What’s wrong with this picture?
When I was fourteen years old, my family attended a church where we really liked the pastor. He was a good preacher and liked to sing so much that he sometimes put on a robe and sang with the choir. On occasion, he’d even end a message by singing a song like “He Could Have Called Ten Thousand Angels.” (A good song, by the way.) In my mind, I can still hear and see him singing it more than forty years later.
After that pastor resigned to became an executive at a Christian college, the church quickly called a new pastor – maybe too quickly. To be honest, our family didn’t like the new pastor very much. The previous pastor had curly hair while the new pastor had a crew cut. The previous pastor came off as very loving while the new pastor seemed a bit harsh. The previous pastor’s personality was safely predictable while the new pastor’s was unknown and so erratic by comparison. The previous pastor had supervised a well-liked church staff but the new pastor abruptly fired a popular, long-standing staff member (who happened to be a single woman) soon after he took office. The firing did not go over well with a number of key people in the church.
The whispering started.
Somewhere along the line, I became aware of conversations that others were having about the new pastor – the sort of discussions that remained private inside my own family. These conversations were just “in the air.” Since my family was far removed from the church’s inner circle, I’m not sure we knew much about what was really going on – we just knew we didn’t like the new pastor.
Why not?
Well, for starters, he wasn’t the former pastor. That wasn’t his fault, but it was a fact. The congregation needed time to process their grief in losing their old pastor, but someone (foolishly, in my opinion) insisted that the church call a pastor quickly (probably out of anxiety). This guaranteed that the former pastor and the new pastor would be unfavorably compared, and the former pastor (who was becoming a saint in some eyes) completely outshone the new pastor (who couldn’t compete with a ghost).
In addition, he fired a popular staff member. She had been a fixture at the church for years. She had a host of supporters. She was intelligent, funny, strong – and, as I recall, a bit brassy. Maybe she needed to go, I don’t know. But to fire her so soon after taking office backfired on the pastor. I didn’t know any of the facts, but I sided with her. Why? Because I knew her a little and liked her – but I didn’t know the new pastor at all, and, truth be told, I didn’t like him. My dislike of him wasn’t based on anything substantial – it was just an impression from hearing him preach.
And, of course, since our friends didn’t like him, neither did we. While this is the lamest reason of all, it happens all the time in churches.
Eventually, the new pastor resigned in the middle of a heated business meeting. He moved to the East Coast and, as often happens with pastors who go through such experiences, he left pastoral ministry for good. He became a Christian counselor and did some writing – and one of the articles he wrote gave his side of the conflict. (This was probably 25 years ago.)
After I read his article, I felt ashamed.
However small my participation – and at 14, I didn’t have any church clout – I saw what can happen in a church when a group of people make up their mind that they don’t like a pastor.
And that’s what it all comes down to most of the time: whether or not we like a pastor. And when we don’t like him – or we feel he doesn’t like us – we feel free to destroy him.
It makes me want to weep, not only for my own evil heart, but for the entire Christian community.
This is why Paul writes what he does in 1 Timothy 5:21. After laying out clear instructions for receiving charges against a pastor/elder, Paul expresses himself in the strongest possible language. Please read it several times and slowly:
“I charge you, in the sight of God and Christ Jesus and the elect angels, to keep these instructions without partiality, and to do nothing out of favoritism.”
Paul says that when the leaders/people of a church take action to correct a pastor for misconduct, all of heaven is watching. Since the Father and the Son and angelic beings are scrutinizing the way that church leaders/people handle charges against a pastor, the accusers/investigators need to do everything God’s way.
And then Paul adds two phrases that are nearly identical: such correction is to be done “without partiality” and never “out of favoritism.” In other words, it’s immaterial whether or not we like a pastor when people make accusations against him. We must use impartial biblical principles in such situations.
But how often is that done?
Not very often. Rather than using biblical principles, the three primary ways that pastors are corrected in churches are (a) business practices, (b) church politics, and (c) the law of the jungle.
While it’s helpful for a church to know the best business practices for correcting executives/employees, the phrase “these instructions” in 1 Timothy 5:21 does not refer to secular company policies, but Paul’s directives in verses 19 and 20. In fact, since Paul wrote under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, biblical directives must trump business practices every single time.
If a staff member or board member is being corrected for some offense, the pastor is usually able to provide a biblical perspective on how to handle matters. But if the pastor is being corrected, business practices are usually substituted for biblical directives. Why? Because a pastor is usually accountable to a board, and board members fall back on what they know best: business. But in so doing, they ignore 1 Timothy 5:19-21 to their peril, the very thing Paul warns against in verse 21. When pastors utilize biblical principles during conflict while boards fall back on business practices, the chasm between the two groups will grow even wider – and little will be resolved.
In such situations, Christian leaders also resort to church politics. Before engaging in biblical correction, leaders try and anticipate what might happen if they make certain decisions. They guess who might leave the church if they discipline or terminate a pastor – and how many. They obtain a membership roster (in a church governed by a congregation) and try and guess who might vote which way. They enter into discussions with former pastors and denominational executives and key staff and opinion makers in the congregation to insure they have their support if a showdown occurs. While some of the above ideas have their place, we must remember that Paul said to “keep these instructions without partiality.” He said nothing about playing politics.
Then there’s the law of the jungle. In the absence of using any biblical counsel regarding the correction of spiritual leaders, the leaders/people of a church may degenerate into immature nastiness and pettiness. Leaders resort to power tactics. Individuals make anonymous phone calls or send anonymous notes embedded with threats and demands. Mass letters and emails are distributed to people in the church who don’t even know what’s going on. Some people call the pastor names, make exaggerated claims against him, and engage in “the politics of personal destruction.”
How petty can Christians get? When my dad was a pastor, one of the charges leveled against him before he resigned was that he left a church party early on a Saturday night. What was wrong with that? (When I was a pastor, I tried not to plan anything on a Saturday night so I could be my best on Sunday.) My father was charged with going home to write his sermon when he was simply going home to review it. But when certain people don’t like a pastor, they will invent things and exaggerate incidents to discredit his influence in the eyes of others.
And all the while, Paul says, heaven watches – and weeps.
I once read that when Abraham Lincoln was a young man, he saw a slave being whipped unmercifully. He told himself, “Someday, I’m going to hit that, and hit it hard.”
For decades, I’ve watched pastors and churches suffer irreparable harm because biblical principles were ignored when it came time to correct a pastor.
Like Lincoln, I want to hit that hard.
Christians speak rightfully of social justice. (Read the Book of Amos for an eye-opening view of God’s feelings about civil and religious injustice.) But what about ecclesiastical (church) justice? Should we not care about righteous behavior both outside and inside the church?
And since pastors serve as the link in a church between heaven and earth as well as between a church and the culture, should we not be doubly conscientious in how we treat them, especially if and when they are charged with wrongdoing?
Paul thought so, enough to write 1 Timothy 5:19-21. Who will teach this text to God’s people?
I hope you will. Read it. Understand it. Memorize it. Share it.
There’s even more to say about it, and I will endeavor to do that next time.
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