Today’s devotion on the theme of Pastor’s Relationships is by Donald Miller

In Texas, being a minister can make you a rock star. Pastors of large churches get major book deals and have their pictures on billboards and are chosen to counsel presidents and chime in on morning talk shows.

And as I flew to Texas to deliver the eulogy for David Gentiles, my youth pastor who was like a father to me, I wondered why he never went that route. He was a fantastic communicator, a great writer, and had more charm and personality than most people who rise to fame. While he’d been sought for influential positions in large churches, he chose instead to minister to a tiny church. In some ways David lived his career in reverse. His talent grew, but every time he had the chance to move up the career ladder he moved down, on purpose.

It was a struggle to think about David and compare his life to mine. More people knew my name, but far more people knew him. I wondered which was better: to have all the stuff we think will make people love us or to have love itself? David had love.

What was shocking, though, was what happened on the day of his funeral. The small church where he pastored couldn’t hold the number of people who wanted to attend the service, so they moved David’s funeral to a baseball stadium. When I got there, news trucks were there. The parking lot was full, so people were parked along the street. And all this for a man who died as the assistant pastor of a church with no more than one hundred members.

I sat near home plate with David’s family and looked out over the crowd. Thousands of people had been deeply loved by a man who sought no fame and no glory. David didn’t try to impress people. He simply loved them. It took his funeral for me to notice the enormous empire he’d been subtly building by daily giving his life away.