Conference Minister's Corner - 09-30-2025

Don’t Be Zinc 

By The Reverend Walt Hampton, J.D., CFC

The world feels raw right now.

Division. Discord. Rage.

Everywhere we turn, voices clash. Lines are drawn. People retreat to their corners. And the anger simmers, often spilling over.

As ministers and lay leaders, we are called into the midst of this. We are called to be steady in the storm. To hold space for others. To bear witness to both their pain and their hope.

It is holy work. But it is also hard work.

And if we’re not careful, it will consume us.

Here’s the image: A boat’s brass prop turning in salt water. Left unprotected, the salt eats away at the brass. The fix? A zinc anode attached to the prop shaft. The zinc corrodes first. It is sacrificed so the brass is spared.

It’s a brilliant bit of engineering. But it’s a terrible way to live.

Don’t be zinc.

Because ministry is not about losing yourself for the sake of others. Not in that way. Not to the point of corrosion. Not until there’s nothing left of you.

Yes, Jesus said, “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends” (John 15:13). But Jesus also took time apart. He withdrew from the crowds. He went up the mountain to pray. Again and again, he stepped away to be renewed.

Elijah too. After the fire and the whirlwind, he was utterly spent. And God’s care for him? Not another mission. Not another burden. But rest. Sleep. Bread. Water. Renewal (1 Kings 19:5–8).

We need the same.

Because the call to lead is relentless. The needs are endless. The work is never done. There will always be another meeting. Another call. Another crisis.

If we’re not intentional, we will be eaten away. Just like zinc.

So here’s the invitation: practice self-care as if your life depends on it. Because it does.

That means rest. Real rest. Sabbath that isn’t just a nice idea, but an actual rhythm. Time when the phone is off. Time when you step away and let the world turn without you.

It means prayer. Not perfunctory. Not one more item on the list. But deep, quiet time to breathe and be with God. Time for silence. Time for listening. Time for grounding.

It means tending the body. Sleep. Movement. Nourishment. Walking in the woods. Drinking water. Going to the doctor when you need to. Honoring the vessel that carries your spirit.

It means tending the heart. Therapy when you need it. A trusted friend. A circle of colleagues who hold you up. A spiritual director who reminds you that you are more than your work.

It means joy. Play. Laughter. Music. Art. Time with people who delight you. Time with those who make you remember why life is good.

None of this is selfish. None of it is indulgent. It is faithful. It is necessary.

Because the truth is this: we cannot pour from an empty cup. We cannot give what we do not have.

You can only take care of others if you take care of you.

So let’s resist the myth of ministry as martyrdom. Let’s reject the idea that our worth is measured by exhaustion. Let’s stop being zinc.

Instead, let’s be leaders who are whole. Leaders who are grounded. Leaders who are alive with Spirit and joy. Leaders who serve not by corroding away, but by shining with resilience and grace.

That is how we will stand in this storm. That is how we will bear witness in this divided time. Not as sacrificial metal. But as living signs of God’s love.

Peace to you.