This past weekend, while doing some work around the house, I was plagued by some ministry memories I thought I had long forgotten.
But the more I tried to push them down, the more they flooded my soul, and the only way I know to be rid of them is to write them down and share them.
So here goes …
Nearly 30 years ago, I pastored a church in Santa Clara, California … the heart of Silicon Valley, south of the San Francisco Bay.
Early in 1988, my all-time worst antagonist … a man I’ll call Bob … had returned to the church after a year’s absence. He ended up leading a rebellion against me for two primary reasons: he and his wife didn’t like our change in worship music (which the board unanimously supported) and some of the seniors griped to Bob that I didn’t care about them (if you knew them, you’d understand).
About twenty percent of the congregation ended up following Bob out of our church.
Rather than attend existing churches in the area, those refugees formed their own congregation in a school about a mile from our property … and used our church as their sole mission field.
A pastor who had left his church due to moral failure ended up doing a lot of guest speaking at that new church.
Even though their attendance was meager, Bob contacted the district minister with the stated goal of having his new church admitted both into the district and the denomination.
When I found out about Bob’s intent, I told the district minister, “If you recognize that renegade church, we will pull our church out of the district.”
And I meant it.
It just so happened that the denomination’s annual meetings were being held at the new Santa Clara Convention Center that June … just a few miles from our church … and my wife Kim had volunteered to lead the early childhood program.
I chose to serve with my wife and to help with her program for the upcoming annual meetings.
The festivities opened on a Wednesday night, and the facilities were spectacular. The early childhood program was located on the second floor, and that’s where I stayed that first night.
But someone quickly brought me some bad news.
Bob was in the lobby of the convention center handing out literature to pastors and delegates inviting them to his new church!
This was a complete breach of protocol. It just wasn’t done. The meetings were all about churches as a whole, not any one church in particular. Nobody went to the annual meetings and publicized their church at the expense of others.
Those who brought me this news also told me that Bob was not only publicizing his church, but taking verbal shots at me … the pastor of the only denominational church in Santa Clara … while I was serving God in a room upstairs.
Later that day, I found our district minister and asked him what he was going to do about Bob’s breach of protocol.
His reply?
“What can I do? I don’t have the authority to do anything.”
As far as I was concerned, that was the wrong answer.
I spoke with several of my pastoral colleagues, and they were appalled that Bob was passing out literature about his church … and that the district leadership was allowing it to happen.
Finally, a long-time pastor scooped up all of Bob’s literature (he wasn’t in the lobby at the time) … threw it out … came to me … and slapped his hands together as if to say, “That will take care of that.”
I don’t know how Bob reacted when he discovered that his literature had disappeared. Maybe he blamed me … maybe not.
But that incident is a microcosm of how denominations treat pastors when they’re assaulted by conflict:
First, many denominational leaders secretly hope that certain pastors and churches fail.
Bob was a formidable opponent. He wanted to turn our church back to the 1940s and 1950s.
I couldn’t reason with him, and neither could anyone on our board. He was a bully, and he was going to attack me until I resigned.
Several months before, my district minister had even recommended that I quit because of Bob’s attacks.
But I didn’t leave. I stayed … forcing Bob and his minions to depart instead.
I couldn’t figure out why my district minister wasn’t more supportive … until a pastoral colleague clued me into what was really happening.
My friend told me that district leaders wanted both me and our church to fail so they could take over the property … sell it … and use much of the proceeds to plant new churches.
Most denominational churches insert a clause into their governing documents that states that if the church dissolves, the property reverts to the denomination.
Although our church property sat on less than two acres, land in Silicon Valley at that time sold for one million dollars per acre.
What better way to secure a windfall than to force me out and take over the church?
If you’re skeptical that denominational officials do things like this, let me assure you … they do.
And in my case, I’m positive that’s what was happening.
Second, many denominational leaders claim they lack the ecclesiastical authority to resolve conflicts involving pastors.
This is precisely what my district minister told me: “I don’t have the authority to take any action toward Bob.”
Fine … maybe the DM didn’t have any official authority to deal with him.
Many denominational executives claim that they can’t interfere in the life of a congregation because churches are autonomous … that is, they govern themselves without any outside interference.
But let me tell you … when a district minister wants to interfere in a church situation and get rid of a pastor … he will.
My district minister at that time went back to his previous church, advised the board on how to get rid of their current pastor, and was present when the board demanded the pastor’s resignation.
Not only was it a total breach of ethics, he was also violating that church’s autonomy by interfering … and his influence led to a lawsuit.
In my case, I wanted someone to exercise moral and spiritual authority.
After all, what good is ecclesiastical authority if it doesn’t translate into moral and spiritual decisions?
Thank God, several of my fellow pastors did take action against Bob’s sabotage efforts … and I was grateful for their courage.
But if you’re looking for principled action, look away from the district office … because denominations are far more political than they are spiritual.
Finally, many denominational leaders are more interested in building their denomination than advancing Christ’s kingdom.
This was certainly true in our district.
I went to Talbot Seminary (now School of Theology), a non-denominational school. While there, I gravitated toward books written by British scholars like John Stott, J. I. Packer, Michael Green, F. F. Bruce, and D. Martyn Lloyd-Jones.
Those guys were my heroes.
I tried to think broadly, read widely, and view Christ’s kingdom internationally.
But when I started becoming involved with my church’s denomination, I was appalled at how narrow their thinking was.
For example, I served for several years on the district’s education committee. One day, I asked the chairman if I could invite Pastor Chuck Smith from Calvary Chapel Costa Mesa to speak to the pastors in our district. (I knew a pastor on that committee who was saved at one of Calvary’s concerts.)
At the time, Calvary Chapel may have been the largest church in the United States, and certainly was among the most influential churches anywhere in the world.
One of my best friends worked at Calvary with Pastor Chuck and I thought it would be great to have someone from outside the denomination talk about leadership.
My friend asked Chuck if he would speak for us, and Chuck said yes, so I went back to the chairman of the committee to deliver the news.
The chairman asked a district official if Chuck could come and speak. The official said that Chuck couldn’t come because there were plenty of denominational personnel who could speak to the leaders without going outside our own group.
Pretty lame excuse, if you ask me.
That same district official later criticized me for going to Talbot even though choosing a denomination wasn’t even on my radar when I selected a seminary to attend.
A lot of pastors at this point might say, “Okay, this group may identify its denomination with the kingdom of God, and they’re obviously mistaken, but I’ll suck it up, play the game, schmooze the right people, and maybe move up the ladder someday.”
But I can’t do that.
My wife and I have been watching the TV show Blue Bloods on Netflix. If you haven’t seen it, Tom Selleck plays Frank Reagan, the police commissioner of New York City. (And if you aren’t aware of this, Reagan’s family openly talks about their Catholic faith and often says grace before eating … a rarity on television.)
When faced with a dilemma, Reagan always wants to do the right thing. He always chooses principles over politics. He hates phoniness … meaningless social events… and speaks his mind at all times.
That’s me … and that’s why I resonate with Frank Reagan so well.
But I was never comfortable in my denomination. I was the wrong ethnicity … went to the wrong seminary … thought outside the box … and could not turn a blind ear to wrongdoing.
Many years ago, that district was holding a meeting one Saturday at my best friend’s church. I dutifully put on my suit (this was the early 1990s), got in my car, and drove down the expressway toward the church.
About a mile down the road, I thought to myself, “I hate these meetings. I don’t want to go … so why am I going?”
I turned around … went home … and never went to another one again.
My wife applauded me. She said, “You always come back from those meetings depressed.”
She was right … and I hate being depressed.
Fast forward 15 years.
In our last church, out of 400 adults, only seven people cared about our church’s affiliation with that denomination. Only seven.
One night, at a board meeting, a board member asked me what it would take to leave the denomination.
I told him that I didn’t want that to happen on my watch.
My wife later told me, “You made a mistake. You should have taken the church out.”
She repeated that same sentiment to me this past weekend.
But I didn’t want to do it. I thought I could just ignore them indefinitely.
When major conflict surfaced in my church in 2009, I discovered that my former district minister – who never once contacted me personally over a five-year period – was integrally involved in getting rid of me … even though he liked to claim, “I can’t interfere in local church conflicts.”
My wife was right … I should have led the church out of the denomination years before.
If I had, maybe I’d still be a pastor today.

Seven Warning Signs a Pastor is in Trouble
Posted in Conflict with Church Antagonists, Conflict with Church Board, Conflict with Church Staff, Conflict with the Pastor, Pastoral Termination, Please Comment!, tagged antagonism against the pastor, factions that oppose the pastor, opposition to the pastor, pastoral termination, staff resistance and rebellion against the pastor on August 8, 2016| Leave a Comment »
When a pastor is forced out of his position – either by the official board or by a church faction – he is often blindsided.
If it’s the board, they demand that he resign immediately, or else be fired.
If it’s a faction, they lack the authority to terminate him unilaterally, so they make demands – like threatening to leave the church or withhold their giving – unless the pastor quits.
When a pastor is ambushed, it feels like a form of betrayal, and it usually is. Many pastors have shared with me how devastated they were when they were surprised by leaders they trusted.
But in retrospect, there are usually warning signs of trouble ahead that the pastor missed, either because he didn’t want to see them or because his mind was focused instead on ministry objectives.
Let me share with you seven warning signs that a pastor is in trouble … and these come from my own experience:
First, the pastor stops hearing that he’s doing a good job.
Early in my ministry in my last church, people told me all the time what a great job I was doing. I remember one man who lobbied to get on the church board just so he could raise my salary. At times, the praise was almost embarrassing.
But toward the end of my tenure in that church, I heard almost nothing positive about my ministry. For weeks, nobody told me that they appreciated any of my sermons, which was unprecedented in my ministry there.
The lack of positive comments negatively affected my morale. Although I was trying to serve God … not just people … I liked knowing that I was effective, and when I didn’t hear anything, I wondered if I should continue.
Second, the pastor notices heightened attempts to control his ministry.
In my last ministry, I worked in collaboration with the church board for about 90% of my tenure. I didn’t tell the board what to do, and they didn’t tell me what to do. We had a great working relationship. They trusted me … I trusted them … and that’s how it had always been over my entire 36-year ministry career.
But over my last year, the board stopped trusting me, and I stopped trusting them. They starting micromanaging the money and, by extension, the ministry, and began making unilateral decisions outside of meetings and imposing them on me inside of meetings.
I’m sure that in their minds, they were just taking their responsibilities seriously, but they weren’t collaborating with me in any meaningful way, which I resented. It’s like I wasn’t even there.
When the board starts micromanaging the pastor’s time … or his expenses … or the church calendar … or a budget that’s already been approved … the board is trying to control the pastor … and this may mean that the ultimate control weapon – the pastor’s ouster – may be just around the corner.
Third, the pastor discovers that people who haven’t been friends are becoming friends.
This was something that my wife noticed more than me. She told me that board members who barely knew each other at the beginning of the year were now hanging out together socially and using affectionate terms like “bro.”
I knew the source of some of these friendships – a Bible study for men that met at the church on Monday evenings.
That same night, I always met with our programming team – the group that planned the worship services. On occasion, I’d walk upstairs and ask one of the men in the study if he could participate in a future service.
Looking back, many of the men who conspired to take me out were in that Bible study. I am not saying they used their time to plot my demise. I am saying that the study helped them form a bond that made it easier for them to run me out.
Fourth, the pastor experiences more external opposition than ever before.
I remember performing a wedding for a couple outside the church at a seaside resort and investing 32 hours of my time in that endeavor. Yet for the first time in my ministry career, I didn’t receive an honorarium … and I am positive the DJ, wedding hostess, resort, and caterer were not financially stiffed.
I also conducted a memorial service for an elderly man in our church who had died. I met with his daughter and told her I’d be doing the same kind of service I had done years before for her mother, and she approved. But ten days after the service, the daughter’s husband called and reamed me out for preaching the gospel in my own church and demanded that I apologize to him for doing so … which, of course, I didn’t do.
I remember asking myself, “What is in the air right now? It’s open season on me.” It’s like people weren’t praying for me anymore and that Satan was able to attack me directly.
Fifth, the pastor experiences more internal opposition than ever before.
There was a lady in our church I had known for years, and she asked if her son could be married in our worship center.
Even though our worship center was just a few years old, I had only conducted two weddings there, and they were both on the small side.
If someone was going to be married inside our worship center, I wanted to make sure that the couple were both Christians and that the wedding would be performed by an evangelical minister.
This lady told me that her son was a Christian, and that a pastor from out-of-town would be conducting the ceremony.
Since this was to be our first large-scale wedding in the worship center, I consulted with the associate pastor on this matter. Since I was going away on vacation, I asked him to verify that the couple were both Christians and that the pastor was an evangelical and, if everything checked out, to contact the future groom’s mother with our approval.
When I returned from my trip, the associate unilaterally cancelled the wedding without verifying anything.
The lady from our church … who was normally a very calm and pleasant individual … wrote me a blistering email of condemnation (evidently wedding invitations were being printed) … and I took the hit without ever revealing the decision by the associate pastor.
Knowing her contacts inside the church, I’m sure that my name was dragged through the mud for weeks.
Sixth, the pastor notices staff members becoming resistant and rebellious.
I was a staff member in five different churches, and I know how much it meant when the pastor trusted me to do my job and wasn’t always trying to micromanage me.
So that’s how I tried to treat members of the church staff … and at one time, we had as many as ten in my last church.
I inherited four staff members from my predecessor … I kept them all on … and I eventually had trouble with three of them.
I met with them regularly as individuals. We had a weekly staff meeting. I was always available for consultation or support.
But the word began to circulate among the staff, “If you’re having any trouble with Jim, just talk to the church’s founding pastor.”
And when those staff members did, they become resistant and rebellious.
We only fired one of them, but several others should have been fired because their actions declared, “I don’t have to listen to you anymore.”
Near the end, I was talking one day with a staff member who became angry and started accusing me of “coddling people” who weren’t Christians. It was totally unlike him … but I found out later that he was in contact with my predecessor … someone he had never met when he was hired.
When staff members and board members plot against the pastor, he doesn’t want to believe it … but it’s often a sure sign that both groups want more power … and that the pastor must go if they’re to gain it.
Finally, the pastor senses that church leaders no longer support the church’s mission.
I believe strongly in Jesus’ Great Commission to “make disciples of all the nations.” His charter for us isn’t to increase attendance … add people to the membership rolls … get people to join a denomination … or steal sheep from other churches.
Jesus’ charter is for His people to bring people to Christ … to baptize them … and to teach them from His Word … and that means learning how to share Christ with unbelievers and to bring them to your church.
Regardless of what they say, God’s people almost always want their church to be a place where their needs and the needs of their family are met … and yet the only way to win many unbelievers to Christ is to put their needs ahead of the needs of church members.
I had worked hard over the years to help our church become outreach-oriented – and the church board had always complied – but the last board I worked with didn’t support that mission … and I could give countless examples.
When the mission becomes about “us” rather than “those without Christ,” the pastor’s effectiveness will be limited … and he may be through.
I’ve listed seven signs that a pastor is in trouble, and I could have listed many more.
What signs have you seen?
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