Restoring Kingdom Builders

“Never follow someone successful.”

That advice was given to me and seven of my classmates when I took a class on managing church conflict in seminary.  Our instructor was a retired army colonel who seemed to know what he was talking about.

I learned this the hard way at the last church where I was a youth pastor.

The previous youth pastor (let’s call him Bob) was a friend of mine who was moving to another state to complete seminary.  We had known each other off and on for quite a while.  As I recall, he had a hand in recommending me to be his successor.

I had many friends in that church already.  The search team was very positive toward me.  It seemed like a good fit.

But after Bob left, I was unaware of the affection that the adult leaders and the young people had for him.  Some of them practically worshiped him.  One girl told me, “I feel sorry for you.”  An adult leader told me, “You’re just so … different” – implying that there was something wrong with me.  There were even signs of rebellion among the ranks.

Since I had never been through this experience before, I began to feel tinges of jealousy toward Bob.  I didn’t really know why he was viewed as being godlike and why I was held in contempt by certain people.

One Christmas, Bob came home from school and was scheduled to speak on a Sunday morning.  You would have thought that Jesus was appearing live on stage.  There was a buzz throughout the campus that day that I didn’t know how to handle.

Years later, Bob and I got together for a meal, and I told him about his near-saint status inside the church and what a challenge that was for me.  We both had a good laugh about it.

But I wasn’t laughing at the time.

However, I learned some valuable lessons through that experience that I couldn’t have learned any other way.  How can a Christian leader stay sane when following someone successful?

First, realize some people grieve the loss of a spiritual leader for a long time.  I had a youth pastor that I greatly admired when I was at Biola.  Since he was in seminary, sometimes we’d ride back to the church together after school.  I could talk to him for hours.  He was smart, human, and funny – and he knew his Bible well.  I picked his brain about everything.  (One time, we tossed a Frisbee down the center aisle of the church while talking.  Then I went up to the balcony and tried to throw the Frisbee into the baptistry.  We called our game BapFrisbee.)

My youth pastor meant the world to me.  When he graduated from seminary and took a church in Colorado, it hurt – a lot.  He was my spiritual mentor, my go-to guy when I got stuck in life.

Darrell, I will never, ever forget you.  Without you, I would probably still be flipping burgers at McDonald’s.

Although I became the church’s youth pastor after Darrell left, I never felt any sense of competition toward him.  As far as I was concerned, he could do no wrong.

And that’s how many of the kids felt about Bob.  He had taught them God’s Word, played crazy games with them, led them to Christ, and listened to their problems.  He had earned the right to be greatly loved over time, while I had not.  I slowly began to understand why they felt the way they did about him.

Second, determine to be yourself.  Bob couldn’t be me, and I couldn’t be Bob.  We were completely different individuals.  But I think it was difficult for some people to see that.

After a while, Bob became predictable to the adult youth leaders and the kids.  They learned to understand his humor.  They could tell when he was upset.  They became accustomed to his teaching style.  And then all of a sudden, Bob was gone, and I was taking his place.  At first, I wasn’t predictable.  My personality, leadership style, and methodology weren’t better or worse than Bob’s – just different.  Some people were just off balance around me.  While that bothered me, I couldn’t be a Bob clone.

There were times during the first year after Bob left when I just wanted to quit.  But slowly, changes began to occur because …

Third, expect that as a new leader, you will gain new followers.  Some of Bob’s biggest supporters gradually dropped out, moved away, or left the church, so they weren’t around forever.  And some of the new Jr. High kids didn’t really know Bob at all, so I was their first youth pastor.  Then some new students came to the church, and I instantly became their youth leader as well.

There was a group of high school and college guys in that church that I really loved.  We played sports and went to ballgames together.  They meant so much to me.  Some of us became friends for life.

I learned that youth groups, like churches, never remain static.  They are constantly turning over, maybe 10-20% per year.  If a leader just hangs in there, most of his opposition will eventually leave – and most newcomers will become supportive.  The process just takes time.

Fourth, pave the way so someone can succeed you.  When I finally left my last youth pastorate after 3 1/2 years, I truly loved the adult leaders and the students.  My wife and I sensed a great outpouring of love as we prepared to move to Northern California, a response we couldn’t have envisioned just three years before when I was chasing a ghost.

Now someone had to follow me.

So on my last Sunday, I took a few minutes to encourage the congregation to love my successor the way they had loved me.  I didn’t want anyone to go through the hell that I had gone through.

I learned a lot about following someone successful, so much so that those lessons have stayed with me for the rest of my ministry.  And I especially learned this lesson:

If they loved your predecessor, most people will gradually come to love you.

Finally, remember John 3:30.  For a few months, John the Baptist was the biggest star in all of Israel.  His appearance became iconic.  His preaching drew crowds.  His message sparked debates.  Arising out of nowhere, John had become THE MAN in the land.

And then Jesus came along.

Suddenly, the crowds left John and began following Jesus.  It would have hurt a lesser man.

Someone told me recently about a man who succeeded a well-known Bible teacher as pastor.  This Bible teacher had his own unique speaking and writing style that endeared him to thousands.  I have many of his books and once subscribed to his messages on cassette.  He would have been a tough act for anyone to follow.  After a few years, his successor resigned and became very upset about the way he was treated.

I can understand why he might have felt that way.  It’s unfair to be compared to someone else when you’re just trying to be yourself.

But remarkably, John adopted an alternative viewpoint.

John knew his role.  It wasn’t to be the Messiah.  It was to pave the way for Israel’s Messiah.  When the crowds left John and followed Jesus, John didn’t become jealous because that was the plan all along.

In John 3:30, John said, “He must increase, but I must decrease.”

Those are the best words I’ve ever run across for dealing with the whole predecessor-successor thing.  There’s a time for me to be in the spotlight followed by a time when the spotlight needs to shine on someone else.  Only a narcissist would insist that the spotlight shine on him forever.

But John was far from a narcissist.  He was truly humble in the best sense of the word.

In essence, John said, “Who gives a rip what people think about me?  I only care what people think about Jesus.”

I was once in a church where there was a little plaque fastened to the pulpit where only the preacher could see it.  It served as a reminder why we were all there in the first place.

The plaque said simply, “Sir, We Must See Jesus.”

I couldn’t say it any better myself.