I am convinced that every pastor needs to do the custodial duties in his or her church for a few weeks. Nothing gives someone a greater appreciation for the church than to clean up after a busy week of worship, fellowship and discipleship.
I had the distinct privilege of being Trinity's custodian last month when we were in between custodial staff. For two Friday nights in a row, I spent hours vacuuming, scrubbing, mopping, sweeping, wiping and heavy-lifting.
It was hard work, but it was quite rewarding.
I'm not new to this kind of labor at church. We pastors have to be gifted plumbers, electricians and carpenters if we are to be effective stewards of our places of worship.
In fact, most of my handiwork experience came from the church: it's where I learned how to change faucets, repair drywall, paint and even build a few visitors signs.
On those two Friday evenings, however, I quickly learned that custodial work is a whole other ballgame. Cleaning an entire church, even one as small as Trinity, requires patience, concentration and humility. Patience, because no vacuum is ever large enough to clean the sanctuary quickly; concentration, because being alone with one's thoughts can drive a person mad; and humility, because you are forced to clean places you never knew (and never wanted to know) existed.
The experience also gave me a greater appreciation for church, the ministry that takes place there, and the ministers who fill its spaces. The first night I spent cleaning the church, I thought about the custodians we had in the past 10 years.
One longtime custodian was a first-rate minister and friend (he resigned and moved to New York). He was a Vietnam veteran, lived in poverty on the streets of New York, recovered from alcohol and drug addiction, knew Christ in a powerful way thanks to his ever-faithful (and prophet) wife, and was one of Trinity's best deacons.
He started our NA program and ministered to countless families in the process.
The next custodians were a couple who spent hours (they were only paid for three hours, but always worked an average of six to eight) every weekend making sure that the church was not only clean, but a sacred space safe for people of every age.
While cleaning, they sang praises, lifted up people (by name) in prayer, and prayed over every chair and room in preparation for Sunday worship.
On some Friday evenings, I'd even get a text from them simply stating, "I am praying for you." That kind of prayer can make a difference in the life of the church, and every time a guest or parishioner commented that the Holy Spirit was present on any given Sunday, I often credited the prayers of these faithful stewards.
On other occasions, when being pastor was difficult, I couldn't help but wander to the sanctuary and simply reflect on the prayers of this team.
No wonder, then, that when my last deacon retired from the position, I asked one of these custodians (one of them has been a deacon for over a year) to be my deacon. To be held in the prayers of another is a priceless gift.
The second time I cleaned the church, I found myself inspired to pray like the last custodians did. I prayed for people, I prayed for our church, I prayed with gratitude of serving such a wonderful community of faith.
I prayed that the often-neglected and often-overlooked position of custodian wouldn't bring me prestige, but would simply be a blessing for so many people who come to church and worship God unhindered by an unkempt house of prayer.
Yes, pastors need to be custodians once in a while. It's a reminder that the church is there for others and that God's agenda is much larger than any single pastor's. It's a blessing to help make sacred that which would be simply brick and mortar otherwise.
The Rev. Joe LaGuardia is the senior pastor of Trinity Baptist Church, 301 Honey Creek Road, Conyers. Email him at firstname.lastname@example.org or visit www.trinityconyers.org.