A couple years ago I was hitching a ride with a pastor to attend an interfaith event. I had just begun seminary, and he asked how my study was going. We had an interesting conversation, and then the topic of ordination came up. (I know, this sounds like last week’s post, but I promise you it’s not. This topic just seems to come up when I’m around ordained Christians in particular.) He surprised me when he said, “I don’t even know what ordination means anymore … honestly …” I was quiet for a moment, taking in the enormity of what he was saying and wanting to respect that enormity. Was he questioning his path? Was he suggesting that ordination isn’t what he thought it would be? I wasn’t sure, so I said that for me it’s a covenant–a promise of how I will show up in the world. And he said, “Well, of course that …”

A friend and I have had numerous conversations about our understanding of ordained and non-ordained ministry, what they share in common and where they might part ways. We wrestle with a desire to dissolve longstanding biases and exclusions that have kept many beautiful people from a path of sacred service. That said, should anyone who wants to be ordained be ordained? Are there qualities that suggest someone is not suited to ordination? How do we make room for people who may benefit from the process of personal growth inherent in a seminary education? None of us is perfect, and no one has all the qualifications for ministry as a result of study and even practice. We are all works in progress. At the same time, my friend and I have been on the receiving end of too many ministers who were far, far away from living into the questions of ministry. We don’t want others to experience what we did. So some broad guidelines seem necessary to ensure that people with the title of minister offer some reasonable level of spiritual expertise and maturity to those who need them.

Based on our wholly unscientific and subjective experiences, here are some unofficial—and yes, cheeky—signs you might not wanna be a minister:

• You’ve always wanted a gold star from God. Throughout the years, you’ve been overlooked, underestimated, and maybe even sidelined. Ordination is your chance to prove wrong everyone who has yet to acknowledge your God-given gifts—including you! Your raison d’etre will be pronounced by no one less than God, and you can make sure everyone knows it by using your transcendent title with each introduction.
  • Hard truth: striving for validation is the same whether we’re stuck on the title of vice president or minister. The latter might seem more noble. But the truth is that it’s merely ego dressed up in spiritual robes.
• You’re shopping for ordination. You need a religious organization that can deliver ordination with the speed and efficiency of Amazon Prime. You’re on a mission from God: you’ve got people to help and souls to save, so there’s no time to waste on personal growth, wrestling with deep spiritual truths, and contending with paradox. You can cram your homework into one month, tops. Besides, you took religion classes years ago, and you can Google any denominational beliefs you need to brush up on.
  • Hard truth: there is no short-cut to prepare for ministry. That said, there are hundreds of ways to minister right now, no waiting necessary, that don’t require ordination or a title. If we see ministry as a job opportunity that requires a specific title, we may need to expand our understanding of what ministry is. Those we minister to will thank us for the time we take.
• Black and white look good on you. More than just a fashion choice, black and white describes your preference for order, answers, and either/or thinking. You like guidance that says “do this, not that.” Or, maybe your version of black and white is that no rules are ever needed. Everything can be reduced down to its common denominator.
  • Hard truth: many seek out religion for comfort, for answers—yet the Divine Mystery calls us to explore the grey areas that make many uncomfortable. Discernment is undervalued in the West, and our society and media do not praise nuanced answers. Ministry calls us to hold in perfect tension the possible and the not yet.
• Life’s wounds still require frequent bandage changes. You know well the archetype of the wounded healer. Rather than insight and deepening compassion, though, life’s disappointments have morphed into merit badges of victim-hood. If others would just consider your feelings, your needs, your experience, you could be less suffering and more servant.
  • Hard truth: none of us gets through life unscathed. And some may even get more souvenirs of the journey than others, for no understandable reason. If we haven’t done our work, we can’t get out of our own way to truly be present to others. It doesn’t mean we won’t ever be triggered. It does mean that because of our substantial spiritual and psychological work, our spiritual maturity shows up as equanimity, humility, and empathy far more frequently than our triggers.
• The Enneagram, Myers-Briggs, and “What Color is Your Parachute” all say you’re suited to ministry. Those other career paths led nowhere and, to top it off, your coworkers were dolts. But research shows that your personality is totally suited to ministry—it says so right here. Add to that, your grandmother has always said you’d make an incredible minister. You can’t wait to ditch your job and find everlasting joy and meaning along your new sacred path endorsed by God.
  • Hard truth: Whatever difficulties we had in previous jobs—annoying coworkers, whining customers, demanding managers, mis-communicated expectations—won’t magically go away because we’re now ministers. In fact, there’s a possibility it will seem like all those problem-people have shown up on steroids because we have misunderstood the very nature of life, our work, and the calling of ministry. Again, we have to do the work to resolve the challenges in our present lives, because, frankly, that is truly the heart and soul of ministering.