December Newsletter

The Heath Shuler of the Pastoral World

I'm the Heath Shuler of the pastoral world. At least, that's how I feel.

For those who don't remember Heath Shuler, it's obvious you're not from East Tennessee or Washington, DC. Those people remember him, even if for very different reasons. University of Tennessee football worshippers, I mean fans, have very fond memories of Heath. Because of his dynamic leadership and raw athleticism the UT marching band played their favorite hymn, “Rocky Top” too many times to count. Students showed him their love when they hung banners from their dorm windows with messages like "Heath 3:16" and "In Heath we Trust." By the time he left Knoxville in 1993 he basically owned Tennessee's passing records. Volunteer fans still think he got robbed when he placed second in the Heisman race that year.

People from our nation's capital, on the other hand, have feelings that aren't so warm. He was supposed to bring his quarterback magic to Washington like he did Knoxville. After winning Super Bowl XXVI on January 26, 1992, the Redskins had become the cellar dwellers of their division. For the 1993 season, the once mighty skins owned a humiliating 4-12 record. They needed help badly; they needed a savior. It appeared that God had smiled on them when they were able to draft Heath as the third overall pick of the 1994 draft. He would be their franchise-building quarterback. Fans and management alike fully anticipated he would take them back to the promised land of playoffs and Super Bowls. Rings and revenues were everybody's expectations. Hope was reborn. Heath was crowned.

But things went south fast. In his rookie year, Heath not only failed to deliver the victories, he passed for more interceptions (12) than touchdowns (10). In just three short years, his injury-shortened Redskin career was finished. It ended with him appearing in only 19 games and failing to lead them back to postseason play. He entered DC crowned, but left crucified.

Sadly enough, Heath's NFL career never resurrected. The rest of his abbreviated NFL journey included brief stints with the Saints and the Raiders and was just as bad. For his accomplishments as an NFL quarterback, especially the letdown in Washington, Heath was ranked by ESPN's panelists as the 17th biggest "sports flop" of the last quarter century.

I've felt that way before - like a huge flop. With great expectations I moved from my home in the south to minister in one of New York City's five boroughs, a place called Staten Island. Once I arrived on the scene, my impact was felt almost immediately. Things started happening. Not the kind of things the church or I had planned on, though. Trials lined up one after another for two solid years. The worship leader was removed. The chairman of the deacon board, and largest giver, left the church in controversy. My closest friend and associate pastor left to go back to school. His replacement was initially voted down. The elders resigned. Even my prayer partner left to go to a different church! (Pastors, you know that's bad!) After two years in New York, as many left the church as had come. My neatly stored plaques and certificates of earlier ministerial successes didn't do anything to help me get over the feeling that I was a flop, a huge one.

A godly, mature man with the right perspective might have gone through this and grown in dependency on the Lord, but the effect to me was depression. My weight skyrocketed. My energy plummeted. I experienced heart palpitations. New temptations multiplied. And my faith in my ability to lead tanked. God sent me to New York to bring life and all I felt was death.

Have you ever felt that way before? Do you feel that way now? If so, please hold on.

Failure is not why I feel like Heath Shuler. It's 2007 and he's returned to Washington. He's gone in with high hopes again, but this time representing the eleventh congressional district for the state of North Carolina. He is a socially conservative, Christian Democratic Congressman who now has the power to deliver more than rings and revenues. The unexpected, painful death of his NFL career freed him to discover an even greater purpose in life, representing the poor and disenfranchised people his grandmother had often talked to him about. His quarterback career died, but his congressional career is just getting started.

That's how I feel now - like I'm just getting started. I haven't changed careers, but I have changed as a person and a pastor. I have come to a new realization of what success is. I used to measure my ministry effectiveness primarily by achievements and numbers. While I still work and pray to see significant measurable growth, I believe success in ministry is exhibiting an unshakable faithfulness to the Lord and His calling, especially in the long season of trial. Success is progress in character first and progress in measurable results second. Success is not quitting on yourself when other people and all your circumstances are screaming, "You're a flop!" Success is dying to an old way of thinking or an old measure of success in order to move forward to a new reality and a better life. Success is not embracing death, but embracing the new life that comes after a real part of you dies.

So, to my colleagues, the past, present and future flops of the pastoral world, I want to say that failure is going into a tomb but not coming back out in glory. This is not an option. We have to be like Jesus, who spent a few days in a tomb Himself, but refused to take it up as His residence. In resurrection power, He changed clothes and got on with completing His earthly mission. We're called to the same. We're equipped for it. Let's do it. If a quarterback can do it, so can we.

- Eddie Cole