When I was in high school, there was a girl at my church who liked me … and I knew she did.
Because I didn’t feel the same way, I tried never to say or do anything that would make her think I wanted to be more than friends.
She ended up going to my college, although I didn’t recall seeing her around campus.
One afternoon, as I was getting in my car to drive home, she came running toward me and asked if she could speak with me.
She asked me to forgive her.
She confessed that she had liked me for a long time, but because I didn’t reciprocate, she came to hate me instead … and her hatred was eating away at her so much that she wanted to get rid of it … by telling me how she felt.
I verbally forgave her on the spot, which seemed to help her feel better, and she left with a heavy load removed from her shoulders … and transferred onto mine.
But I’ve always remembered that encounter.
The good: it took a lot of courage for her to track me down at school and speak with me, and I’m sure she felt better after our little talk … but I never saw her again.
The bad: I wish she hadn’t told me that she had hated me for several years. I started wondering, “Who else hates me but hasn’t told me?”
Scripture encourages God’s people to deal with interpersonal issues as they arise. Paul writes in Ephesians 4:26-27:
‘In your anger do not sin’; Do not let the sun go down while you are still angry, and do not give the devil a foothold.
Paul tells us four things in these two verses:
*It’s normal for believers to feel anger at times.
*It’s possible to be angry without sinning.
*We are commanded to resolve our anger before nightfall.
*When we let our anger fester, Satan gains an entry point into our lives.
Please note that pastors and church leaders are included – not excluded – in these verses.
Unresolved anger can turn into bitterness, and Satan loves to take one person’s bitterness and disseminate it throughout a family … or a church.
As I often say, division in a church starts when people begin to pool their grievances … usually against their pastor.
So God’s counsel to all of us is:
RESOLVE YOUR ANGRY FEELINGS AS SOON AS POSSIBLE … AND RESTORE BROKEN RELATIONSHIPS AT YOUR FIRST OPPORTUNITY.
If every Christian did this, we’d have fewer conflicts in churches, and fewer pastors would ever experience the heartbreak of a forced termination.
But many … if not most … believers fail to deal with offenses as they arise, so they hoard their grievances – which eats them up alive – and end up passing them on to others.
Bitterness then becomes a cancer that eats away at the joy and effectiveness of people’s lives.
People then tell themselves, “I can’t get rid of my anger until I get rid of the object of my anger” … in all too many cases, the pastor.
Let me share two stories that present opposite ways of handling an issue with a pastor.
The first story involves confronting a pastor immediately about an offense.
One Easter many years ago, a man in my church ended our first service with a performance song. As the singers and musicians gathered at the front to receive directions for the second service, this gentleman approached me and accused me of saying something derogatory about him right after the service.
I assured the man that I did not say what he claimed, but he was adamant. (It’s not something I would even think, much less say about another person.)
If I apologized to him, it would be a lie … but if I didn’t apologize to him, I knew he was going to spread my “offense” to as many people as possible.
I’m glad he came to me directly before he said anything to anyone else.
But he couldn’t have chosen a worse time.
I understand that singers and musicians can be very sensitive … especially on a big Sunday like Easter.
But pastors can be sensitive as well … especially right before or after they preach.
That’s a sacred time for a pastor.
I can remember times in my ministry where I was so shook up over something someone said before a sermon that I couldn’t wait to finish my sermon and go home.
One person’s need to “unload” can impact an entire congregation.
So if you do need to speak with your pastor about an issue you feel strongly about … wait until he’s done preaching for the day first … or you might indirectly harm your church family.
Or better yet … calm down … forgive him from the heart … and then either speak with him or let it go.
Dr. Archibald Hart believes that before we confront someone, we should first forgive them, and only then should we confront them.
Because otherwise, we may confront them in anger … as the singer did with me … and we end up making matters worse.
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The second story involves waiting two decades to confront a pastor.
In his book Love in Hard Places, theologian D. A. Carson tells about the time a Christian friend took Carson aside.
The friend told Carson that he wanted a private word with him because Carson had offended him. So the two of them arranged a meeting, and Carson’s friend told Carson about an incident that had happened twenty-one years earlier.
Carson and his friend were having a theological discussion and his friend quoted a few words from an author who had written in French. Because Carson grew up speaking French, Carson repeated the French words after his friend because he was unconsciously correcting his pronunciation.
Carson’s friend didn’t say anything at the time, but several decades later, he told Carson, “I want you to know, Don, that I have not spoken another word of French from that day to this.”
Carson apologized for offending his friend, but upon later reflection, Carson felt “there was something profoundly evil about nurturing a resentment of this order for twenty-one years.”
After all, how can you even remember what happened if the incident occurred so long ago?
Hold onto that last line as you read the next story.
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This is my concern about the “Me Too” movement in our culture right now.
It’s not only in the culture … it’s spread to Christ’s church as well.
WORLD Magazine – a Christian publication – ran an article recently that greatly disturbed me.
Twenty years ago, a twenty-two-year-old youth pastor took a seventeen-year-old high school senior girl on a date.
They parked on a secluded road. He asked her to do something to him that was wrong.
She started doing it … he realized how wrong it was … and he got out of his car, collapsed, and repeated over and over how sorry he was.
This young man confessed his wrongdoing to the young woman.
He also apologized to the girl’s family and her discipleship group, as well as the church staff and the church leadership.
(Most people … even in ministry … would not speak to as many people as that young man did in admitting what he had done wrong.)
And when he admitted his sin, he lost his job.
(I might add, in that state, seventeen is still an age of legal consent.)
This young man ended up moving to another state and eventually becoming a staff member in another church. Several decades later, he became a teaching pastor in that same church.
He is married with five sons.
The pastor believes that his sin “was dealt with … twenty years ago.” He disclosed his sin to the leaders of his former church … to his wife before they married … and to the staff of his new church before joining the ministry.
The woman contends that the original church hid the youth pastor’s specific sin from the congregation and then allowed him to resign without public confession. She claims they engaged in a “big cover up.”
But the pastor said, “Until now, I did not know there was unfinished business with [her.]”
The pastor has been placed on a leave of absence. There is now an online petition calling for the pastor’s resignation, and a book that he’s written has had its publication date canceled.
Because of the backlash of the Me Too movement, there is now a Christian backlash against this pastor as well.
What does this story tell us about the forgiveness of sin among believers … and pastors?
Maybe the following story can shed some light on this situation.
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In his book Pleasing God, the late R. C. Sproul – one of my favorite theologians – tells the following story:
“When I was in seminary, I was a student minister in a small church. I insulted the daughter of a woman who was a pillar of the church. The daughter was deeply offended. I went to her and apologized profusely. She refused to forgive me. I went two more times and apologized literally in tears. Still she refused to forgive me.”
Sproul continues:
“Eventually, the time came for my monthly meeting with the minister who was my pastoral supervisor. He was an eighty-five-year-old retired missionary who had spent fifty years in the interior of China and five of those years in a communist prison camp. He was a man of extraordinary godliness. I went to him with deep embarrassment for the mess I had made of my first pastoral experience. I told him what I had done. He listened carefully and then replied calmly: ‘Young man, you have made two serious mistakes. The first is obvious. You should not have insulted the daughter. The second mistake is this: you should not have apologized three times. After the first apology, the ball was in her court. By refusing to forgive you, she is heaping coals of fire upon her head.'”
But … and I know this from firsthand experience … a single person who is angry with a pastor can destroy his reputation and career.
We’re living in the time of “one strike and you’re out … forever.”
Most of the time, if someone tries to destroy their pastor, they will indirectly destroy their church as well.
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When I left my last church in December 2009, I knew what was going to happen.
Everybody and anybody who didn’t like me was going to float their grievances against me to others in the congregation.
Although I made mistakes during my 10 1/2 years in that church … as I did in every congregation … I felt I made far fewer mistakes there than in any church I’d ever served.
And yet, how ironic that soon after I left, I was charged with committing far more mistakes in that church than in all my other ministries combined.
When a pastor is charged with wrongdoing, those accusations may or may not say something about him … but they almost always say something profound about his accuser(s).
I’m reminded of Jesus’ words in Matthew 6:14-15:
“For if you forgive men when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive men their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins.”
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My wife and I just received a bill for nearly a thousand dollars. It was for medical care that she had received fifteen months ago.
We were very upset about the bill, as you might imagine.
In fact, we were positive we had paid that bill completely.
My wife contacted the medical office, but they said that we owed the money.
When we did some research, we discovered that we did in fact owe the money … but that it took the medical office seven months to send the bill to us.
I hate it when that happens.
And I hate it when somebody hoards a grievance against me … especially when I assume that our relationship is fine … when it isn’t really fine at all.
It’s unbearable for a pastor to ask himself, “I wonder who is going to tell me that they hate me next?”
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Pastors make mistakes, and they need to admit their mistakes … ask for forgiveness … and, if necessary, engage in restitution if it’s required.
But pastors aren’t angels, either, and when they sin and repent, they need to be forgiven … or their career and reputation can be destroyed.
I saw a video last night of a shepherd and his flock. It’s here:
The flock knocks the shepherd over, but when he tries to get up, another sheep charges at the shepherd and knocks him down.
It’s actually pretty funny.
But what isn’t funny is when a pastor does something wrong … admits it … tries to make things right … and is knocked over by the sheep anyway.
Your thoughts?
Six Causes of Pastoral Paranoia
Posted in Conflict with Church Board, Conflict with the Pastor, Pastoral Termination, Please Comment!, tagged fear in ministry, pastor termination, pastors who are paranoid on February 16, 2018| 2 Comments »
The late 1960s band Buffalo Springfield (featuring Stephen Stills, Neil Young, and present-day Calvary Chapel pastor Richie Furay) didn’t last very long, but they had one big hit song to their name: “For What It’s Worth.”
Describing an encounter with police on the Sunset Strip in Los Angeles, the final verse says:
Paranoia strikes deep
Into your life it will creep
It starts when you’re always afraid
Step out of line, the man come, and take you away
Those words encapsulate not only how it feels to be caught in a mass protest, but also how it feels to be the pastor of a church in the 21st century.
It is possible for a pastor to love the Lord and his congregation and yet feel emotionally insecure and even petrified at times.
Or as a famous Christian leader once said in an interview, “I’m always running scared.”
As I reflect on my 36 years of church ministry, I can identify at least six occasions when I felt a degree of pastoral paranoia:
First, when somebody came up to me and said, “Pastor, I need to make an appointment to talk to you about something.”
People would usually say that before or after a Sunday service, and my first reaction would be, “Did I say or do something to offend them?”
I’d ruminate over our relationship and see if I could guess why they were coming to see me.
*Were they angry with something I said in a sermon?
*Were they upset with a leadership decision I’d made?
*Were they ticked off at a staff member?
*Were they upset with the way the church was managing funds?
There were times when I tried so hard to guess their concerns that I couldn’t sleep.
But more than 90% of the time, I’d guess wrong. As Tom Petty sang, “Most things I worry about, never happen anyway.”
They usually wanted to talk to me about their spouse, or their kids, or their boss, or a friend … and they didn’t have anything negative to say to me.
But on a few occasions, someone did come in with guns blazing … and those times … however rare … stayed with me for years.
And they tended to impact every subsequent occasion when someone told me, “Pastor, I need to talk to you …”
Second, when I didn’t hear any encouraging words after a sermon.
Preaching is a funny thing.
Sometimes I’d prepare what I thought was a great message, and hardly anybody would comment on it afterward.
Other times, I’d come to the pulpit feeling dry and uninspired, and I’d receive many uplifting comments afterwards.
In my last church, I spoke to 300+ adults every Sunday. If just two people said something positive about a message, I felt that I had done my job.
But if nobody said a word, I’d feel like a failure … and would start to wonder, “Am I losing it?”
When I first started preaching, I stood at the door and greeted everyone after the service was done. I came to hate that time because (a) some people would avoid me altogether, (b) some people would say perfunctory things (“good message, pastor”), and (c) I couldn’t take much time to listen or pray with people.
So after a while, I stopped engaging in the “glorifying the worm” ceremony (in the words of Joe Aldrich) and just stood at the front where I had time to listen to people or pray with them after the service.
Since traffic was flowing out of the worship center … not toward the front … it was natural that I wouldn’t hear most people’s thoughts after a message.
But based on a lack of information, I sometimes wondered, “Could my preaching days be over?”
Third, when someone falsely accused me of wrongdoing.
In baseball, it’s still true that “three strikes and you’re out.”
But in church ministry, it’s increasingly true that just one strike can cause the termination of your position … and your career.
Someone once accused me of doing something that I did not do.
I did something … someone became angry … and then they attached a label to my behavior that completely misrepresented my actions.
The church board became involved, and although they didn’t declare me guilty, it felt like I had a cloud over me for years.
Because if somebody wanted to hurt me, all they had to say was, “Did you know that Jim was guilty of _______________?”
And if I was one of the last ones to hear the accusation … as can happen with pastors … my ministry … and possibly my career … could have been over.
Pastors are aware that people talk about them all the time.
When you’re first in ministry, it bothers you a great deal. But the longer you’re in ministry, the more you expect to be discussed … and even dissected.
But when you’re slandered … and every pastor is lied about to some degree … the official board needs to use a fair and just process to evaluate those accusations … or they might choose to take the easy road instead.
The easy road involves telling the pastor, “We’re sorry, but even though you may be innocent of the charges going around the church, so many believe them by this time that we don’t see how you can stay and pastor this congregation.”
The knowledge that just one devastating false allegation can end a pastor’s ministry forever is enough to make even the most godly man shake in his boots.
And that possibility can make any pastor paranoid.
Fourth, when an influential Christian leader came to hear me preach.
During my first pastorate, an older pastor and his wife visited our Sunday service one morning.
After the sermon, the pastor’s wife shook my hand at the door and said, “Good diction.”
Good diction? That was the best she could say?
Around the same time, our district minister … a popular preacher in his own right … visited our church and heard me preach on repentance.
He praised my message up and down … and later told me, “You’re the best preacher in Northern California.”
The truth was somewhere in between. I was a better preacher than “good diction” but definitely not “the best preacher” for miles around!
As a pastor, if an influential Christian leader was visiting my church the following Sunday, I preferred not to know about it ahead of time.
Because if I did, I was liable to over-prepare my sermon and not be myself. A pastor does his best preaching when he’s relaxed in the Lord.
The office manager at one of my churches had a father who was a seminary professor.
One Easter, he came to visit, and came up to me after the service and said, “Great message!”
The more “good dictions” a pastor gets, the more paranoid he becomes in the pulpit.
But the more “great messages” he gets, the less paranoid he becomes.
But as every pastor knows, you’re only as good as your last sermon.
Fifth, when I was making a controversial statement in a sermon.
The trend back in the 1980s and 1990s was for a pastor to write out a manuscript of his sermon.
The manuscript demonstrated preparation … and required exact wording.
The trend today is for a pastor to speak without notes, and although I can do that, I prefer to have structure when I speak … or I’m afraid I’ll just ramble on and on.
Over time, I learned that the more controversial the topic, the more precise … and even diplomatic … I had to be with my words … or I might needlessly offend the very people I was trying to instruct.
As my hearers can attest, I never shied away from anything controversial. Just preaching the Bible is controversial enough!
But I often wondered, “Who might be offended by this sermon?”
During my final year, I gave a sermon celebrating sex inside marriage from 1 Corinthians 7:1-5. I received a terrific response from some people, but some seniors were so upset with me that they promised to boycott the rest of the series on marriage.
The best pastors are bold when they preach, but when people protest against you for preaching the Word of God … that can make you paranoid.
Finally, when churchgoers told their previous pastor about me.
During my last pastorate, my predecessor visited our church one time, and while we were talking, I discovered that he knew all about the false accusation I mentioned earlier.
I tried to explain what happened from my vantage point, but I’m uncertain how much he believed me.
Then he told me, “So-and-so calls me all the time to complain about you.”
It wasn’t a surprise. I figured that was the case.
So to what degree could I trust my predecessor and So-and-so after that?
There was a group of people in that church who were more loyal to my predecessor than to me.
Some held leadership positions when he was pastor, but for biblical reasons, I could not let them be leaders.
So they constantly called or emailed him, and when he came to town … which he did a few times a year … they would get together.
And, in many ways, those people were responsible for pushing me out as pastor.
An older man came up to me one time and said, “I drove up to see (your predecessor) recently. We talked about you!”
What a stupid, insensitive comment that was.
And over time, such comments can make a pastor wonder if there’s a plot to get rid of him.
And in my case, there was … and my predecessor was heavily involved.
_______________
This article isn’t meant to be the last word on pastoral paranoia, but merely a starting point.
There are two extremes that pastors must avoid when it comes to paranoia:
If a pastor trusts everybody, his ministry could be over.
John writes about Jesus in John 2:24-25, “But Jesus would not entrust himself to them, for he knew all men. He did not need man’s testimony about man, for he knew what was in a man.”
Jesus did not arrive in public and loudly proclaim, “Hey, everybody, I’m the Messiah!” No, He gradually revealed that information only to select individuals … and only as they were able to grasp it.
He reserved certain actions and words for The Twelve but not the multitudes. There are things about a pastor his congregation never needs to know.
Share the wrong thing with the wrong person … and your ministry could be history.
But if a pastor stops trusting everyone, then his ministry will eventually die.
A pastor has to trust his inner circle. If he can’t, his ministry won’t last very long.
Jesus trusted His inner circle … Peter, James, and John … to the point where only they observed Him feeling “sorrowful and troubled” … and only they heard Him say, “My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death. Stay here and keep watch with me” (Matthew 26:37-38).
For whatever reason, Jesus didn’t want His other eight disciples to witness His emotional distress in Gethsemane. He was willing to be transparent with only three.
During my last ministry, I trusted very few individuals with my innermost thoughts and feelings.
Several people proved trustworthy, and as far as I know, they have kept my confidences to this day.
But someone else did not.
I remember two extended conversations I had with a key leader. I shared with him some struggles I was having, and later on, that information was used against me.
Since I shared that information only with him, I knew where the leak originated.
I’m reminded of the old joke about the three preachers who met and decided to confess their sins to each other.
The first preacher said, “I really struggle with alcohol.”
The second preacher admitted, “I really struggle with lust.”
The third preacher exclaimed, “I really struggle with gossip, and I can’t wait to tell others about you two!”
Since all too many of God’s people struggle with gossip, it’s best if pastors share their innermost thoughts and feelings with only a handful of trustworthy individuals … preferably from outside his congregation.
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In my fifth year of pastoral ministry, I sank into a deep depression because the ministry was not going well.
My wife was greatly concerned for my well-being. I was barely functioning.
She told me she was going to find me a Christian counselor. I told her, “Just find the best-educated person you can.”
She finally found someone with two doctoral degrees.
I drove 35 minutes each way to see him twice a week for four months.
I never breathed a word about my counseling visits to anybody in the church other than my wife.
Christians have a way of panicking when they hear their pastor is hurting. It’s unrealistic, but many churchgoers need a pastor who is always strong and even superhuman.
And when they hear the pastor isn’t doing well emotionally, they easily imagine the worst.
Years later, after I overcame that depression, I felt comfortable sharing my counseling experience both while preaching and in writing so I could help others to lessen the stigma of going for counseling.
While it was important that I become more emotionally healthy, neither the church board nor the congregation needed to know the process God used to help me become functional again.
That was between the Lord and my wife and me.
Let me ask this question of you:
What else causes pastoral paranoia?
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