When a fistfight broke out in the fellowship room after a Sunday service, every punch felt like the final blow. The little Methodist congregation had just observed the Lord’s Supper—Communion, the Eucharist, the invitation to partake of Christ’s body and blood and celebrate being part of Christ’s body the church. Then they filed downstairs, where instead of sharing fellowship they exchanged fisticuffs.
The next Sunday, only eight parishioners were present for the morning service. Four of them were the pastor and his family. You didn’t need to be a certified accountant or mathematics genius to understand the story the numbers were telling. The church looked defeated.
The pastor, the Rev. Wes Neal, felt defeated a well, or at least exhausted. Just a few years earlier, he had been the pastor of a large, thriving church in California. He felt loved and supported. God seemed to be growing the church numerically and spiritually. They tell you in seminary not to expect pastoral ministry to be endless happiness and victory, but serving this church felt fulfilling and joyful. Plus, the weather in southern California was amazing.
His wife, the Rev. Dr. Jerusha Matsen Neal, had discerned God’s calling to do doctoral work on the east coast. Neal believed his calling was to support her as part of their shared commitment to ministry. Once in New Jersey, the bishop suggested that he take on a small, struggling congregation where a faithful few from eight countries of origin held on at the edge of collapse. He became the pastor for about a dozen people who wanted to be part of a church but weren’t sure they wanted anyone new to be in the same church with them. Plus the weather in New Jersey was terrible.
After nearly two years, attendance had doubled to about 30. Then the altercation seemed to erase it all.
Do I Have to Stay?
Neal had scheduled a pastoral retreat, which happened to be shortly after the fight in the fellowship hall.
“I went on that retreat with the questions, Do I have to stay? Can I just quit?” Neal said. “And God responded in a powerful way through two things. One, the retreat chapel had a San Damiano cross, from the Francis of Assisi tradition. It's a crucifix, and Jesus’ face looks like he's very much present in that moment, but also not overcome by that moment on the cross.
“The second thing was that my spiritual director at the time suggested reading 2 Corinthians. When I got to chapter 4, I saw something I’d not grasped before, which was that Paul was not writing from a place of strength and control. Paul was writing from a place of profound weakness. Those words, from the start middle of chapter 4 through the middle of chapter 6, were like a letter written to directly to me. You're not alone in this. You're not the first person who's gone through this.
“I came home with the answer, ‘My grace is sufficient.’ I understood that God's intent was for me to stay at this church and keep working at this place.”