I’m so Grateful not to be a Pastor

By Maddie Johnson
May 1, 2025

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Trigger Warning: mention of sexual assault (SA) in relationship to my call and in acknowledgment that April is Sexual Assault Awareness Month. For more information or support, please call the National Sexual Assault Telephone Hotline at 1-800-656-4673 or visit the National Sexual Violence Resource Center at ​​https://www.nsvrc.org/ 

I have always described my call to ministry as a series of nudges that God has prompted in my life rather than a big “a-ha” moment. When I initially enrolled in seminary, I intended to find a space where I could grow as a person of faith called to the work of justice. I had always imagined this would be foundational for any profession I chose, rather than a profession in itself. However, over my time in seminary, for the first time, I saw deacons who protested for a $15 minimum wage, pastors who got arrested as a witness to eliminate cash bail, and ordained clergy who marched in solidarity with the Standing Rock Sioux and other Water Protectors protecting their sacred land from the construction of the Dakota Access Pipeline. These faith leaders opened my eyes to the possibility that ministry could be more expansive than I had previously imagined. Ministry could be in the community, in the streets, and outside the church walls.  

As I followed this nudge, I decided to officially “rule out” local church ministry by spending my first seminary internship in a suburban church. Through that experience, I was fortunate to connect with local church pastors who preached justice from the pulpit, but I also began to hear narratives of doubt like, “no one will pay you to do ministry beyond the church,” “we need justice leaders in the pulpit,” and even “having stability and security as a pastor is better than being unemployed.” Eventually, these whispers nudged me toward local church ministry back in my home context in Kansas. 

“These faith leaders opened my eyes to the possibility that ministry could be more expansive than I had previously imagined. Ministry could be in the community, in the streets, and outside the church walls.”

I am still so grateful for my two years spent in local church ministry in Winfield, Kansas. The people I met who were justice-oriented, passionate, and inclusive brought so much joy to my life. And yet, the nudge to leave my ministry in the local church kept persisting. I entered a season of discernment where I asked myself questions about what parts of my job as pastor truly felt aligned with my call. It became clear that the pieces that felt aligned were education, justice, and advocacy. These parts were being overshadowed by worthy yet less aligned work like worship, church bureaucracy, and pastoral care.  

Even though I was on track to “elevate” in the United Methodist itinerant system, I eventually decided that staying in local church ministry would lead to burnout. At 26 years old, I couldn’t justify staying in a space that I knew would be detrimental to my health and call, even if I was doing good work with good people. 

This experience of leaving local church ministry was an important milestone in my series of nudges regarding my call. In my reflection, I realized that I had been conflating being good at something, and frankly, being told I was good at something, with being called to something. To some, this distinction might feel insignificant. However, I found myself trusting that God had something in store for me beyond the capitalistic notion that I was called to something based on what I could produce.

“I realized that I had been conflating being good at something, and frankly, being told I was good at something, with being called to something.”

My next two ministry roles offered me a chance to lean further into the parts of my call that brought me joy: education, justice, and advocacy. I was the Program Director for a nonprofit that does asset-based community development in churches. Now, I create justice resourcing for United Methodist churches in Kansas and Nebraska. Both professions have felt more aligned with my call and have allowed me to grow in my gifts. I am happy with my decision to leave local church ministry and am so grateful for the work I do now. And yet, God continues to nudge me in unexpected ways.  

For one, I am finding peace in knowing that my call is constantly evolving and adapting because I choose to remain open to God’s movement in our midst and pay attention to those on the margins, those Jesus ministered with. Secondly, I have found that God’s call on my life doesn’t always manifest in a profession or how I’m paid. Lastly, God’s call on my life must first rest in my call to be human – to be loved, relational, and whole – if I am going to live authentically into my call to ordained ministry.  

For me, these realizations have meant responding to God’s nudges toward healing, justice, and restoration through my experience as a survivor of SA. During my time in Winfield as a local church pastor, I had the heartbreaking honor of supporting one of my church members as she sought medical and legal help in response to her own SA. It took time to realize that this moment of advocacy coincided with my own SA that very same week. Over time and with a lot of rest, healing, and support from loved ones, I have felt ready to respond to God’s nudge and show up for other survivors of SA in concrete ways.  

“Lastly, God’s call on my life must first rest in my call to be human – to be loved, relational, and whole if I am going to live authentically into my call to ordained ministry.”

Last spring, I completed my 60-hour Volunteer Medical Advocate training through the non-profit, Resilience. It was an empowering experience to be in community with other survivors and allies as we learned best practices for supporting survivors in the hospital. Over the last year, I have been on call for 250 hours helping survivors navigate the trauma and courage of getting the medical and legal resources necessary to begin the work of healing and justice. I have also begun my doctoral program where I am exploring the intersections of faith, ethics, and sexuality to create resourcing that is LGBTQ-affirming, survivor-centric, trauma-informed, and holistic as we all seek to be more healthy and whole children of God.  

This advocacy work is exceptionally fulfilling, and though I only volunteer a few times a month, it is clear that God has called me to these holy and vulnerable spaces alongside survivors of SA in hospital rooms, because of my gifts, my story, and my own resilience and healing. Humbly acknowledging that God may call me in another direction at any moment, I am resting joyfully knowing I have found an integrated and aligned way to respond to God’s call to love God and neighbor.  

To all the survivors who may be reading this, I see you and I believe you. For me, God has helped to channel my anger and pain in a way that feels constructive and empowering. This may have happened for you too, or it will with time, or it may not at all. I don’t believe God demands our trauma be justified or utilized. I do believe God shows up amidst it all and nudges us in creative and unexpected ways toward healing and peace. May it be so for you.

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Maddie Johnson

Maddie (she/her) is an ordained deacon in the United Methodist Church. She serves on the Justice and Mercy team of the Great Plains United Methodist Conference as a contractor creating faith-based justice resourcing for local churches, crafting leadership development retreats and programs, and directing a young adult social justice summer internship. She received her MDiv from Garrett-Evangelical Theological Seminary (G-ETS) and has just begun her DMin at G-ETS in their Leadership for Social Transformation track where she hopes to develop a curriculum focused on sexuality education and ethics. Maddie also spends time volunteering as a hospital advocate supporting survivors of SA with medical and legal advice.  

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