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Archive for the ‘Pastoral Termination’ Category

Picture this scenario inside a church:

Pastor Mike has served as senior pastor of Mercy Church for 12 years.  During that time, the church has doubled in size and donations.

By any measure, Mike’s tenure at Mercy has been a success.

But due to the increased flow of guests, Pastor Mike has told the governing board that the church either needs to (a) add a third service, or (b) make additional room in the worship center … which might mean knocking out the side walls and expanding the seating.

For some reason … and Mike doesn’t know why … the board seems resistant to both ideas.  In fact, at the last board meeting, Mike sensed that the attitude of several board members was, “We aren’t going to get behind your suggestions no matter what.  We’re drawing a line.”

It depressed Pastor Mike to think that Mercy wouldn’t want to reach more people for Jesus … but he wondered if there were some church leaders who simply didn’t want to follow his leadership anymore.

Over the next few months, Mike learned that his instincts were correct.  Along with three board members, two staff members had also become resistant to Mike’s leadership.

Then one day, Pastor Mike discovered that those board members and staffers were holding secret meetings.

Mike began to have anxiety attacks … which led to panic attacks … which scared him so much that he began to withdraw from all but essential church meetings and activities.

But now he had given additional ammunition to the Gang of Five.  In their eyes, not only was Mike pushing too hard to reach new people, he was also acting in an aloof manner.

So they moved in for the kill.

At the next meeting of the governing board, the chairman presented Mike with a letter, claiming that he was distancing himself from people … resisting the board’s leadership … and was no longer qualified to be the church’s pastor.

Then followed the coup de grace … Mike was asked for his resignation.

After negotiating a severance package, Mike quit … with nowhere to go.

Over the following year, Mike cut off all contact with 95% of the people from Mercy Church.  It was very painful for him … he didn’t want to do it … but he realized that for his own sanity and wellbeing, he had to.

Taking this step felt counter to all that he believed, but he felt he had no choice.  Mike couldn’t bear to see Facebook stories involving church families getting together … featuring photos of those who pushed him out.

So here are the steps Mike took to stop contact:

*Mike reviewed his friends on Facebook and unfriended everybody from the church except those who had explicitly told/showed him they wanted to stay friends.

*Mike reviewed his contacts on LinkedIn and Twitter and did the same.

*Mike cut off all contact with anyone in Christian ministry who seemed to take the side of his detractors, including denominational leaders, parachurch leaders, and pastor friends.

*Mike tossed all email addresses and phone numbers of anyone and everyone who did not stand with him during his conflict at Mercy.

Do Mike’s actions seem extreme?

Some would say, “Absolutely.  Pastor Mike should be building bridges to repair relationships rather than putting up barricades to end them.”

But in many ways, I am just like Pastor Mike.  When I left my last church ministry nearly 6 1/2 years ago, I had to face some cold-hearted realities, even though they flew in the face of what I believe about Christian unity and relationships.

I had to cut myself off from most of the people in my last church … including ministry friends.

Let me share with you four reasons why I did this:

First, I cut off contact with most church attendees because I was never going to see them again.

The relationship we had was pastor-parishioner.  That was it.

And when I resigned, that relationship was over forever.

I was no longer responsible for their spiritual welfare, and they were no longer responsible for listening to me … supporting me … or praying for me.

May as well acknowledge it and let everybody move on.

I’ve never told this story before, but nearly three months after my departure, I had to return to my previous church to move more than twenty boxes of files I had left behind.

When I walked through the worship center balcony upstairs, I saw the daughter of a woman who had just turned 100 years old below.  This woman had been one of my biggest supporters for years, and I always assumed I would conduct her memorial service.

But it wasn’t to be.  The daughter was present because her mother had just died … and someone else … who didn’t know her … would be conducting the service instead.

No longer marrying or burying people that you love is one of the many prices a forced-out pastor has to pay after he leaves a church … and one he must accept to get better.

I also didn’t want to hear about what was going on in the church … good or bad … and that was the basis of most of my church friendships.

So I had to cut people off.

Second, I cut off contact with some church leaders because they had planned my demise.

It’s painful to face the truth, but when church leaders conspire to get rid of a pastor, they are not just ending their professional relationships with him … they are also ending their personal relationships with him.

By their actions, they are telling their pastor, “We never want to see you or hear from you again.  You are dead to us.”

Why keep in contact with people who either hate you or, at the very least, despise you?  There’s nothing to work out.

One church leader seemed to stand with me in public, but when he sensed the politics were shifting, he changed his stance … trying to play both sides of the fence.

I heard from him the month after I left … but after that, never again.

He followed me on Twitter, but I figured he was monitoring what I saying, so I cut him off … for good.

Although we had many wonderful memories together, our relationship was finished.

Third, I cut off contact with several pastor friends because they were more loyal to my predecessor than to me.

Years ago, I formed a luncheon group composed of four pastor friends from our denomination plus me.  We met every month for lunch … got together every Christmas for dinner … and visited each other’s homes/churches on occasion.

I was especially close to one of the pastors, considering him my best friend … and not just in ministry.

As time went on, two of those friends moved to pastorates in different states.  Both went through forced terminations, and I did my best to be there for both of them.

Years later, when I went through my own forced termination, they both called me months later to find out what happened.

(As I wrote in my book Church Coup, my predecessor … who had brought me to the church initially … played a part in forcing me out of office.)

As I shared my story with my friends, it was obvious that our friendships had changed dramatically.

With one friend, when I shared the part my predecessor played, he said something that indicated that my predecessor had already spoken with him … and that my side didn’t matter to him.

I waited several years, but my pastor friends didn’t lift a finger to help me or stay in contact.

In other words, it was obvious that for whatever reason, our friendship was history.

And so one day, I unfriended them both from Facebook and took them off LinkedIn.

That happened three years ago.  I’m grateful for the many years I enjoyed their friendship … and maybe living in different states had something to do with it … but I can’t imagine resurrecting those relationships.

So regretfully, rather than waiting for them to take my side or give me some encouragement, I cut them off.

Finally, I cut off contact with anyone who needed a long explanation as to why I left my last church.

For a long time after I was forced out, the injustice of it all was all I could talk about.  That obsessive mindset – “God’s people treated me unfairly, and I’d like to tell you about it” – is toxic.

You’re aware that you’re spewing poison, so you limit who you talk to … and for how long … because you don’t want to lose more friends than you already have.

But telling that story repeatedly drains you of the energy you need just to survive.  You’re digging your own emotional grave.

Now I feel the opposite.  I don’t want to talk about what happened … unless it’s for professional purposes.

God gave me a story, so I’ll refer to it in my blogs … while consulting with Christian leaders … and in any workshops I do on church conflict.

But other than that, I’d rather talk about the presidential race … or the 2016 baseball season … or how fun my grandsons are.

Since I left my last ministry, I’ve wondered if anyone involved in ending my ministry … and career … would ever contact me directly and say, “I’m so sorry for the part I played in your leaving.  Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?”

The answer would immediately be, “Of course I will forgive you.  In fact, you may not be aware of this, but I forgave you a long time ago.”

But not one leader or attendee has ever done that.

I don’t want my health and happiness to be dependent upon waiting for people to repent, so I’ve chosen to remain friends with those who:

*love me outside of my last church experience.

*love me in spite of my last church experience.

*love me and believe that I was unfairly treated.

*love me in spite of the fact that I write about every angle of pastoral termination on a regular basis.

I’m a huge Beatles fan and think often of the lyrics to the bridge of their song “We Can Work It Out”:

“Life is very short, and there’s no time for fussing and fighting, my friend

I have always thought that it’s a crime, so I will ask you once again

Try to see it my way, only time will tell if I am right or I am wrong … ”

When I was a pastor, I tried to be friends with everyone in the church.

It was expected of me.

Now that I’m not a pastor, I can choose who my friends are.

And I can choose who they aren’t.

Before I left my last ministry, I assumed I was friends with many people in the church … including staff members, board members, and key leaders.

But if they didn’t want to be friends with me anymore, then I follow Paul’s words in Romans 12:18:

“If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone.”

But for those who don’t want to live in peace … I sadly but firmly cut them off … without regret or guilt.

And look forward to complete reconciliation around the throne of God.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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I am not entirely comfortable with today’s topic: why some people hate their pastor … but some issues grab me and won’t let me go.

Over the past few weeks, I have not been able to mentally censor this nagging question:

Why do some board members/staff members/church members hate their pastor enough to force him to leave?

Let’s admit that this is a real issue in many situations where a pastor is terminated.  Sometimes the driving force in a pastoral termination is the personal hatred someone has for their pastor … especially in smaller church settings.

Why is this so?

First, some people hate their pastor because he doesn’t adopt their viewpoints on church matters.

There are people in every church who think they know how to run the church better than their God-called minister.

Maybe they do … but they haven’t been entrusted by God … or by the congregation … with the same amount of decision-making authority as their pastor.

I don’t understand such people.  It would be far more sensible … and much less divisive … if such a person either (a) chose to wait and see how some of the pastor’s decisions worked out, or (b) left the church quietly and didn’t make a fuss.

But when people go public against their pastor … even if only inside their own social network … they usually don’t back down or they’re afraid of losing face.

Second, some people hate their pastor because they don’t like his ministry style.

I served under five senior pastors as a staff member over nearly 11 years.

One pastor let me run the ministry the way I wanted.  Another pastor gave me a running commentary every week on how I was doing.

One pastor used to come into my office and solicit my opinion on church matters.  Another pastor spent most of our time together talking about himself.

Several pastors were loud and opinionated; a couple were thoughtful and reflective.

Some complimented me on a regular basis; others rarely said anything encouraging or kind.

I always felt that it was my job to adapt to them and their style.  It was not their job to adapt to me and my style.

But some board members … and especially staff members … believe that the pastor needs to adjust his leadership style to them, not the other way around.

And when a pastor doesn’t make this adjustment, some people will secretly hate him.

Third, some people hate their pastor because he once offended them.

In 36 years of church ministry, I can count on two hands the number of people who came to me and said, “Jim, you said or did something that really offended me, and I’d like to see if we can work this out between us.”

Most of the time, I’d hear something like this instead: “Jim, So-and-So is really upset with you.”

But when most people are upset with their pastor, they don’t want him to know … so they don’t tell him directly.

In some respects, I get this.

When a church is smaller, it’s easier for people to speak with their pastor directly.  He’s more accessible … easier to know … and his reactions are more predictable.

As a church grows larger, it becomes more difficult for people to speak with their pastor one-on-one.  The pastor might not be visible after a weekend service … or attempts to speak with him might result in his saying, “Call me at church during the week so we can set up an appointment.”

That’s great … but what if you can’t leave work to do that?

And what if you can … but you chicken out before making that appointment?

But why blame the pastor when he doesn’t know how the offended party feels?

It’s irrational … but sadly, all too common.

______________

Let me share with you some things I’ve never shared – not even in my book Church Coup – about why I ultimately left my last ministry.

*It wasn’t because I committed a major offense, because I didn’t.

*It wasn’t because the church was going down the tubes, because it wasn’t.

*It wasn’t because I wasn’t doing my job, because I was … although I was wearing down toward the end without knowing why.

*It wasn’t because of anything my wife did or didn’t do … even though that was the presenting charge … because she was ultimately exonerated by a 9-person team from inside the church.

No, the real reason I left my last ministry was because two Christian leaders hated me.

One leader was inside the church … and one leader was outside the church.

But why did these leaders hate me?  I certainly did not hate them.

The leader inside the church had his own agenda.  In my view, he wanted to control the money so he could control the ministry.  He never seemed to listen to anything I said, but he wanted me to listen to him, even though I tried but rarely understood his points.  He engineered my departure from within but did not speak with me personally about any of his concerns.

The leader outside the church had an agenda as well.  I’ve protected his reputation for many years, even though he used a scorched earth policy against me.  When the time is right, I may reveal more … not to be vindictive, but to illustrate why some pastors are forced out of their church positions.

How do I know these two men hated me?

*They never told me directly how they felt.

There are many disobeyed commands in Scripture, but Jesus’ words in Matthew 18:15-17 have to be right up near the top.

Jesus is pretty clear: “If your brother sins [and that includes your pastor], go and reprove him in private.  If he listens to you, you have won your brother.”

Whatever I said or did that offended these men, they never loved me enough to sit down and say, “Hey, Jim, there is something between us.  Let’s try and work this out together.”

So I assumed that everything was fine … until I was ambushed and betrayed.

*They both spread their feelings to other Christians.

If I tell you that I’m angry with my pastor, you should say to me, “Why are you telling me this?  Go speak with him at once and work things out.”  If you’re too scared to speak with him directly, then take it to the Lord in prayer and let it go … or find a friend or family member who lives several states away and share your feelings with them.

But keep those feelings out of your church, or you may destroy a lot of lives.  Hatred … even of a Christian leader … can be contagious.

Because if I tell you that I’m enraged at my pastor, you may very well add some petty grievances of your own to my complaint.  If I tell my wife about my anger, she may add her own complaints as well.

Before long, I’m focusing only on how the pastor offended me, my wife, and my friends rather than looking out for the best interests of the church long-term.

If these men had come to me, we could have worked things out.  If I was wrong, I would have admitted my part.  I can be sensitive, but I’m also reasonable.

But they never came to me … but did go to others.

The result?  A firestorm.

*They tried to destroy my reputation.

The wife of the leader from inside the church called a friend of mine in another state to criticize me.

The leader from outside the church called another friend to rag on me for a different matter.

In both cases, the callers were hoping that those they called would be receptive to their harsh criticisms.

In both cases, the callers ended up being more loyal to me than to my critics … and told me who called them and what they said.

Six months after I left my last church, I made an appointment with the district leader of a denomination other than the one I had been in for years.  My hope was that I might be able to do some guest speaking in churches … just to be useful.

When I started telling him my story about what happened in my former church, he had already heard it, and guessed the name of the church before I even mentioned it … as well as the name of a leader who pushed me out.

It shook me up, and I never sent him my resume or a preaching DVD because I assumed … rightly or wrongly … “Everybody in the Christian world must know about my situation, so why proceed any further?”

In some ways, I still feel that way.

*They did all in their power to force me to resign.

I cannot imagine hating a pastor so much that you would do all in your power to force him out of office.

In my book Church Coup, I wrote the following:

“I have a theory about the mentality of those who seek to target a pastor they don’t like.  Because they sense that what they’re doing is wrong, they have to (a) exaggerate any charges to the level of a capital crime; (b) find others who agree with them to alleviate their guilt; (c) justify their actions by convincing themselves it’s for the common good; and (d) work up their hatred so they follow through with their plan.  While this progression sounds like the kind of diabolical rage one might find in politics or war (or the prelude to a murder), the last place we’d expect to find such irrationality is inside a church.”

But in all too many cases, that irrationality thrives.

*They never spoke with me again after I resigned.

One of these two men was one of my best friends for at least ten years.  He contacted me every few months, even when we lived hundreds of miles apart.

But when our conflict was brewing in the fall of 2009, the consultant I hired told me that my “friend” was involved in the conflict.

Three other Christian leaders told me about his involvement afterward.  One of them told me, “You’ve been undermined for years without your knowledge, and it’s amazing that your church has done so well during that time.”

Maybe we’ll reunite in heaven.

_______________

You might be wondering, “Jim, have you forgiven these men who hated you?”

Yes, I believe I have … if we’re talking about unilateral forgiveness.

Two months after I resigned and left my former church, I drove nearly 800 miles back to my former community to pick up some valuables that were being stored at a friend’s house.

That night, I stayed in our old house one last time.  (It was up for sale but still on the market.)

I took a walk around the old neighborhood, sat on a bench in a small park … and looked directly across at the house of the leader inside the church who engineered my departure.

He didn’t know I was there, but I prayed and forgave him.  I even asked God to bless his life and family.

The leader from outside the church had been good to me for years, so in some ways it was easier to forgive him.

But if forgiveness means reconciliation … former enemies coming together again as friends … I don’t envision that ever happening.

I wish both men and their families well.  I don’t pray that God will harm them or strike them dead.

But to this day, I still don’t know why they hated me so much … and I guess I’ll never know.

But while we’re at it, there’s something else I’m wondering:

When the hatred of these two leaders manifested itself … among their wives, their friends, and members of my former church … why didn’t anyone say to them, “You’re angry and even bitter right now, and you need to make things right with Jim, or let things go.”

Maybe someone did say that.

I just wish they had listened.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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When I listen to the stories of pastors who have undergone a forced termination, I almost always ask them this question:

“What were the charges against you?”

If a pastor committed a major offense like heresy (and I haven’t met one yet who has), sexual immorality, or criminal behavior, then he knows precisely why the governing board removed him from office, and has only himself to blame.

But in more than 95% of the cases, by any objective measure, the pastor isn’t guilty of any major offense.

And much of the time, the pastor is in the dark as to why the board pressured him to resign.

If I was a church board member, and I was concerned about my pastor’s behavior or ministry, I would tell my fellow leaders, “We need to design and follow a fair and just process for dealing with our concerns about the pastor.  Since he isn’t guilty of any impeachable offense, we need to give him the benefit of the doubt and bring him into our deliberations.”

This means following three principles:

First, the pastor needs to know what people – including board members – are saying about him.

Second, the pastor needs to be able to respond to any charges made against him.

Finally, the pastor should be allowed to suggest ways to improve his behavior and ministry.

A minority of church boards follow the above three principles, and when I speak with such a board member, I always commend him for trying to be fair.

But the majority act differently.  Here’s a typical scenario:

Pastor Tim receives a phone call at his home late one night from his friend Nate, who tells him that the church board has met in secret twice over the past month.  Since Pastor Tim is also a board member, and he wasn’t invited to those meetings, he immediately assumes that the board is talking about him.

And Tim’s instincts are correct.

Since nobody on the board has spoken to Tim about any concerns about him, Tim asks himself a series of questions:

*Am I guilty of a major offense?  No.

*Am I aware of anyone who wants to get rid of me?  No.

*Am I aware of anyone who is angry with me?  No.

*Am I aware of any factions that are forming against me?  No.

*Have our attendance and giving slid recently?  Maybe a bit, but I can’t believe I’d be fired for a temporary slump.

Even though Tim is confident before God that he has done nothing to merit dismissal, he doesn’t sleep well that night.

Four days later, Don, the board chairman, asks to meet with Pastor Tim privately for breakfast the next day.  After another sleepless night, Don and Tim meet.

Don begins, “Pastor, a group has formed inside our church that has some serious concerns about the way you do ministry.  The board has listened to their concerns and we believe that for the good of the church, you should resign as pastor effective immediately.”

Pastor Tim cannot believe what he’s hearing.  He’s absolutely stunned by Don’s revelation.

After a long and awkward pause, Tim asks, “What are their concerns about me?”

Don responds, “We’re not at liberty to say, but they’re important enough that we think you should resign.”

Tim then asks, “Who are these people, Don?”

Don responds, “They’re spoken to us confidentially and we told them we wouldn’t reveal their names.”

Tim then says, “Don, that’s not fair!  I need to know who is making charges against me and what those charges are or you’re participating in a kangaroo court.”

But Don doesn’t budge, saying, “Look, Tim, this is in the best interests of everyone involved.”

Ready to blow his top, Tim tells Don, “I don’t agree with you, Don, unless you tell me who is saying what about me.”

But Don won’t reveal a thing to his pastor about the charges.

At this point, let me quote from church conflict expert Speed Leas in his manual Moving Your Church Through Conflict:

“A person being charged or condemned by others should have the right to know what those charges are and [have] an opportunity to respond to them. Denying this opportunity plays into the hands of real or potential manipulators, allows untrue or distorted information to be circulated and establishes a precedent that the way to deal with differences is to talk about rather than to talk with others. I have also found it true that individuals who talk about others out of their presence tend to exaggerate their charges, believing they will not be quoted.”

The process that Leas describes is eminently fair, and yet many church boards violate these principles when they conspire to get rid of their pastor.

Why do church boards do this? Why do they engage in practices toward a man of God that are utterly unjust?

Supposition #1: The board ‘s reasons for getting rid of the pastor are so petty that they’d be embarrassed to reveal them.

A common reason for getting rid of a pastor is that one or two important people just don’t like him.  But that’s not an objective charge … that’s a subjective preference … and few people are going to let their pastor know their feelings.

I have a friend who was dismissed and never given a reason.  All he could do was speculate.  He finally determined that he was fired because he didn’t visit a board member’s child who was in the hospital on an outpatient basis one day.

Supposition #2: Some key people in the church – board members, staff members, or prominent leaders – have threatened to leave the church unless the pastor is sacked. 

Some of these leaders are personal friends of board members or their spouses.  Some are longtime members or large donors.  The board reasons, “It’s easier to get another pastor than it is to replace those who stand against the pastor.”  So they jettison any kind of fair process and shut their mouths.

Supposition #3: Some board members – especially those who run small businesses – decide to treat the pastor the way they would treat one of their employees.

What do many small business owners tell their employees when they let them go?  “You just aren’t working out.”  They speak in vague terms because they feel it isn’t worth it to get into specifics.  That same mentality is directed toward pastors in too many situations … but a pastor isn’t a sales clerk or a custodian.  He’s someone called by God to lead God’s people and preach God’s Word.  Big difference.

Supposition #4: The board doesn’t want to hurt the pastor’s feelings by being specific.

But what could be worse than being summarily and instantly dismissed?  I for one would want to know exactly why I was being elbowed out the door … and I wouldn’t let the board off the hook by letting them resort to platitudes and vague generalities.  If I had a blind spot in my character or behavior, I’d want to know about it so I could work on it … or I could be dismissed from my next position.

Supposition #5: Someone in church leadership – probably on the board – has a vendetta against the pastor.

That person doesn’t want to implement Jesus’ words and confront the pastor as Matthew 18:15-17 specifies, so they bully or manipulate the board to carry out their wishes … and the board passively goes along with them.  This supposition says far more about the board than it does about the pastor.

I believe that many church boards dismiss their pastor prematurely.  They never tell him directly about their concerns so the pastor is never given a chance to make course corrections.  They also fail to bring up issues as they arise.  Speed Leas comments:

“Healthy and fair confrontation should tell the ‘offender’ what is wrong, and prepare the way for negotiation (or collaboration) toward agreement and a better relationship. Confrontation which demands that things be done one way, and does not allow for others to shape the way those things are done, is oppressive and demeaning. There are times when a board or supervisor (the one with authority to direct others) must confront without negotiation or collaboration; but even in these cases the ‘offender’ should have ample opportunity to perform differently before being dismissed from the organization. This is often difficult and done poorly in church situations. Instead of clearly describing to an employee or volunteer what is wanted and seeking to find a way to achieve a mutually satisfactory relationship, too often church leaders avoid confrontation until all hope of improving the working relationship is lost, or they confront and expect immediate change on the part of others without looking at what else in the organization might need to be changed.”

I’m sure there are other reasons why the governing board doesn’t tell the pastor why they’re pushing him out, but these are the ones that come most readily to mind.

If the board refuses to tell the pastor why they’re letting him go, what, if anything, can the pastor do about it?

If I were Pastor Tim, I’d tell Don … at breakfast or later on: “If you want to fire me, go ahead, but realize that you’re going to have to explain your decision to (a) the church staff; (b) other church leaders; (c) the congregation as a whole; (d) members who will contact individual board members; (e) the district minister (assuming the church is part of a denomination); (f) any interim pastor you might hire; and (g) the next pastor.

“And believe me, if you tell any or all of these parties why you’re letting me go, much of what you say will eventually get back to me, and you and the rest of the board will come off as cowards.

“So here is what I propose: I ask that you and one other board member meet with me as soon as possible so you can tell me the real reason why you are letting me go.  If you want to fire me, go ahead, but I will not give you a resignation letter unless you’re honest with me and until we agree on a severance package.”

If the board is intent on flexing its muscles, they might fire Pastor Time outright, but believe me … they are going to have a lot of trouble down the road.

This is just my opinion, but I believe that church boards like having a strong pastor when it comes to theology, and biblical morality, and critiquing the culture, but they want a weak pastor when they want to enforce their will upon him.  They want him to roll over and play dead, and if he doesn’t, they don’t want him around any more.

This is where church boards need to remember that nobody comes to church to watch the board make decisions.  They come primarily because they enjoy the pastor’s ministry.

All the more reason why every church board should treat the pastor fairly and justly.

 

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When a major conflict surfaces in a local church, the pastor usually becomes entangled in the mess … even if he didn’t start it … and even if the conflict doesn’t initially center upon him.

And in too many cases in our day, when the pastor becomes embroiled in a church conflict, those who don’t agree with the pastor’s position seek to force him from office.

Both in my book Church Coup, as well as in this blog, I write a lot about how pastors are negatively impacted by such conflicts.

But pastors aren’t the only casualties.

In fact, the primary casualty resulting from severe conflict may be our message: the Christian gospel.

Paul gives the most complete description of the gospel in 1 Corinthians 15:3-8 when he says that:

*Christ died … and His burial proves He died.

*Christ arose … and His appearances prove He rose.

History tells us that Christ died and rose again.

Faith tells us that Christ died for our sins.

Over in 2 Corinthians 5:18-19, Paul tells us that God “reconciled us to himself through Christ and gave us the ministry of reconciliation: that God was reconciling the world to himself in Christ, not counting men’s sins against them.  And he has committed to us the message of reconciliation.”

Paul tells us twice within the space of two verses that God has given us [believers] the ministry/message of reconciliation.

Paul’s emphasis in these verses is that God took the initiative to turn enemies [unbelievers] into friends [believers] through the sacrifice of Christ on the cross … and God wants us to share this message of reconciliation with the world.

God wants to reconcile us to Him, but He doesn’t want to stop there.

God also wants those who have been reconciled to Him to reconcile with one another.  Jesus told His followers in John 13:34-35:

“A new command I give you: Love one another.  As I have loved you, so you must love one another.  By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.”

In His High Priestly Prayer in John 17:21, Jesus made a similar statement to His Father:

“… that all of them may be one, Father, just as you are in me and I am in you.  May they also be in us so that the world may believe that you have sent me.”

Francis Schaeffer, the Christian theologian and philosopher, called Christian unity “the final apologetic.”  The world may be able to argue with our doctrine, but if we love each other authentically, they can’t argue with our community … which is a testimony to the truth of our message.

But the converse is also true: if we don’t love one another … if we backbite and fight and quarrel and separate … then people will not know that we are Christ’s disciples, and the world will not be inclined to believe our message: that the Father sent the Son.

Let me share four ways I have seen the gospel message negated by major church conflict:

First, the bad news of the conflict seems to overwhelm the good news of the gospel.

When a pastor is under attack … when a staff member is engaging in rebellion … when a group threatens to leave the church together … those actions result in negative emotions, and they tend to permeate the entire congregation.

You can feel it when you step onto the campus.

Many years ago, when my wife and I lived in Anaheim, we had the weekend off from our church, so we decided to visit the church behind our apartment complex.

When we entered the worship center, I could sense that something was wrong, even though no one said a word about it.  You could cut the tension with a knife.

The pastor spent the first twenty minutes of the service defensively explaining some changes he wanted to make to the church’s schedule.  Twenty minutes!

Soon afterwards, that pastor resigned … and I never visited that church again … in part because I didn’t want to experience those anxious feelings again.

My guess is that others felt the same way.

Second, people don’t feel like inviting unbelievers from their social network to church during a conflict.

Imagine that you’re ten years old and you’ve invited your best friend to your house one Sunday.

Since your friend lives a few houses down the street, you wait for him in your front yard … but as he approaches, you hear your mother and two siblings verbally fighting with each other in the house.

Do you want your friend to enter your home with all the tension going on?  Probably not … because it’s embarrassing.

In fact, as long as there is the possibility that there’s going to be fighting inside your house, you’re probably not going to invite any friends over at all.

When churches are filled with anxiety and tension, attendees don’t want to invite family, friends, or co-workers over because it’s poor marketing for the truth of the gospel.

Churches don’t grow during times of major conflict … and the gospel message, powerful as it is, falls on rocky ground.

Third, people aren’t attracted to our message during a major conflict.

There is a religious group in our neighborhood that goes door-to-door sharing their message.  My wife and I know some people in this group, and they have tried sharing their faith with us.

But their buildings are tiny … they don’t celebrate Christmas or birthdays … and I can’t point to one thing that I find attractive about their faith.

Why would I want to join their group?

Conversely, many Christian buildings are quite spacious … we do celebrate Christmas and most birthdays … and there are many things that are attractive about our faith.

And yet … who wants to believe our message if it seems to result in people despising each other?

If Christians are going to win people to Christ, we have to embody our message … not only that Christ died for everyone, but also that Jesus wants His people to love one another.

And when the opposite is occurring, people stay away from our churches.

In my last church, my wife always talked about “spreading good rumors.”  For years, the news that come out of our church was positive, inspiring, and uplifting.

But when a major conflict broke out, it was reported to us that someone in city government … speaking about our church … told a friend, “They’re having problems.  You don’t want to go there.”

The power of our message to attract unchurched people was negated by our inability to get along.

Finally, people leave our churches in droves during times of major conflict … and don’t feel like sharing the gospel.

I vividly remember a Sunday during the conflict in my last church when our leaders held two public meetings to discuss some issues that were affecting our spiritual family.

The meeting was hijacked by one person.  He shared a litany of charges against me … most of them untrue … and from that time on, the congregation morphed into something unrecognizable.

After the second meeting, a kind and gentle man came up to me and expressed his sorrow for what I had experienced.

I never saw him again … and he never came back to the church, even though he had attended for many years.

That meeting ended his association with our fellowship forever.

Some tried to stay at the church they called home, but over time, many good people gradually left … some finding a new church home … some not going to church anywhere.

God’s people expect that their church will be a place of love and peace and joy … and when it’s like that, they are open to sharing their faith.

But when their church becomes a place of hatred and war and sadness … people resist sharing their faith because their fellow Christians fail to embody the message of reconciliation.

Yes, I know that disagreements between Christians are normal and can even be healthy in the long run.

But when conflicts spill over boundaries … when people conspire to “take out” their pastor … when God’s people are obsessed with winning at all costs … the greatest casualty may not be the pastor’s job … or the well-being of the staff and official board … or a slide in church donations and attendance.

The greatest casualty of all may be the negative impact on the gospel: that God in Christ came to reconcile sinners to Himself … and that when God’s people love each other, we provide a powerful message to a fractured world.

The question that we should ask when we’re engaged in a major church conflict … but rarely do … is this one:

How will the gospel be impacted by this conflict?

 

 

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While watching television this morning, I saw a commercial I’ve seen scores of time before.

It was an ad for Wounded Warriors Project, including photos of American military veterans who have been severely injured during combat and are struggling to lead normal lives.

With the concerned face and deep voice of country singer Trace Adkins inviting viewers to support WWP financially, I’m sure these commercials are providing tens of thousands of dollars in revenue to help our vets in need … which is really wonderful.

But did you know there are thousands of former and current pastors who might also be termed Wounded Warriors?

Many of you do know … some of you may not.

I mention this because last week, I posted an article called “19 Things I’d Rather Do Than Attend a Church Board Meeting.”  Although several Christian leaders told me they resonated with what I’d written … including a seminary professor and well-known author … one person … whom I do not know … left this comment:

Articles on congregational and pastoral leadership written in bitterness following a painful dismissal are not particularly insightful or productive.  This one is no exception.”

(My policy is to let comments stand, even when they’re negative.  I don’t edit them, and only a handful of times have I chosen not to approve comments because I felt they made the writer look bad.)

Let me make several observations about this comment – which is atypical of the ones I normally receive – which will give me the opportunity to make some clarifications about my writing ministry:

*I tried to write an article that contrasted my previous calling as a pastor with my current job, which is serving with my wife caring for children in our home … and I made the point that at this point in my life, I prefer what I’m doing right now.

*As those who know me or my previous church situation knows, I wasn’t dismissed as pastor.  I chose to resign because my wife was attacked as a way of forcing me to quit … an entirely different dynamic than usually occurs.  That may be a “forced resignation,” but it wasn’t a “painful dismissal.”

*Even though I wrote a book about that 50-day conflict … and even though I refer to it on occasion in my blog … I usually write as if people are coming to my blog for the first time.  This means that I sometimes will repeat myself … and risk boring my faithful readers … but I want my readers – especially pastors and their wives who have gone through a forced termination – to know that I understand what they are going through and that I feel their pain.

*I’m not bitter about what happened.  I accepted my destiny long ago.  I have no desire to hurt any of my detractors for what they did … I forgave them years before … nor to harm my former church in any way.  But I am wounded, and always will be.  How could I not be?  My career in church ministry ended after 36 years!  But I’m just one of thousands of God’s servants who have suffered similar mistreatment – like David, Isaiah, Jeremiah, Daniel, Paul, and Jesus – and were changed by the experience.

*The list of “19 Things” was tongue-in-cheek and presented in an ironic manner.  My sermon prep teacher warned our class years ago not to use irony when we preach because many people don’t get it.  It’s still true … but I still enjoy using it … even though I risk being misunderstood.  Maybe I could have written that article better.

*My main takeaway from this comment was, “I don’t want to hear anything about the dismissal of a pastor from a congregation or the way he feels afterward.  If I hear anything … regardless of the person’s experiences or motives … I will label it sour grapes.”

It’s this last observation that I’d like to address for a few moments.

When I started my blog in December 2010, and when my book Church Coup was published in March 2013, I made a conscious decision: to be willing to share in detail an attempt by a few people from my former congregation to force me out of my pastoral position.  I also chose to share how I felt about it at the time … and to try and make a dent in the epidemic of forced terminations in Christian churches today.  (I’d like to think that I’ve succeeded somewhat based on the thousands of views I’ve received for my article “If You Must Terminate a Pastor” as well as the number of pastors, board members, staff members, and laymen I’ve counseled over the past few years.)

I didn’t share everything that happened … it would have made the book much longer … and I intentionally left out parts that might make some individuals look bad.  In fact, I spent six hours with an attorney reviewing the book’s contents so that I was telling my story accurately rather than wreaking revenge.

I knew that the book would never be a Christian bestseller, although I’ve sold more copies than I thought I would.

I assumed that some Christian leaders would severely criticize me for revealing information that normally stays hidden inside a congregation, although I masked the church’s name … the city where it’s located … and the real names of those who wished me harm.  However, while I’m ignorant of what has been said about my book in private, few leaders have criticized me to my face, and many have thanked me for writing and getting the issue out into the open.

I shared how I felt about the conflict because I’m not a programmed robot; I’m a real person with real feelings.  A Christian counselor told me, “If you want to help others, don’t ever forget how you felt when you were going through your conflict.”  Some Christians are uncomfortable reading about how a pastor feels after a forced exit … and someday I’ll speculate on why that is … but I will continue to inject emotion into my writing because it takes too much effort to suppress it.

Some Christian leaders view forced terminations both cynically and politically.  Their attitude is, “You were pressured to resign.  You lost, your opponents won.  That’s just the way it goes.  Shut up about it now.”  I am troubled by that attitude because it guarantees that forced terminations – along with all the damage they cause – will continue unabated in Christian churches … although I certainly don’t want to bleed all over the place whenever I write!

The Christian community as a whole does not want to hear about pastoral termination or to hear from its victims.  We’d rather banish such pastors … call them “losers” … and tape their mouths shut.

Many years ago, a prominent Christian psychiatrist – who had counseled hundreds of pastors who had experienced a forced exit, along with their wives – wanted to write a book about the subject.  He pitched it to a major Christian publisher … and they turned him down.  The assumption was, “Who wants to read about pastors who have been terminated?”

The Christian community wants to keep this issue buried because (a) it’s poor marketing for the Christian faith; (b) it exposes glaring weaknesses in congregational life; (c) it reveals hatred and bitterness among church leaders; and (d) it negates the power of the gospel to reconcile relationships.

But don’t Christians believe in redemption … even for ex-pastors?

Can’t we learn something significant from the stories of those who have been forced out unjustly?

Why would we want to silence such pastors?

What are we as Christians afraid of?

Wouldn’t the wider Christian community benefit from an honest discussion of this issue?

Because when a forced termination is handled poorly … and they usually are … forces are unleashed in a church that people can’t control … and those forces damage lots of people … as well as their church’s future.

This is the 491st blog post I’ve written.  On occasion, I’ve written about baseball … music … travel … even cemeteries! … and I’ll do more of that in the future.

But I know why people come to my blog in the first place: because I deal with the topic of pastoral termination … in all its many ramifications … and in an authentic and thorough fashion.

When I was in the Doctor of Ministry program at Fuller Seminary, my focus was on church conflict.  My editor couldn’t believe the examples I used in my dissertation because she wasn’t aware of what goes on in Christian churches behind closed doors.

But God has called me to this ministry, and I will continue to speak up … and speak out … as long as He gives me breath.

Thank you for reading!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Have you ever reevaluated a major decision that you made in life?

My wife and I drove 60 miles from the Inland Empire to Orange County to watch our grandsons a few days ago, and along the way, I told her, “After we left our last church ministry, maybe we should have moved to southern Orange County instead of Phoenix.”

I was second-guessing a decision that we had made six years before.

At the time, moving to Phoenix made sense.  We had lived there in the past … I had family members there … friends invited us to stay in their home … and the desert is a great place to heal.

On the other hand, moving back to Orange County after a 29-year absence also could have been a wise move.  Our son and his family live there … as do Kim’s twin brother and his family … as do many friends … and we could have rented a house, adjusted to the lifestyle, and mapped out our future much quicker.

Most of us probably second-guess major decisions that we’ve made on occasion.  We did what we thought was right at the time … followed the light we had … and hindsight is 20/20, right?

But it’s another thing entirely when family and friends second-guess your decisions.

Here are four decisions of mine that others have questioned over the years:

First, I was second-guessed on where I went to seminary.

Nearly 30 years ago, a district leader of my former denomination sat in my office before a worship service.  He asked me how the ministry was going.

I was in the midst of a horrific conflict which resulted in nearly 25% of our people leaving the church … so I told him that the ministry wasn’t going so well.

He looked at me and said matter-of-factly, “You went to the wrong seminary.  That’s your problem.”

I went to Talbot Seminary … now Talbot School of Theology … for many reasons.  My father went there … it was close to my home … I had friends there … and I admired many of the professors.

It took me five years to earn my Master of Divinity degree at Talbot.  I received a solid theological education at the school.

Why did this Christian leader think that I went to the wrong school?

When I first came into the denomination, I was told that Talbot grads were not well-received … that they tended to take their churches out of the denomination.

I also learned that if you went to Bethel College and Seminary, you became part of the denomination’s “good old boy network” … but if you didn’t go to Bethel, you had to prove you belonged in other ways … like growing your church very large.

But when I had to make a decision as to where I was going to go to seminary in the spring of 1975, I knew nothing about either the denomination or Bethel … yet years later, denominational leaders held me at arm’s length for not attending their school.  (How irrational.)

I visited the Bethel campus twice.  Over the years, I heard many of their professors speak.

I’ll take Talbot every time.

Under God, I know I made the right decision … even if others disagreed.

Second, I was second-guessed for becoming the pastor of my last church.

In January 1998, I resigned from my position as senior pastor of a church in Silicon Valley.  I was absolutely exhausted and needed a place to recover.

I ended up serving as the teaching pastor of a church in Arizona alongside a long-time ministry friend and colleague.

While there, I was contacted by another pastor friend, who asked me if I would consider becoming his associate pastor.

A search team at his church was reviewing resumes – they eventually combed through 85 of them – and my friend wanted me to become his associate.  He would retire … and I would become the senior pastor.

As I described in my book Church Coup, that’s exactly what transpired.  I came to the church as associate pastor in June 1999 … was voted senior pastor-elect in April 2000 … and became the church’s second senior pastor in December 2000 after my friend/predecessor retired and moved to another state.

In my mind, the handoff went flawlessly.  I felt loved and well-received, and the church grew steadily and joyfully.

Even though our campus was located on just a single acre of land in one of America’s most resistant communities, our church nearly doubled in size … the offerings nearly doubled … we built a new worship center … and for years, we were the largest Protestant church in our city … by far.

So by any objective measurement, the church was a success.

However, I knew that some people in the church – including a few key leaders – would always be more loyal to my predecessor than to me … and that whenever they had a problem with me, they would complain to him … and he would listen … maybe even gleefully.

Two years before my eventual departure, my predecessor came to our community, and I invited him out to lunch.

While we were eating, he told me about a conversation he had with our current district minister.  Referring to me, the district leader told my predecessor, “You picked the wrong man.”

Outwardly, I remained calm.  Inwardly, I was fuming.

Here it was, seven years after my predecessor had left the church in my hands, and he was telling me that by choosing me, he had made a mistake!

I know why he told me that.  It had nothing to do with how the church was doing.

It had everything to do with who received the credit for all the good things that were happening.

He really wasn’t second-guessing me.  He was second-guessing himself … but he tried to dump that conversation on me, and I didn’t bite.

Under God, I know I made the right decision … even if the person who chose me later disagreed.

Third, I was second-guessed for allowing my wife to become the outreach director in our church.

A few months after I became senior pastor of that church, the church board and I decided that we needed a full-time director of outreach to help our church reach out to our community.

We posted the job opening in many places, but received only 20 resumes.

When my wife heard about the position, she wanted to apply for it.

Some pastors might have said, “No, you’re my wife, and since you’re related to me, you are not allowed to apply for this job.”

I guess I don’t think in those categories.  I hated to rule anyone out in advance for any reason.  I just wanted the best person possible.

Besides, the precedent had already been established because my predecessor’s wife had served as office manager/small group leader for years.

Because my wife applied for the position, I told the search team that I would stay out of the first round of selections altogether.

My wife was the only person to make it to the second round.

Should I have ended the process right there?

The search team was enthusiastic about Kim’s passion for the position.  And when the church board finally hired her, the decision was met with great acclaim … for the most part.

One woman came up to my wife and told her, “This is a mistake.”  But several years later, that same person came to her and said, “I was wrong.”

Kim was an ideal staff member.  She outworked everybody else on staff.  She brought creativity, excellence, and enthusiasm to everything she touched.

Several years before, when she worked for the largest day care company in Silicon Valley, she became one of the organization’s five top executives.  She was sent to failing schools to turn them around … which she always did.

Kim has boundless energy.  She can start ministries … recruit a host of volunteers … run large events … and do it all with style and a smile.

Over time, I knew some people resented her … not necessarily because she was my wife, but because she became too influential.  She almost did too much good.

After 8 1/2 years of ministry, some leaders … wanting to get rid of me as pastor … sensed they didn’t have anything solid they could use against me … so they went after my wife instead.

Their plan succeeded.

Even though we were cleared of any wrongdoing by an outside consultant as well as a 9-member investigative team from inside the church, her ministry … and mine … were over.

Because people attacked my wife as a way of attacking me, I’ve heard some people say, “Jim never should have allowed Kim to be hired in the first place.”

Under God, I know I made the right decision … because we grew larger and better with her than we ever would have without her.

Finally, I was second-guessed for starting my current ministry.

When I left my last church after a 36-year ministry career, virtually no one thought I should go back into church ministry again.

And I didn’t want to become a punching bag … er, pastor either.

One individual … who had always been supportive of my ministry and had given me good counsel over the years … told me before I left that I should teach in a seminary.

I tried to tell this person that I needed a PhD to do that, and that my Doctor of Ministry degree would not get me hired anywhere.

Six months later, she and I spoke again.  I told her about my plans for Restoring Kingdom Builders, and she told me that I should become a professor instead.

I tried to tell her that I didn’t have the drive or the funds to enter a PhD program, and that even if I completed one, I had two chances of being hired: slim and none.  (I’m both the wrong age and the wrong ethnicity.)  And someone close to me told me that there are 400 resumes submitted at some Christian schools for every open position.

But I’ve been waiting to be involved in a pastor-church conflict ministry for 13 years … and now God had given me the opportunity.

It’s a part-time position.  I have a small salary.  I’m not very prominent, nor do I desire to be.

But I believe that I am doing what God called me to do, and for that reason, I am incredibly content.

Under God, I know I made the right decision … because I’m helping far more people now than I ever did as a pastor.

Let me conclude this little article with three quick thoughts about Christian second-guessers:

*There’s always someone around who will second-guess any major decision that you make.

Didn’t Paul’s followers second-guess his decision to go to Jerusalem?  And didn’t Peter second-guess Jesus’ announcement that He would be crucified?

I once knew a couple that abruptly left Silicon Valley and moved a few hours away.  The decision was more emotional than rational, and as I recall, they hadn’t even consulted with God about it.

At the time, I told my wife that I thought they made a bad decision … and maybe they did.

But I didn’t tell them how I felt.  It wasn’t my decision to make.  It was theirs.

I might ask people a few questions to see if they’ve thought through their decision, but I can’t play Holy Spirit in people’s lives.

We must give them the freedom to succeed … or fail … on their own.

*The time to second-guess someone’s decision is before they make it, not years later.

It’s fruitless … heartless … and even hurtful to tell someone years after they made a major decision:

“You shouldn’t have married that person.”

“I never thought you should attend that college.”

“Why didn’t you become a computer programmer instead of a pastor?”

What’s the point of rubbing it in?

Such remarks only serve to wound people … and to try and demonstrate your superiority.

Whatever it’s called, that’s not love.

*We are ultimately responsible to God for our decisions, not second-guessers.

Yes, we should listen to people – especially wise, mature, godly people – who question some of our decisions.

But sometimes Christian leaders in the same organization don’t always agree.

I remember a major decision that I made 25 years ago.  It impacted my entire congregation.

One district executive told me that I had made a mistake.

Another district executive told me that I should have made that decision years before.

Who should I have believed?

I did what I believed God wanted me to do … and I’ve never looked back.

When you make a major decision … if God is in the center of it … resolve to learn from your mistakes and look forward.

As the great baseball pitcher Satchell Paige used to say, “Don’t look back … something might be gaining on you.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Whenever I hear the story of a pastor under attack – whether the account comes from the pastor, one of his family members, or a board member – I wish I could utter some magic words and resolve the entire conflict peacefully.

In the minds of many Christians, those magic words already exist in the pages of the Old Testament.  Those words are:

“Touch not the Lord’s anointed!”

I first encountered this phrase in my early twenties when I was serving as a staff member under the supervision of a pastor.  Within a short time after I came to the church, the pastor and church council butted heads.

The council asked the pastor to carry out certain duties.  He agreed that he would do them, but then resisted.  The council became frustrated, and then the pastor promised that if they asked him to resign, he would do so.

They finally did ask him to resign, and he countered with, “Touch not the Lord’s anointed, and do thy prophets no harm.”

I guess in the pastor’s mind, those words – quoted as a proof text – were supposed to end all discussion about his future as pastor.

He had played his trump card.

I don’t remember how many council members backed off after hearing those words, but I know of two individuals who decided to go to Scripture and view those words in context.

I was one of them.

The first time we encounter the phrase, “Touch not the Lord’s anointed” in Scripture is in 1 Samuel 24 when David has the opportunity to kill Saul.  Let me share with you what I wrote about this passage in my book Church Coup:

“I have heard pastors under fire quote 1 Samuel 24:6 as a way of keeping their critics at bay.  While King Saul sleeps in the front of a cave, David – who is hiding in back with his men – creeps up and cuts off a corner of Saul’s robe, even though David’s men want him to murder Saul instead.  But David tells them, ‘The Lord forbid that I should do such a thing to my master, the Lord’s anointed, or lift my hand against him; for he is the anointed of the Lord.’  David speaks directly to Saul in verse 10 and utters a similar sentiment.  I’ve also heard pastors quote 1 Chronicles 16:22 to silence critics: ‘Do not touch my anointed ones; do my prophets no harm.’

“These passages teach that God appoints and anoints leaders, whether kings or prophets.  (Paul states in Acts 20:28 that the Holy Spirit appoints pastors/elders as well.)  David knew he was the successor to Israel’s throne but would only secure it in God’s time and way.  But when David agreed not to ‘lift my hand’ against the Lord’s anointed, he was refusing to remove him from office by killing him.  (Israel didn’t vote on anything.)  Because the Lord selected leaders in the Old Testament, they could only be displaced by divine decree.  But since members elect their pastors in congregationally-run churches, they have the right to un-elect them as well.”

Let me delve a little deeper into this phrase by making four observations about it:

First, while we can draw some parallels between Israel’s leaders in the Old Testament and spiritual leaders today, we can’t press every detail.

David had the chance to kill Saul, but didn’t take it.  Good for him.  He didn’t want to become king by using violence … nor to become king prematurely.

But who is trying to kill pastors today?  Almost nobody.  When churchgoers attack their pastor, they attempt to remove him from office and destroy his reputation.  But that’s a far cry from the temptation confronting David: to become king by murdering Saul while he was sleeping.

However, I will say this: a cursory study of the Old Testament reveals that most of the time, God was the One who authorized the removal of a king, prophet, or priest from office.  He may have done this through human means: Saul was killed/committed suicide in battle; various kings were assassinated; a prophet like Isaiah was sawn in two.

But most of the time, God removed the leaders of His people through death by natural causes (like David himself) … and He let “nature” take its course.

Second, some Christians quote this phrase because Scripture doesn’t give us a lot of guidance concerning how to remove spiritual leaders.

For example, Paul never says in any of his 13 epistles: “Now here is the way to remove an elder/pastor from office …”  He doesn’t seem to even have envisioned it, which is why some churches believe that elders should be leaders for life.  It would have been helpful if Paul had included several extended sections on how a congregation could remove a spiritual leader in his writings, but he never did.

In 1 Timothy 5:19-21, Paul says that those elders/pastors who sin [continually] “are to be rebuked publicly,” but he doesn’t state explicitly that they should be removed from office.

This is why many churches … but not enough … create a section in their governing documents on how to remove the lead pastor from office.  Those documents may or may not cite Scripture with their directions, but because Scripture isn’t clear on how to pull this off, many churches have chosen to follow an extra-biblical/political process instead.

I believe that whenever we discern the theology of Scripture on any given topic, we need to take the whole of Scripture into account … so I don’t think this single phrase represents the entirety of the Bible’s thinking on the issue.

Third, the good thing about David’s words in 1 Samuel 24 is that he takes the call of God on Saul’s life seriously.

As talented as David ended up becoming, he didn’t call himself to become Israel’s second king.  God did that through a “not it” process involving Samuel the prophet selecting David instead of his brothers.

I don’t think most churches – or church boards – think very much about the fact that pastors haven’t chosen to go into church ministry by themselves.

No, pastors go through training and ordination because they believe that God has called them into the pastorate.

I served as the solo/senior pastor of four churches.  Nobody in those churches ever witnessed how hard I worked to obtain my Master of Divinity degree from Talbot.  Nobody saw me research and write my 100-page thesis for Dr. Robert Saucy.  No board members in those churches were present at my ordination council or commissioning service.

In other words, they did not witness all the events that transpired when I was called, trained, and commissioned for service.

And most board members, I would guess, have never even attended an ordination council or commissioning … so they don’t view the pastor as a called individual, but as a hired one.

But I do know this: I became a pastor not because my grandfather and father were pastors … not because I couldn’t do anything else with my life … not because I thought I would become rich and famous … but because God handpicked me to become a pastor when I was 19 years of age.

My general call to the pastorate was ratified when I was ordained.  My call to specific churches was ratified when a congregation voted on me to become their pastor.

God called me to be a pastor, and no board or person can take that call away from me.  As my friend Charles Chandler is fond of saying of churches, “They can take your position, but they can’t take your calling.”

But I don’t see church boards or church antagonists even referencing God’s call upon their pastor when they attack him … either his general call to ministry or his specific call to their congregation.

I believe this is a grave mistake.

The call of God upon a pastor’s life does not mean that he cannot be criticized or even removed from office.

But it does mean that such actions need to be engaged in carefully and soberly.  David carefully weighed the idea of removing Saul through murder and decided against it because God had called Saul to be king at that time … not David.

Many church boards need to decide against removing their pastor as well … and learn how to work things out in a biblical manner instead.

Finally, the call of God upon a pastor’s life does not protect him from the consequences of his own actions.

If a pastor drifts into heresy, sexual immorality, or criminal behavior, a church has the right … and the duty … to remove their pastor from office.

*If a pastor teaches that you can earn your salvation through good works … or that Christ’s death on the cross isn’t enough to save us … or that Jesus rose from the dead spiritually but not physically … that pastor is guilty of heresy and should be removed from office.

*If a pastor has been sleeping with a woman other than his wife … or he’s been sleeping with another man … or he’s been caught with a prostitute … quoting “Touch not the Lord’s anointed” just doesn’t wash.  The pastor has disqualified himself from office.

*If a pastor robs the local Best Buy … or smacks his kids around … or, God forbid, murders someone … he can’t yell, “Touch not the Lord’s anointed” as if he’s immune from correction and removal.

But sadly, this is how this phrase is sometimes used.  The pastor is saying, “I’m special … I’m above God’s law and man’s law … you can’t touch me … and if God wants to remove me from office, He will do so directly.”

But most of the time, God removes a sinning pastor through His people.

Now should proceedings begin to remove the pastor from office, I believe the pastor should be treated with dignity, respect, and love … even if he has disappointed many people.

I think of Paul’s words in 1 Thessalonians 5:12-13: “Now we ask you, brothers, to respect those who word hard among you, who are over you in the Lord and who admonish you.  Hold them in the highest regard in love because of their work.  Live in peace with each other.”

If you’re a pastor, and you’re under fire in your church, please don’t use the phrase, “Touch not the Lord’s anointed” as a way of getting your critics – or the church board – to back off.

God doesn’t include that phrase in Scripture to provide you with ecclesiastical immunity.

And if you’re a board member, and your pastor has clearly been engaging in conduct that requires correction or removal from office, don’t even hesitate to move forward, even if he should tell people repeatedly, “Touch not the Lord’s anointed.”

There are many phrases I’d prefer that Christians use instead whenever a pastor is under attack … and Colossians 3:13 just may be my favorite:

“Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another.  Forgive as the Lord forgave you.”

 

 

 

 

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“Tell me your story.”

Whenever a pastor under attack contacts me – whether he wants a listening ear, an analysis of his current situation, or some counsel – I encourage him to let me know what he’s going through.

Even though I’ve heard scores of such stories – and have my own to tell – I always learn something that allows me to help someone else down the road.

Years ago, Chris Creech – author of the recent book Toxic Church – heard similar stories from pastors, but he didn’t necessarily want to hear them.

Creech was a new missionary, trying to meet with pastors in hopes that the pastor would persuade church leaders to financially support his plan to teach at a seminary in Singapore.  He had also been a pastor and a church planter for nearly 30 years.

Creech opens his book and all the information below is taken from its first chapter – by recounting a time when he met with a pastor named Bill and his wife Pat to ask for financial support … but the pastor needed emotional support from Creech instead.  Why?

Two elders had just met with that pastor and accused him of saying something that he had never said.  Creech recounts:

“They then asked Bill to offer his resignation.  They promised that if he refused to resign, they would make certain that he was fired.  They refused to listen to Bill’s explanations.  They had determined that Pastor Bill had to go!”

Creech continues:

“Bill was absolutely shocked.  The church was growing.  They had just completed a major building project.  The treasury was doing quite well.  They were even considering a new missionary (me).  How could they ask for his resignation on the basis of charges from nameless individuals and an attack from a person whose words were completely fraudulent?”

Creech then shares the dilemma that the pastor and his wife had:

“Should they fight the charges?  Would anyone believe them?  Would anyone care?  What would happen to Bill’s career if he left suddenly without a plausible explanation?  What church would consider him if he left without a place to go?  What would happen if they stayed to fight the charges and then were forced to leave?  Was there anyone who could help them with the struggle that was before them?”

After leaving the pastor and driving away, Creech was disturbed but wasn’t sure why.  Then it came to him:

“I was troubled because Pastor Bill’s experiences mirrored my own when I was serving a troubled church.  I too had been wounded, and I still felt the pain of being attacked.  When I listened to the lament of my new friends, Bill and Pat, I was reliving the horror that had been a part of my life.”

As Creech continued to meet with pastors and seek financial support, his experience with Bill and Pat was repeated “over a dozen times.”

*One pastor said a member of his church had died because of the attacks against him.

*Another pastor’s child committed suicide after a church member waged “a relentless war against him and his family.”

*Pastors endured serious physical ailments related to their attacks.

*Pastors had been falsely accused of “adultery, doctrinal impurity, or some other ethical or moral misconduct.”

*Staff members often colluded with the pastor’s primary accuser.

One Sunday morning, Creech was preaching, and during the early part of the service “the sanctuary had emptied of many members of the congregation, including the pastor … after the worship, the pastor told me that he had been meeting with the church’s board during the worship service.  He had been fired …”

Can you believe that?  He was fired during the worship service!

And then Creech writes:

“We have now been on the mission field for many years.  All of the struggling pastors I met during our support raising days have been forced to leave their churches with the exception of two.  These two are surviving, but barely…. Three of our supporting churches have closed their doors since we began our ministry in Southeast Asia.  Struggles between pastors and churches were a significant part of the closing of two of these churches.”

Creech’s book – and I’m not done reading it yet, but I highly recommend it so far – dramatizes what is clearly becoming a serious problem in many of our churches.

Let me make four observations based on what I’ve shared from Creech’s book:

First, the problem of pastoral termination is too widespread to be completely the fault of pastors.

Yes, a few pastors are arrogant and narcissistic … a few others are controlling and manipulative … and a few more are just plain incompetent.

But there can’t be that many bad pastors in Christian churches.

Pastors are chosen by God … trained by seminaries … ordained by churches … and called to congregations.  They are highly specialized professionals.

The root cause lies elsewhere.

Second, various church leaders – especially members of the official board – are acting independently of boards in other congregations.

I’m not aware of any blogs, newsletters, or books that encourage church boards on how to push out their pastors.  In other words, this phenomenon is not organized … on earth, anyway.

I see two issues at work when pastors are terminated:

*The church board is unable to think biblically, rationally, and creatively when someone – often another board member, staff member, or key church leader – makes a serious accusation against the pastor.

Board members don’t ask themselves, “What process does the Bible prescribe in this situation?”  They don’t ask, “Why don’t we individually think and pray about this accusation before we take action?”  They don’t ask, “If this accusation turns out to be true, how can we deal with the pastor without pressing for his resignation first?”

Instead, someone blurts out, “I think the pastor needs to go” … another board member chimes in, “I agree!” … and the flame becomes a firestorm.

*The enemy slips into the inner circle of the church undetected.

And he uses the same entry point nearly every time: a church leader who is angry with the pastor over a personal and perceived injustice.

Paul says in Ephesians 4:26-27 that when we let the sun go down on our anger – when we let it fester and grow into bitterness – we give the devil a foothold into our lives and churches.

Just once, when a board member complains about his pastor, I’d love to hear another board member tell him, “It sounds like you have something personal against the pastor.  Why don’t you meet with him and work it out?”

Just once.

Third, church leaders move to power too quickly when love would be far more effective.

When Chris Creech told the story of Pastor Bill’s meeting with the two elders, the elders never tried to use love as a methodology.

Love would have said to Pastor Bill, “We’ve just heard someone make a serious accusation against you.  We’d like to set up a meeting between the two of you.  Our prayer is that this issue can be resolved quickly and peacefully and that you can continue to enjoy a productive ministry here.”

Instead, power said, “We don’t care if this accusation against you is true or not.  In fact, it’s such a serious charge that as far as we’re concerned, you’re through around here!  Pack your bags, pastor, or we’ll pack them for you!”

When the pastor finally resigns, the average churchgoer will hear, “The pastor said something so offensive to someone that he was forced to quit.”

But the reality is that those two elders – possibly without the knowledge of the others – were the real culprits in the pastor’s departure.

In my own case six years ago, the board never tried love.  They went straight to power.  Mass casualties resulted.

Finally, we need strong, determined, principled Christians to stand up to those who bully pastors – even if the bullies are on the church board.

The problem, of course, is that the bullies do most of their plotting behind closed doors.

But inevitably, the plot leaks into the congregation, and some people hear about it.

If I was one of those individuals, I would:

*find out who was on the church board

*ask around to find out which board member was most approachable

*ask to speak with him/her as soon as possible

*ask if the pastor is under fire

*and then ask, “What process are you using to insure that the pastor is treated biblically and justly?”

When there is no predetermined process, the pastor is being evaluated by church politics instead.

Predetermined processes heal pastors and congregations.

Church politics destroy everybody and everything.

I encourage you to obtain and read the book Toxic Church by Chris Creech.  The Kindle edition on Amazon is still selling for only $4.97.

Read Toxic Church … and both you and your congregation can become much healthier.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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I live about thirty miles from San Bernardino, California – the city where a husband and wife team committed horrendous atrocities last week.

Because our entire country is understandably anxious right now, the amount of conflict – reflected in public rhetoric – has also risen among us.

Whenever anxiety rises – whether it’s in a country, a workplace, a family, or a church – conflict inevitably escalates as a result.

There are times in every group when anxiety – and thus conflict – are predictable.

And when we know that anxiety is likely, we can create strategies to lessen the anxiety level – which will lessen any possible conflict as well.

Let me share with you four times that conflict is likely in a church – and I could have included many additional examples:

First, conflict is likely whenever guests are coming over.

My wife and I hosted a Thanksgiving meal at our house two weeks ago.  We had fifteen people show up, including our son and his family, our daughter, and my wife’s twin brother and his family.

Because my wife and I wanted everything to go perfectly, we engaged in meticulous preparation.  We created a menu, bought the food, determined seating, cleaned the house thoroughly, and let everyone know that we were having brunch (without turkey) at 10:30 that morning.

Not everything went optimally, though.  Because we have a preschool in our house – and because we don’t own a dining room table – our guests had to sit in small chairs at low tables.  And because many family members wanted to help cook the food, it was hard at times to move around the kitchen.

But everyone was in such a good mood that we easily overcame those temporary obstacles.

Churches have times during the year when they anticipate company as well, such as Easter Sunday, Mother’s Day, and Christmas Eve.

And because pastors and church leaders are aware that guests will be visiting on those days, they want to create the finest possible impression … but sometimes, people differ on what that looks like.

Many years ago, I pastored a church that was having a Christmas Eve service that started early in the evening.

Some key participants in that service weren’t able to leave work on time, so when they arrived for rehearsal, they were late … but they still wanted to go over their parts until they were satisfied.

When it was time to start the service, our guests were gathered outside the double doors to the auditorium because those involved in the service were still practicing inside.

Watching those guests fidget, I went to our programming director and said, “I don’t care if you’re ready or not, we’re opening these doors right now.”  Although he pushed back, I felt it was important to start at the time we had advertised.

Thank God, we worked things out later on, but I’ve learned that whenever a church is having a big service … or a large event … designed to make a positive impression on newcomers … conflict inevitably results.

Second, conflict is likely when there are changes in a pastor’s family.

I attended some seminars many years ago where the presenters made the following statement:

“For many people in a church, the pastor assumes the role of a father, and his wife assumes the role of a mother.”

And, we might add, some in the congregation see themselves as their children.

As long as the pastor and his wife seem healthy and happy, the congregation feels secure.

But if the pastor and his wife experience disconcerting change, it can affect the entire church family.

Many years ago, I had a friend who was the associate pastor at his church.  While he was there, the senior pastor had a heart attack and was hospitalized.

The church didn’t want to terminate their pastor in his hour of need, but the longer he was out of commission, the more anxious the congregation became.  As I recall, it was his third heart attack, and his recovery period stretched for months.

The church board wanted the associate pastor to provide leadership for the congregation, but he felt that if he did, he would be betraying his supervisor.

Over time, the congregation shrank to such an extent that they had to borrow money from the denomination just to pay their bills … and the entire incident created great anxiety and conflict.

A pastor is a part of three families: his family of origin … his current family … and his church family.

And any change in one family will provoke change in the other families.

So if the pastor gets sick … or his sister dies … or his son gets in trouble at school … or his wife has an operation … the changes in the pastor’s family will cause him weakness, or sorrow, or disappointment, or fear … and those changes in his life are bound to spill over into the congregation.

And when the pastor isn’t acting “normally,” that anxiety inevitably leads to conflict.

In fact, when changes hit the pastor and his family, it’s common for a staff member or a board member to sense that the pastor is now in a weakened position, and to save the church, they assign themselves the role of LEADER and start making decisions that the pastor would usually make … leading to even more conflict.

Third, conflict is likely when the pastor is away.

Whether the pastor goes on vacation … or takes a sabbatical … or is hospitalized … or engages in continuing education … when he’s not around for several weeks, it creates anxiety around the church, and conflict is usually the result.

I once worked for a pastor who took a trip around the world.  His trip took an entire month.  Less than a year later, he was unemployed.

While he was gone, the people who didn’t like him had the opportunity to meet, gripe, and organize without his knowledge.

Nine years ago, I took a much-needed sabbatical.  I was entitled to at least three months off, but because the church had never had a pastor take a sabbatical before, I limited my time away to six weeks.

I went to Europe with my daughter … my wife flew out and joined us … my daughter flew home … and my wife and I went to Moldova for a week of ministry there.

I remember going out to breakfast with the board chairman and another member, reviewing every single issue in writing that I could anticipate … but I couldn’t anticipate everything.

I had lined up all the speakers before I left, including an author and an expert on Islam, but he cancelled his talk while I was away, and church leaders had to create a Plan B.

Unfortunately, Plan B created conflict that ended up lasting for many months.

I didn’t have a cell phone that worked in Europe back then, and if I had one, church leaders could have contacted me and the whole conflict could have been averted.

But the longer a pastor is away, the greater the chance that disgruntled people will start opposing him behind his back.

My wife and I twice visited a church recently where the pastor was teaching Christian leaders in Europe.  At each service, a video clip was played of the pastor greeting the congregation and briefly describing his ministry overseas.

I thought to myself, “That’s really smart.  It seems like the pastor is looking at us … even though he can’t see us … and we can see him as well.  It’s a reminder that he’s the pastor and that he’ll soon return.”

If a pastor knows he can trust the church staff and church board, then he can go away for a few weeks without fear.  But if has any doubts at all … it’s better to take shorter trips.

Finally, conflict is likely when just one staff member rebels.

It’s my belief that when a pastor hires a staff member, that person needs to be 100% loyal to him, both in public and in private.

And if that staff member can no longer demonstrate loyalty, he or she should resign and leave the church.

A disgruntled staff member should not stay at the church … should not spread their discontent to other staff … should not meet with a board member and trash the pastor … and above all, should not lead a rebellion against the pastor.

But I’ve been hearing more and more stories of staff rebellion, and it troubles me greatly.

In some cases, a staff member will claim that the pastor hurt his/her feelings, so they are justified in resisting the pastor’s leadership.

In other cases, a staff member starts to believe that he/she is more competent than the pastor … a sure sign that staff member should find another position somewhere else.

But in still more cases, a staff member believes that he or she should become the pastor, so they use any and every means necessary to push out the pastor.

For the life of me, I can’t understand this thinking.

In such cases, I always go back to the story of Moses and Korah in Numbers 16.

Moses was a deeply flawed leader.  He was reluctant to serve … very old … prone to frustration … and wasn’t leading Israel anywhere productive.

Korah, Dathan, and Abiram – members of Moses’ staff – led a rebellion against him … and felt they had every right to do so.

But when the ground later opened up, Moses was the only leader still standing on solid ground.

Why?  BECAUSE GOD HAD CALLED MOSES TO LEAD ISRAEL, NOT ANY OF THE OTHERS.

And the same thing is true today.  Regardless of a pastor’s personality flaws or creeping age, if God has called that person to be the pastor, then staff members either need to follow him or resign.

But if a staff member resists the pastor’s leadership … or openly rebels against him … his/her actions will become known, and send the signal to others, “We don’t have to follow the pastor’s leadership anymore.  We can all rebel.”

And World War 3 will break out in that church.

Church leaders can write policy manuals that hope to cover every possible situation, but regardless of their detailed planning, some anxiety-provoking event will always surface in a congregation.

Long beforehand, the wise pastor will tell his people:

“Not everything will go perfectly in this church.  No matter how well we plan, we will occasionally experience bumps and glitches along the road.  But when those situations occur, let’s resolve together to stay calm, to talk things out, to confess our shortcomings, and to forgive each other.  If we do that, we’ll triumph regardless of the issue.”

While we can’t stop anxiety from invading a congregation, wise leaders acknowledge that anxiety … bringing the level of conflict down … which enables God’s people to create spiritual and rational decisions rather than emotional and drastic ones.

What is the anxiety level of your congregation these days?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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I have a confession to make … and it’s very painful indeed.

My name is Shirley.  Earlier this year, I said something to a friend that eventually resulted in devastation for our pastor … his family … our church … and my family.

Several months ago, I came home from work early one day, and I passed by the home of my friend Sandi.

Sandi’s car was in the driveway, but her husband’s car was gone, and a Ford truck – belonging to our pastor – was parked in front of Sandi’s house.

My first thought was, “Could something be going on between Sandi and Pastor Joe?”

So I drove by several more times later that afternoon, just to be certain, and sure enough, the pastor’s truck was still there.

By 4:45, Pastor Joe’s truck was gone, and by 5:35, the car of Sandi’s husband was parked in their driveway.

I was suspicious.  Years before, I knew someone whose church was devastated when it was discovered that the pastor was having an affair, so I’ve always been on the lookout for such signs.

Of course, I didn’t have any proof that anything was happening between the pastor and Sandi, but if something was happening, I didn’t want to remain silent, either.

So I called Beth, a good friend and the wife of a board member, and told her what I saw.  Beth thanked me for my call.

Two weeks later, the conversation at church was dominated by a single topic: Pastor Joe and Sandi were having an affair!

For the next several Sundays, the congregation was full of tension.  People stood around in cliques and spoke in hushed tones before and after services.  I happened to walk by two groups, and overheard both of them discussing the same topic: the relationship between the pastor and Sandi.

But I didn’t dare tell anyone that I was the person who initially raised the issue.

Beth told me that the board had already held an emergency meeting without Pastor Joe.  Then the board called another meeting and met with Pastor Joe alone, who vigorously denied that he was having an affair with Sandi.

But right around that time, I started receiving emails and phone calls from people at church claiming that the pastor was guilty of even more wrongdoing.

He was accused of mishandling church funds … of firing the youth minister out of jealousy … of ignoring the seniors in our church … and of mismanaging his family.

Suddenly, it was open season on Pastor Joe.

There were so many rumors flying around about his character and conduct that the board didn’t know what to do.

Due to their anxiety, some important families threatened to leave the church unless Pastor Joe was fired, so the board asked for Pastor Joe’s resignation.

But the pastor didn’t want to resign.  He claimed that he had done nothing wrong, and that all the rumors were really overreactions.

But nobody seemed to hear Pastor Joe’s denials … they only focused on all the new charges.

And then two staff members … several members of the church board … and leaders from the women’s ministry made additional charges against Pastor Joe.

The staff members claimed that he never affirmed them and demanded too much from them.

Several board members stated that the pastor’s marriage must be in shambles because of his affair.

The women’s ministry leaders stated that Pastor Joe didn’t like women and that he always made them feel uncomfortable.

And on and on and on …

It’s been months since Pastor Joe finally left the church.  We have an interim pastor now, but we’ve lost one-third of our congregation … including some of my best friends … and the board has sent out three letters begging the congregation to give more money by year’s end or we won’t be able to pay our bills.

In the meantime, I eventually found out the real reason why Pastor Joe was at Sandi’s house that afternoon.

Sandi’s husband Neil was raised by an uncle.  The uncle lived across the country, and died suddenly of a heart attack.

The news devastated Neil.  He called Pastor Joe and asked him to come to his house right away.

When Pastor Joe went inside Sandi’s house, Neil was there the whole time … and Neil’s car was missing because it was in a repair shop.

If a couple need counseling, they usually go the pastor’s office at church … but if there’s a death in the family, the pastor usually goes to see them in their house.

I should have known that, but for some reason, I forgot.

Right now, I’m wracked with guilt … and I don’t want to tell anybody what I said or who I said it to.

I just pray that someday, Pastor Joe can forgive me.

_______________

This story is a composite of stories I’ve heard from pastors and board members, although I do know a situation where a pastor was forced to resign because his car was parked outside a woman’s house.

There are several themes to this sad but increasingly common narrative:

First, Shirley should have checked with either Pastor Joe or Sandi before she shared her suspicions with anyone else at church.

She might have emailed the pastor and said, “Hey, I noticed your truck at Neil and Sandi’s house last week.  Is everything okay?”

Or she might have walked up to Sandi at church the next Sunday and said, “I noticed that the pastor’s truck was outside your house last Thursday.  I hope things are all right with your family.”

Either way, she would have learned the true situation … since neither party had anything to hide … and that would have been the end of it.

Instead, Shirley failed to speak with either party and went straight to Beth, who talked to her husband, who passed Shirley’s suspicions on to the entire board … needlessly multiplying the number of people involved.

Second, Beth’s husband should have spoken immediately with the pastor and let him share his side of the story.

But he didn’t. Instead, he called the board chairman, who believed that since a board member was making the accusation against the pastor, it must be true.

But Beth’s husband didn’t make an accusation … he just raised a suspicion.  But that distinction was lost on the board chairman.

Unfortunately, with many people, a private suspicion is the same thing as a formal accusation because they hear things emotionally, not rationally.

The chairman could have told Beth’s husband, “Why don’t you call the pastor and find out why he was at Sandi’s house?”

Or the chairman could have suggested, “How would you feel if I called the pastor and got his side of the story?”

Instead, the chairman called a meeting of the entire board … escalating matters … and again, involving way too many people.

Third, the board didn’t keep a lid on their emergency meeting nor its purpose.

How many gossiping board members does it take to bring down a pastor?

Just one.

And how many gossiping board member’s wives does it take to bring down a pastor?

Just one.

There are a few people in every church who can be trusted to keep important matters confidential.

However, there are many more people who can’t be trusted with anything important.

But some church leaders want to make themselves look significant.  They long to tell people, “I know something you don’t know about our pastor.”

But when they do that … especially when they’re passing on false or incomplete information … the results can be deadly.

When certain people inside a church hear either a board member or a board member’s wife make a serious charge against their pastor, they focus on who is making the charge just as much as the charge itself.

In other words, they take the charge as the gospel truth without any independent verification.

Although those leaders could be completely wrong, their office and status in the church makes them automatically believable to many individuals.

Fourth, when a pastor denies accusations made against him, some people will ignore his protests and bury him with even more accusations.

I can’t get my head around this reality, but it happens all the time.

Because they’re public and influential figures, pastors are frequently accused of wrongdoing.

Sometimes the accusations are made in a restaurant after a Sunday service … or in a car driving home … or after a small group meeting … or via email or texting.

Let’s say a pastor is accused by various churchgoers of doing 100 things wrong in a church one year.

And let’s say that 93 of the accusations are made in private and never circulate inside the congregation, so they just disappear.

Then let’s say that four accusations are brought directly to the pastor’s attention, and he refutes them with ease.

And let’s say that two accusations are brought to the board, and they check with their pastor, who again debunks them.

But let’s say one accusation takes on a life of its own, and that key leaders believe it … and spread it … without ever checking with the pastor first.

That single unproven, unverified accusation has the potential to end the pastor’s tenure in that church.

Because when an accusation circulates long enough … and is passed around to enough people … it takes on a life of its own even if it’s untrue … because the pastor doesn’t know anything about it.

Paul’s caution to Timothy must be among the least-obeyed verses in the entire New Testament:

Do not entertain an accusation against an elder [includes pastors; see verses 17-18] unless it is brought by two or three witnesses.  1 Timothy 5:19

Did you catch that?  The elders/board and the congregation should not even entertain an accusation against a pastor unless two or three witnesses are willing to go on the record.

And going on the record means that when they make their accusations, the pastor is allowed to face his accusers and respond to them.

In our little story, Shirley saw the pastor’s truck.  Beth didn’t … her husband didn’t … and the board chairman didn’t … but none of them possessed the wisdom or the courage to speak with the pastor directly.

The result?

Devastation all around.

Fifth, when one serious allegation about a pastor circulates around the church, people often add their own grievances to the mix.

I hear this story all the time.

Let’s say that a board member is telling people that the pastor has mishandled his expense account … and that the news is getting around the church.

When some people sense that the pastor is in trouble, it’s common for them to throw their own complaints about him into the hopper.

Rather than praying for the pastor and their church … or assuming a confident stance that the pastor will be exonerated … or waiting for an investigation to determine the truth … these individuals “pile on” the pastor with their own bitter feelings about him.

And when those allegations reach critical mass, the pastor can’t answer them all, and because those charges hang over him unresolved, he usually has to resign.

Finally, God’s people are all too quick to believe the worst about their pastors.

Becoming a credentialed pastor requires a lot of work.

I was a pastor for 36 years.  To become a pastor:

*I attended a Christian liberal arts college for four years before graduating.

*I attended seminary for five years to earn a Master of Divinity degree.

*I was ordained in my home church, which required that I share my conversion testimony, call to ministry, and a written statement of faith before several dozen Christian leaders, mostly pastors.

*I borrowed funds to complete my education (some prospective pastors borrow tens of thousands of dollars).

*I spent seven more years earning a Doctor of Ministry degree.

I wanted to be the best pastor I could be … and thousands of my colleagues have walked a similar path to gain their credentials.

But in today’s climate, one false allegation … one unsubstantiated rumor … can end not only a pastor’s tenure in a particular church, but also his entire career.

If a pastor is guilty of heresy, sexual immorality, or criminal behavior, he should resign voluntarily, and if he doesn’t, a church board has every right to dismiss him from office while still treating him with dignity and compassion.

But so often, a pastor is forced to resign, not because he did anything wrong, but because church leaders … usually those on the official board … let church politics determine their pastor’s future rather than devising and implementing a biblical, fair, and just process to evaluate any accusations made against him.

The pastor ends up leaving the church because church leaders let the accusations against him get out of hand.

Earlier I mentioned that I know a pastor who was forced to resign because his car was parked outside the home of a woman in his congregation.

Years later, a new pastor came to that church, and asked the previous pastor to return so the congregation could ask the pastor to forgive them for the way they mistreated him.

Maybe Shirley will repent, too, for the way she started the rumor mill grinding about her pastor.

But she shouldn’t be the only one to repent.

There’s more than enough blame to go around.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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