Restoring Kingdom Builders

When I was running on my treadmill yesterday, a scene popped into my head that I hadn’t recalled for a long time.  Years ago, when I was pastoring in Silicon Valley, our family became friends with a family that attended another church.  This family invited our family over for dinner one night along with their pastor and his family.  I was looking forward to meeting this pastor about whom I had heard some good things.

When we sat down to eat, this pastor could not stop talking – about himself.  He was arrogant, rude, self-centered, and totally uninterested in anything or anybody but himself.  I could not believe it.  He never asked any questions about our family or our ministry.  It was all about him, him, him.  (Maybe I was invisible and didn’t know it.)  By the end of the evening, I don’t even think he knew my name, he was that oblivious to those around him.

I thought to myself, “This guy’s a pastor?  Aren’t pastors supposed to be a bit more others-oriented?”

Some of you might be thinking, “Well, I’m sure that’s the only time that’s ever happened to you.”

Uh, no.

Remember when O. J. got in his White Bronco and stopped traffic on LA freeways because the authorities were afraid he was going to harm somebody – especially himself?  I watched the whole drama from a hotel room outside Chicago with a leader from our church.  That night, we were supposed to be attending a banquet for Christian leaders, but I was gun-shy after an experience I had earlier that week.

While attending a conference, I was sitting at lunch around a table with seven other pastors.  I was hoping to get to know several of them, but it immediately became evident that we weren’t allowed to talk.  Instead, two pastors, who both led mega churches, did all the talking.  They talked, and they talked, and they talked.  I don’t remember anyone interacting with them.  They just lectured the rest of us on how to do church.  It was like we were supposed to be taking notes.  The longer this went on, the more upset I became.  It was obvious there was a pecking order at the table and that we little chickees weren’t even allowed to interrupt with a question or a comment.  The dominant feeling I had was that I was worthless.

You ask, “Jim, how common is this kind of rudeness among pastors?”  It’s hard to say, but I’ve encountered it too many times.

When I was at the same church I mentioned at the beginning of this article, I fractured my left elbow playing basketball.  The doctor immobilized my arm in a sling but I still carried out my normal duties.  At the time, pastors in the San Jose area met on a monthly basis for luncheons sponsored by the National Association of Evangelicals.  With my left arm in a sling, I dutifully attended the next luncheon which was held in a large room at a church where the pastor was on television.  (My grandmother used to watch this guy from Arizona).

Anyway, some of the pastors that were sitting around me wanted to know how I broke my arm, so I told them the story.  A little while later, this television preacher stood up and mentioned a time when he broke a limb, and when he did that, one of my new pastor friends raised his voice, pointed to me, and said that I had recently broken my arm as well.

I know some pastors who would have stopped and said, “What’s your name?  How did you break your arm?  How are you going to preach with only one hand?”  Stuff like that.  But you know what this guy did?  He just glared at me for a few seconds.  In my opinion, he wasn’t upset that he had been interrupted but that the limelight shone on someone else for a brief moment.

I believe that most pastors are tender people.  They really care for others, especially those who are hurting.  I’ve been around colleagues who bleed when they hear that someone went into the hospital or lost a loved one.  These pastors are true shepherds who care about their flock.  They are sensitive, dedicated, and kind.  In a word, they are servants.

But not all pastors are this way.  Sadly, a few are condescending and ego-driven.  I have often wondered how these guys stay in the ministry.  They never seem to see or hear anyone but themselves.  I’m pretty sure they would never give their life for the sheep, but they would definitely ask the sheep to die for them.  In a word, they feel entitled.

Entitled pastors cause trouble in churches.  Servant pastors bring hope and healing.

When I was seven years old, my family visited a Sunday night service where my uncle and aunt and cousins went to church.  A missionary spoke that night.  Sometime during the evening, a hymn was sung that I had never heard before.  It was called, “I’ll Go Where You Want Me to Go.”  The chorus went like this:

I’ll go where you want me to go, dear Lord,

O’er mountain or plain or sea

I’ll say what You want me to say, dear Lord,

I’ll be what You want me to be

It was a song of commitment and complete abandonment to the Lord.  The song was saying, “Lord, I will not do whatever I want to do.  I will do whatever You want me to do.  I will not go wherever I want to go, but wherever You want me to go.”  The song meant so much to me that I dug up the lyrics out of our hymn book and memorized all three stanzas.  Even now, when I think about that song, it reduces me to tears.

I am not entitled.  You are not entitled.  No person or pastor is entitled to anyone or anything.  We are who we are by the grace of God.

If anyone had a right to feel entitled, it was Paul.  Can you imagine the introduction he might receive if he appeared on Leno or Letterman?  “Our next guest composed half the books in the New Testament.  He rubbed shoulders with other biblical writers like Mark, Luke, and James.  He launched the Christian movement in modern-day Turkey and Europe by planting churches in population centers.  And some people say he’s the greatest Christian who ever lived.  Ladies and gentleman, the Apostle Paul!”  (And then the band plays Hello Pauly.)

Would Paul strut from the Green Room to the guest chair?  Would he spend all his time bragging about himself?

Paul wrote in 1 Corinthians 15:9-10: “For I am the least of the apostles and do not even deserve to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the church of God.  But by the grace of God I am what I am, and his grace to me was not without effect.  No, I worked harder than all of them – yet not I, but the grace of God that was with me.”

Paul was saying, “I am not entitled to be a Christian leader.  I have done things I’m not proud of.  Whatever good I have done, it’s by God’s grace working through me rather than any inherent talent that I have.  It’s not about me, me, me, but about grace, grace, grace.”

I have a real heart for wounded pastors.  Based on some of the ex-pastors I’ve been meeting, there are others who feel the same way I do.  Pastors are ordinary people that God has called and gifted to serve Him and others.  When a pastor enjoys success in ministry, it’s not ultimately because of his talent or his personality or his intellect.  It’s because of God’s grace.  As Paul wrote years later in 1 Timothy 1:15: “Here is a trustworthy statement that deserves full acceptance: Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners – of whom I am the worst.”

It’s only when we pastors forget about God’s grace that we become thoughtless and rude.  When we start to think that we are entitled to all the good things God has done for us, we will dishonor God and alienate people.  But the more conscious we are that we don’t deserve salvation or our family or a leadership position, but that all we have and are comes from The Father of Lights, the more others-oriented we will be.

I don’t know about you, but I’ve never been able to follow an ego-driven Christian leader very far.  But I’m more than willing to follow a grace-filled leader anywhere.

Let’s pray that God will fill our pastors – and our own lives – with His grace, grace, grace.