“Then saith he unto his disciples,
the harvest truly is plenteous, but the labourers are few.” —Matthew 9:37
Jeremiah C. Lanphier was a businessman appointed missionary to help start a visitation program in a struggling New York City church. He had no knowledge of where to begin, no schooling, and no mentors—but he had a thought. He knew all people need to pray, and businesses close for lunch, so he sponsored a weekly prayer meeting on Wednesday at noon. The rest is history.
Only six individuals met the first week, but they didn’t give up. Twenty men came the second week and forty the third. Before long, the weekly prayer meeting became a daily event and eventually led to the Revival of 1800, one of the greatest spiritual awakenings in American history. By the time it reached its peak, more than a million people had accepted Christ as a result of the movement. All started by a layman with no experience but a sincere heart for church ministry.
I had a thought recently, while riding to work on a wonderful Western New York February day. The sky was gray, the wind blowing like a hurricane. The land was covered in a blanket of white like the beaches of Gulf Shores, Alabama, except the temperature was -6º degrees, with a chill factor of -32º. Instead of swimsuits and sunglasses, everyone wore their finest snow gear.
I looked to the sticks with reflectors on the sides of the highway, and on this particular day, I was glad they were there. All I could see was white. I couldn’t tell if I was driving, floating, or having an out-of-body experience. I quickly realized the drivers of the snowplows, the rumble strips on the highway, the flashing warning signs, and roadside reflector sticks are the most important and often overlooked aspects of driving in bad weather. You see, the simple things that guide us safely on our journey are the ones that count that most.
Ironically, my thoughts then turned to the most important but overlooked people in church—you know, the ones who are always there, do their jobs, greet people, pick up trash, clean the church, turn on the heat, wipe runny noses, tie shoes, comfort the crying, provide snacks, decorate for big events, and so on. These are the people who count the most. I thanked God for such people in our own church.
Then I heard the Spirit softly speak: “Who is the single most important layperson of the church?” My thoughts turned to someone often overlooked, never really given credit for all she does, rarely rewarded openly because we assume she knows her value—the pastor’s wife. She does her work quietly, often behind the scenes, always there.
The greatest layperson in the Landmark Church is my wife Sylvia. Like the reflector sticks along the side of a winter road, she is always there to remind me where I am, and what is really important. She finds my keys, sermon notes, Bible, and anything else I have misplaced. She reminds me of appointments, prayer needs, and who I should go see. She prepares meals for the family and the church, and the leftovers go to the needy. She prepares her lesson for children’s church with the same energy I put into a sermon.
I thank the Lord for bringing Sylvia and me together to be co-laborers in ministry. I am sure that if you’re a pastor, the most important layperson in your church is also your wife. The greatest thing about Sylvia is that she
would do the work because of the ministry,
not just because of her husband.
