Grace Thoughts

Tim Kelley: The autopsy of a volunteer. Don't you love that title? I thought it was a great title. If you take a dead volunteer and you cut them open—and I'm looking for volunteers, for anyone that might want to do it—if you take a dead volunteer and cut them open, what diseases would you find in them? What type of spiritual sickness might you find looming in the inner organs of this deceased, dissected volunteer? It's a little gross when you think about it, but I want to look. What are some of these things?

John Maxwell—how many of you know John Maxwell? Big on leadership. He said the most difficult type of leadership is local church leadership. And you think of it. We have church services like this one. Just this service alone, I had to prepare, music had to prepare, the sound had to prepare, media needed to get ready, Sunday school classes were prepared, adult Sunday school classes were prepared, the grounds were prepared, the trash was emptied.

All sorts of work went into this event that we're part of right now. Most of that work was done by volunteers, people that just volunteered to do it. The grounds get cleaned, the grounds' weeds are pulled, stumps are dug out, wires are severed by shovels and things like that by volunteers. We have potluck suppers because that's volunteer cooking. That's why we have volunteers.

A local church ministry functions on volunteers. Now, if we paid everybody, I could tell everyone what to do. "You cook lasagna. You cook lasagna. You cook lasagna." And we could, but I can't. I have to just sort of be at the mercy of the people that bring whatever they have. What leverage do we have over a volunteer? None.

What you have is love. You hope that there's love between you and them. You hope that there's a walk with God on the other side. I've never had a pastor friend that I know of in 30 years that said, "You know, we have a big problem in our church. We have so many volunteers, I don't know what to do with them." I've never heard that. I'd be anxious to hear that, but I've never heard that.

I heard about one of our neighboring churches, a rather large church in the city. As they were coming into Easter morning service, and they had five or six different services, they were 74 volunteers short in the children's ministry alone. 74 volunteers short from having each wave of people coming in and out of the property have their own. In other words, I worked in children's ministry so I wouldn't have to pull a double or triple shift. 74 people they were short.

Now, I think we do pretty good here at Grace Connection for volunteerism. I really do. It's a big property. I've seen it transformed over the last six or seven months. A lot of work gets done. Lots of people have put time in, lots and lots of people. This is not a message complaining about that. It really isn't because I'm just very blessed by the work of this local assembly and what you guys do here. It's impressive.

But what I want to look at is—let me put it this way—of the hundreds of people that I've watched in 30 years of ministry, some volunteer a lot, some volunteer a little. I've seen some really blessed in what they've done and truly built up in their faith. I've seen people find their portion, their place in the local body of Christ, get deeply blessed by being a blessing to others.

I've also seen people get wounded, discouraged, frustrated, angry, temperamental, judgmental, and probably the worst of all, territorial. And again, so this morning, I want to look at what sicknesses, as we perform this autopsy, what sicknesses or diseases have we seen through the years that have infected volunteerism that either makes them sick? And this is the dangerous part: in many cases, the sickness becomes infectious.

If I'm a sick volunteer, I'm very likely to infect another volunteer and make them sick also. And also, what type of mindset, what type of thoughts does it take to be a blessing? Now, with that said, when I was looking around for principles of volunteerism, I used my favorite study tool, it's called Google. I pumped it in. I said, "Verses on volunteerism," and all these pages showed up and it gave me a bunch of verses. I picked a few of them out I'd like to read you.

First Peter 4:10: "Each one should use whatever gift he has received to serve others." That's talking about a specific gift God has given you. And we're going to talk a little bit about that on Wednesday night. "Serve others, faithfully administering God's grace in its various forms." So, it talks about you have these gifts, the same root word there with grace. You have these gifts, and by God's grace, we take these gifts that God has given us and we administer it, we give it to others.

Now, the word here in the Greek is the many sides of God's grace. You have a gift. You all have at least one gift. You may have more than one gift. And whatever that gift is, it could be a gift of communication, could be a gift of administration, could be a gift of helps, which is incredibly valuable. You don't find many people coveting the gift of helps. You'll find people coveting other gifts. They want to do what I do; they want to do something more public, a little bit more glorious than helps.

But it's the gift of helps that keeps local churches moving. That's probably the primary gift that keeps local churches moving. "For we are his workmanship," Ephesians 2:10, "created in Christ Jesus." That word workmanship is where we get our English word poems from. We're created in Christ Jesus for good works—that's talking about volunteerism—which God prepared beforehand that we should walk in them. "Little children, let us not love with word or with tongue, but in deed and in truth," First John 3:18.

Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, "Whom shall I send? Who will go for us?" And Isaiah answers to God's call, he says, "I'll volunteer. Here I am, send me." The simple truth: without volunteers, the diverse ministry of the local church would come to a grinding halt. Last Sunday I wasn't here. We had the guest speaker Baruch was in from Israel. But last Sunday we had on Friday, because we're part of Family Promise, we had a family of five, a homeless family that lived in their car.

They drove from Utah. Beautiful family. They stayed right in those two rooms back there. We set up cots for them, and they slept in two rooms back there. We fed them breakfast, made them lunch, and gave them dinner for two days. Usually, it was going to be a seven-day stint, but they came in on Friday, not on Sunday. Then they went off. Now they're at Northwest Presbyterian. I think they end there today and go to another church next week, helping this homeless family get work and get off the street.

They're already off the streets. They're in a safe environment. Within three months, they'll have jobs and they'll have housing. 75% success rate. Wonderful ministry, proud to be part of it, honored to be part of it. Done on the back of volunteers. No one gets paid; a few do in the administration aspect of it. But people here in this church, you cooked meals, you cleaned those rooms, you volunteered at the center where they go during the day. You did it all.

We took a homeless family—we're just one church out of 14 in Pinellas County—we took a homeless family and because we volunteered, you were responsible with the other 13 churches to take this homeless family and get them housing and employment. And it'll work. Volunteerism's a powerful, powerful force. And it comes, my friend, I hope, through the love of God. Now, volunteerism diseases. What do I find when we cut open this volunteer and we start going through the inner organs of that volunteer?

Number one: My Turf Disease. That's the first thing. This is when I take my role so seriously—I'm not talking about grass or turf like that. I'm talking about, "This is what I do. This is me." And we drive anyone out that's trying to be part of it with us. I've got some illustrations. Some of you remember these days. Pastor Goerwerty remembered back in the old Calvary Chapel on US 19. We had this big old foyer with three doors, and we had greeters. We decided to do cross-generational greeters.

We had young adults greeting people and we had senior citizens greeting people. So, we had some teenagers, and one of my seniors was an 82-year-old lady. She's gone home to be with the Lord now, Dotty Polk. You remember Dotty. I can mention her name because she's in heaven and happy. Dotty loved her job. She just didn't want anyone else to have her job. And so, we'd have the teens, they'd be there with their programs, they were a little nervous.

They come up and hand you a program like that. Dotty would literally cut people off at the door. She'd stand on the outside. And so, if a family would come into the middle door, she'd run over to the middle door. Then they'd come over that door, she'd run back over. And for 82, she was quick. She was like a little ninja greeter. But Dotty would get so upset if somebody else got somebody. And she was determined she was going to get every one of those programs out.

She never really talked to me about it, but I found out later she was so mad because we had other people greeting and not just her. She was infected with that "that's my turf" disease. "This is what I do. This is my turf. You're not going to volunteer; I'm going to do this." Another time I was a young pastor, first couple two or three years of pastoring, wore suits back then in my first church on 62nd Avenue. I'm starting to preach and the ushers are coming around taking up the offering. They'd apparently done counting the offering.

So, this one usher comes back in, I watch him come through the back door. This young visitor, I would say young, mid-20s, early 30s, suit on, dressed very nice, looked like a professional man. He's sitting in a pew in the back and just beginning to get engaged in the message. My usher walked up to him, tapped him on the shoulder—I couldn't hear him—but he kicked him out of his seat. My usher. He's the first guy we buried in the back of the church. Kidding, just kidding, don't get all worked up.

I watched this guy look at the usher, get up, and walk right out the door, right into the parking lot to his car. "That's my turf." It really happens. My friends, this disease gets into our volunteer bloodstream when we derive our identity from what we do and not through Jesus Christ. We derive our identity by my title, by my role. I'm a singer, I'm a Sunday school teacher, I'm an usher, I'm a sound guy, I'm a media person, I do the grounds. We derive our identity from that.

And we are destined for great frustration and will most likely drive a wedge between me and others if I see my role in the local church as my turf. Went to a fundraising dinner last night for Family Promise, and Bobby Petrocelli—some of you might have heard Bobby preaching all over the place. I met Bobby three years ago after he lost Hannah Grace. He was in Starbucks with Chris Cahall, the pastor of The Vineyard Church, a good friend of mine. It was shortly, within 30 days or so, after he lost Hannah.

Bobby Petrocelli—some of you might recognize that name from New England. He's Rico Petrocelli's nephew. Rico was the old shortstop for the Red Sox. That's important to me because I have Rico's autograph in my office, so you can see it after church if you want. He told me his story. He was laying in bed one night and a car came through the side of his house and killed his wife while he laid next to her. That's his story. He wrote a book, 10 Seconds Will Change Your Life. He was there speaking last night.

He went to the hitting museum, Ted Williams Hitting Museum over in Hernando County, and he saw Dom DiMaggio. Some of you, I'm a baseball fan, so I love these names. Dom DiMaggio played for the Red Sox. He wasn't Joe DiMaggio; he played for the evil empire, the bad guys, the Yankees. Everyone knows Joe DiMaggio, married Marilyn Monroe, and he was like a big famous guy. Dom wasn't that popular. Dom was a good baseball player, not as good as Joe, but he was an all-star and had a pretty good career.

Dom was 82 and Bobby Petrocelli shared this last night, saw him and he was so excited because he loved Dom DiMaggio, and Dom knew Rico Petrocelli who played for the Red Sox. So, Bobby runs up to him, says, "Dom DiMaggio, my name is Bobby Petrocelli, this is my name, Chris, and I'm Rico Petrocelli's nephew." Dom just stopped. 82. Said, "I don't care blankety blank blank blank blank blank who your uncle is." And just stared at him.

He goes, "I want to know who you are." Bobby just looked at him, didn't quite know how to take that. And he said, "I grew up as Dom DiMaggio, Joe DiMaggio's little brother." He goes, "I was Dom DiMaggio. I didn't want to be known as Joe DiMaggio's little brother. I don't care who your uncle is. Who are you?" "So, my name is Bobby Petrocelli, this is my son Chris." "I'd be happy to sign autographs for you guys."

See, my friends, that's what happens in volunteerism. We get our identity from the wrong place. I'm not the usher, I'm not the money counter, I'm not the secretary, I'm not the media person, the sound guy, or the Sunday school teacher. I'm a believer in Jesus Christ. That's where I get my identity from. Because people don't respect their turf or acknowledge them, this turf sickness takes people out. This might be the hardest, most insidious disease you'll find in volunteerism.