I recently attended a conference for church consultants.
The theme of the conference was how to turn around a church, especially one that’s sick or dying.
We heard presentations from top consultants like Aubrey Malphurs, Paul Borden, and Gary McIntosh. Gary introduced me to Carl George, a legend in the field.
Some presentations dealt with the recommendations that a consultant might make to turn a church around, especially if the previous pastor left under less than optimal circumstances.
During my time at the conference, I never heard anyone discuss what to do with those Christians who were still in pain after their pastor left.
Here’s a common scenario:
A pastor and the governing board aren’t getting along. The pastor wants to reach out more into the community and win people to Christ, while the board prefers to focus on building up Christians inside the church.
While a few people in the church are aware of the problem, most can’t tell there’s anything wrong at the top.
Until one day, the low-level conflict explodes into the congregation as a whole. Some people start accusing the pastor of various misdeeds. Rumors abound. Groups huddle together on Sundays. People begin taking sides.
And suddenly many of the people in this nice, loving church begin to demonize each another.
The pastor becomes so demoralized and battered that he can’t manage the conflict effectively. He feels rejected and plunges into depression. Some call for his resignation. Others mount a campaign to get rid of him.
His sin? He let the conflict happen – and he hasn’t yet fixed it.
While some people relish this kind of in-fighting, most believers lack the stomach for it. Some flee the church for good. Others stay at home and wait for more peaceful times. Some organize and press the pastor for his resignation and begin dreaming of taking over the church when he finally leaves.
Over on the sidelines, there’s a contingent of the church who are shocked by what’s happening. Everything they see and hear brings them pain. They love their pastor. They love the board and the staff. They have many friends in the church, and now they see Christians acting unchristian.
It grieves them. They’re confused, hurt, repulsed, demoralized, paralyzed.
These people watch their pastor resign. They watch some people rejoice at his departure. They watch as the church hires a transitional pastor and puts together a search team for a new pastor.
And all the while, nobody ever told them what the conflict was about or why their pastor left.
But they watch from the shadows because they don’t want to say or do anything that will make matters worse. Let’s call them Shadow Christians.
They just hope that when the transitional pastor comes, he will address their pain.
And they hope that someday, they’ll be able to express their sorrow to opinion-makers inside the church as well.
The interim pastor comes, and he preaches on unity, but he never addresses the concerns of the Shadow Christians, either through his messages or on an individual basis.
Then the transitional pastor leaves, and the new pastor is hired. Once again, the Shadow Christians hope that their new pastor will address their pain, but he assumes that the transitional pastor did all that, and besides, he’s eager to lead the church into winning new people for Christ.
So the Shadow Christians feel marginalized.
They lose their motivation for serving. They start finding reasons to miss a Sunday here or there.
And no one seems to notice.
Mind you, these people aren’t troublemakers. They’re the quiet, faithful people who built the church.
They prayed for the pastor, board, and staff every day. They discovered their spiritual gifts and used them excitedly. They gave sacrificially to the building campaign.
But now … they’re relegated to the shadows.
And because they’ve become hidden, they decide to slip away and see if anybody misses them.
And no one does.
So they leave … for good … still in pain.
Maybe, they hope, I will receive healing at my next church.
But they’re not eager to serve, or give, or even attend regularly … because they still hurt so bad.
And here’s the sad part … if someone had noticed them, and sat down with them, and listened to them, and cared about them, they might have experienced healing, and stayed in their church, and continued to be a blessing to others.
But rather than make waves, they slipped quietly out the back door … for the last time.
And by the time anyone noticed, they were long gone.
Who Introduced You to Your Favorites?
Posted in Personal Stories, Please Comment! on November 16, 2011| 4 Comments »
I have a little Thanksgiving project for you.
Think about all the people and things in life that you love the most: your spouse, friends, TV shows, books – you get the idea.
How were you first introduced to them?
While driving across the desert several days ago, it struck me how indebted I am to others for most of “my favorite things.”
For example, I am grateful to:
*my father for introducing me to Jesus, baseball cards, the Three Stooges, Christian books, the Dodgers and Lakers, and teaching me how to play sports.
*my mother for encouraging me to use the library, love Charlie Brown, enjoy The Good Twins – and for letting me stay home from Sunday night church to watch The Wizard of Oz.
*my brother John for making me a better player by playing baseball (with a tennis ball) in the backyard for years.
*my friend Lee who introduced me to comic books (at an early age), encyclopedias, and serious chess. (We played 98 games one summer. I won 49, he won 46, with three stalemates.)
*my grandmother, who gave an 8-year-old boy his first transistor radio, allowing him to hear Surfin’ USA and Puff the Magic Dragon for the first time.
*my friend Steve for deepening my love for sports, and whose burning desire to compete – making me a better player – resulted in our winning the “Top Jock” awards our senior year in high school.
*Mr. Remmel, my teacher in fifth and sixth grades, for introducing me to the soundtracks of The Music Man, West Side Story, and My Fair Lady, along with Peter, Paul, and Mary.
*my friend Ken for teaching me to play table tennis in his backyard and for inviting me to his church, where I later met my wife.
*my friends Kevin and Steve, who introduced me to baseball autographs when they acquired the signatures of Mickey Mantle and Whitey Ford at the Grand Hotel in Anaheim in the spring of 1967. (Several of us duplicated their experience – and their results – the following day.)
*my friend Dennis, who introduced me to the original Hawaii Five-O and playing one-on-one in the driveway.
*my friend Edmon who introduced me to The Beatles (on a camping trip) and Simon & Garfunkel (while playing chess at his house).
*my youth pastors John and Darryl, who introduced me to a serious study of Scripture while patiently answering my questions.
*my friend Dave, who introduced me to Bob Dylan, Johnny Carson, Breakfast Jacks, and humor in the sacred halls of our seminary.
*my father-in-law Earl, who introduced me to the wonders of acquiring a scholarly library – and allowed me to pursue his alluring daughter.
*my friend Tom, who showed me the latest Christian books and records at the Bible bookstore he ran, invited me to meet John Wooden, took me to see Star Wars, and introduced me to backpacking (in Glacier National Park).
*my son Ryan, who encouraged me to master Super Mario Brothers 3, Star Trek: The Next Generation, The Simpsons, Seinfeld, the Gin Blossoms, and the wonders of the Android.
*my wise and witty daughter Sarah, who introduced me to Napoleon Dynamite, the singalong versions of The Sound of Music and Les Miserables (she knows all the words), What About Bob?, The Office (on Christmas Day) and the importance of family heritage.
*my wife Kim, who showed me how to think big, go to plays and movies, travel overseas – and gave me a book on U2 (Walk On by Steve Stockman) that made me a lifelong fan.
*my friend Craig, who introduced me to Christian artists like Kim Hill, Susan Ashton, Iona, Margaret Becker, and Steven Curtis Chapman.
*my friends Russ and Ray, who showed me that a pastor and a former board chairman can be friends for life.
*Rick Steves, who introduced me to budgetary travel in Europe, thus broadening my thinking about the world – and causing me to constantly daydream.
*Dr. Archibald Hart, who introduced me to a wise integration of Scripture and psychology – as well as Mr. Bean.
*my friend Kimberley, who loaned me a DVD copy of Midsomer Murders, a British mystery show that allows my mind to travel back to England periodically.
I stumbled upon many other favorites myself, I guess, including the San Francisco Giants and 49ers, Van Morrison, the iPod and iTunes, Bach, Sherlock Holmes, 24, London, and Mozart, to name just a few.
How much poorer would my life be without all the wonderful people I’ve mentioned? I thank God for each and every one of them. Their willingness to share their passions and experiences with me have largely made me the person I am today.
It didn’t take long to compile this list. How about compiling one of your own?
If you send it to me, I promise to read it.
Happy Thanksgiving 2011!
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