overlooked opportunities with young men who were waiting for their pastor to help them grow in their faith.  

I regret that I failed to lead my church to make mission trips a priority.  Our church had weekly missions education, held annual missions studies, and invited missionaries to speak - but I did not yet recognize the value of doing missions.  Were I pastoring today, I would lead at least one trip annually and pray for God to call our finest members to the mission fields of North America and the world.

I regret that I did not fully recognize the importance of being a role model.  I knew that the pastor is to be an example, but I did not realize how important that role is.  Years later, I have seen that a church is unlikely to exceed its pastor in at least three critical areas: holiness, evangelism, and prayer.  The pastor who wants his church to make a difference will clearly model Christ in each of these areas. 

I regret that I did not study leadership enough.  With the Bible as our guide and our filter through which we read other books, we can still learn much about leadership from others who have led before us.  I would have been a better pastoral leader had I read more in that field.   

I regret that I sometimes placed ministry before my wife.  Never has my wife complained about serving with me in ministry.  If she were honest, however, I am certain she would admit to feeling as if she sometimes took second place in my life.  I deeply regret that truth. 

I regret that I did not consistently set evangelism goals.  I realize the controversy of setting evangelism goals, but I am not speaking primarily of results.  I wish I had established as a pastor the goals I have set now: to pray daily for at least five non-believers, to be in intentional relationships with at least two non-believers at any given point, to speak daily to someone about God’s goodness, and to share the gospel with someone at least weekly.

“Fear and regret - take those away, and what’s left is peace.”  My peace today comes not in ignoring the regrets listed here, but rather in living now in such a way that further regrets are few.  Simply stated, ministering in the light of death should change the way we minister.  

[i] Nancy Gibbs, “The Light of Death,” Time (24 April 2008).  Accessed at http//:www.time.com//time/magazine/article/0,9171,1734819,00.html.