Why Contentment is Driving My Content

An adjective is leading my noun. Let me explain.

Pastors create content. Yes, pastors are first shepherds, leaders, counselors, heralds of good news. But pastors are also content creators. Sermons and newsletters and blog posts and social media entries, all designed to inspire, educate, and gather. These are the tools of the pastor in our present age.

I’m more aware than ever of the weight and presiding pressure of continued content creation in my life. The saying among pastors that goes, “Sunday is always coming” is not untrue. The moment I turn off the microphone after my Sunday message, my mind begins to think about what will be required of me in seven days.

Content.

The church, of course, isn’t knowingly putting this pressure on me. The comment of “Great sermon, Jon” or “Thank you for letting God use you” are not platitudes given to me lightly, but real gratitude for the sermonic content. I take what is given me as fuel for what must come next. More content.

Our church has recently launched a series of videos helping answer a wide array of questions. Each video script is several thousand words that requires multiple re-writes, theological fact-checking and then an afternoon in the studio. Every week. I love how God is using these tools. Thousands of people around the country are engaging with this medium. But I feel the weight of this content monster eating up every word I write. So I write more.

I’m also partially responsible for the script of our video announcements that are played during our weekend worship gatherings. These are not difficult to write. I even enjoy the silliness and comedic schtick that we create for Sunday’s announcements. But still. More content.

Add into the mix five to ten handwritten notes every week to guests and to volunteers who serve our community so well. It’s a pile on. I’ve been working on a second book for quite a while too. It’s a sideline project. Our church elders have given me the green light to carve out time every week. If I am able to steal an hour of quiet (in between sermon prep, Ask a Pastor, blogs, etc.) I dust off the Word document that may or may not be a book, and pray that words come. Content and more content.

THE MORE IS NOT NECESSARILY BETTER

I hope this doesn’t come across as complaining. It’s certainly not written with that attitude. I love my life. I love creating content. I love opening my computer, seeing a blank page, and pounding out words that form sentences that lead to paragraphs of prose and purpose. It’s a gift that I am given. A content gift.

This brings me back to the adjective leading the noun.

The English language is quirky. Words, the same words, same spellings, and often pronunciations will have entirely different meanings. This word content—käntent—is a noun, as I’ve been using it; it means the substance of things held together. There is also a word with the same spelling that is an adjective—kənˈtent—that means, a state of peace. One is a noun—something I create. The other is a state of mind I hope to dwell in regardless of circumstances.

I have to remind myself of this creative tension. The adjective must lead the noun. Mind you, I know this isn’t good writing, but it is good for life. My contentment must drive my content. Nothing new here, of course. I just don’t want to get bogged down in the pressure of creating, writing, and content development and forget that I asked for this. I dreamt of this, prayed for this. On my best days, I’m thrilled by the noun of my life. But on my not so good days—days when I have too many projects and too few hours, my heart becomes overwhelmed.

I whisper to my shaky heart, “Jon, be content (kənˈtent) in the content (käntent) of life.” I know the nouns of my existence may someday go away, change into something else, perhaps. My life and time orbit around this little noun . . . but I know I am susceptible to a change. New things will come. This is why I pray the adjective never changes. Content. Be content. Be at peace.

I always want the adjective to lead my noun.