Where in life do you experience the most conflict?
On the job with passive-aggressive subordinates or insensitive supervisors?
In the neighborhood with barking dogs and mischievous students?
At your church with loud worship bands and unfriendly ushers?
In your home with lazy kids and an uncooperative spouse?
How about on the road?
My wife and I just returned today from a little trip to the Revolutionary War sites of Concord and Lexington, both in Massachusetts. We drove about 60 miles each way. (I’m serving a church in New England for a few months.)
In the short distance we traveled, we met some drivers who caused some conflict. Let me draw some parallels between these drivers and certain churchgoers.
First, some drivers … like some churchgoers … are always driving in the slow lane.
Six days a week, I drive 21 miles up and down Interstate 93 here in New Hampshire. The 93 features two wide lanes and excellent road surfaces.
Some drivers stay in the slow lane … not because they’re going the speed limit, but because they’ve chosen a speed that’s comfortable for them.
I hate driving behind those people.
Some churchgoers are like this, too. They want life at church to go slowly. They especially resist change.
They prefer to find their place on the road, put their life on cruise control, and force everyone else to pass them.
I don’t blame church attendees for feeling this way. If they wish to camp in the slow lane, that’s allowed.
However, some slow laners swerve into the fast lane on occasion … not for passing … but to obstruct faster drivers.
I’ve seen staff members try this trick … along with board members … musicians … youth leaders … and seniors.
They want to keep the church from changing too quickly, so they do their best to slow everything down.
Rule-of-thumb: if you want to travel at a leisurely pace, stay in the slow lane … and let others pass you by.
Second, some drivers … like some churchgoers … are always pushing you from behind.
This afternoon, as I drove from New Hampshire into Massachusetts, a woman came racing up behind me in the fast lane and placed her car nearly up against mine.
Such driving is characteristic of people with road rage.
I was already going plenty fast … and we were at a place on the highway where there are several miles of turns without straightaways … and I couldn’t get into the slow lane.
My wife was so bugged at the woman … who was smoking … that my wife turned around and stared at her to get her to back off.
But she didn’t back off.
After I got over, the woman passed me going at least 90 miles an hour.
Some church leaders … especially pastors … have a habit of pushing people from behind as well.
Instead of leading the sheep, they drive the sheep.
“Read your Bible! Join a group! Deposit your tithe! Use your gifts! Come every Sunday! Share your faith! Pray without ceasing!”
All good counsel for believers. It’s the way the pastor does it that counts.
If he’s doing it for his own purposes, that’s manipulation.
If he’s doing it to help others grow spiritually, that’s motivation.
The driver who kept pushing me didn’t know me and certainly didn’t love me … especially when my car bore a California license plate.
And when a pastor drives his people, one suspects he doesn’t know or love them very well, either.
Rule-of-thumb: follow leaders who know and love you … and get as far away as possible from the others.
Finally, some drivers … like churchgoers … want to occupy the same space at the same time as you do.
We were preparing to merge tonight from Interstate 95 going east onto Interstate 93 going north … and there was a lot of traffic around us.
As I tried to merge into the slow lane about 1/2 mile away, I couldn’t do it because a driver was going very slow.
So I sped up … and just as I planned to get over … an unbroken line of cars merged into our lane from Interstate 93 going north.
It didn’t look like I could get over in time … but I did … barely … after loudly lamenting the fact that some engineer made a mistake by putting a freeway on-ramp about 1/8 mile from a freeway off-ramp.
Conflict occurs in churches when two parties want the same space at the same time.
The children’s director asks for and receives permission three months ahead of time to hold a special event in the youth room on November 20.
The youth director never notices … assuming he’ll always have use of the room.
On the morning of November 20, he walks into the youth room only to find the children’s director decorating the room for her event.
The youth director goes nuts. That’s his room!
Conflict.
Or here’s another scenario.
The young moms group meets every other Thursday at the church from 10-11:30 am … but this month, they decide to have a potluck lunch after their meeting … without telling anybody.
All the moms bring their favorite dish and place it in the refrigerator before the meeting.
While they’re meeting, the leader of the seniors’ group walks into the kitchen to take out the food for the seniors’ luncheon … and finds piles of unauthorized food blocking her authorized food instead.
Conflict.
Sometimes conflict at church just happens. It’s nobody’s fault.
But sometimes, it’s the result of poor planning … or faulty communication … or a way too aggressive attitude.
Rule-of-thumb: plan your moves early, signal your intentions clearly, and move into daylight boldly.
Last month, my wife and I drove 3,200 miles across America.
We encountered some terrible roads (especially in Oklahoma), some awful weather (especially in Missouri), some horrendous drivers (especially in Massachusetts), and some costly toll roads (especially in New York.)
But even though I experienced conflicts on the road, I quickly forgot about each one.
Why?
Because driving has been second nature to me for more than four decades.
When we learn to practice what the Bible says about resolving conflicts, they will become second nature for us as well.
Pastors and Their Predecessors
October 17, 2012 by Jim Meyer
I’ve been reading an 8-year-old book on pastoral transitions called The Elephant in the Boardroom: Speaking the Unspoken About Pastoral Transitions by Carolyn Weese and J. Russell Crabtree.
The book’s first chapter lays out the principles Jesus used in ministry transition.
John the Baptist was Jesus’ predecessor, the apostles His successors.
One passage in this chapter really stood out for me:
“Jesus was not afraid to talk about His predecessor in public. Yet many church members experience an eerie silence on the part of their new pastor regarding the work of his or her predecessor. It would be refreshing and liberating for many members to hear their pastor speak, in positive terms, the name of the pastor who went before and was referred to as an instrument in God’s plan for building that church.”
This problem is so pervasive that some pastors won’t even allow churchgoers to talk about a previous pastor in their presence:
“Members need leaders to listen to them talk about their affection for their predecessor. This enables them to integrate their past and present experiences rather than compartmentalize them. If the leader is unwilling to do this, it places an emotional burden on the members. In one church, members made an agreement with one another not to speak the name of a former pastor except in private for nearly twenty years after the pastor left the community and moved to another state!”
However, Jesus spoke about John the Baptizer – who was also His cousin – on many occasions in public (Matt. 11:11; 21:32; Mark 11:30; Luke 7:33). Jesus provides a healthy example for pastors in that regard. But not all pastors do this:
“In reality, the opposite is often the case. A pastor is sometimes so threatened by the esteem paid to a predecessor that he or she gives the signal to members that they are not to speak about the predecessor in the pastor’s presence.”
We might expect this kind of behavior from an ex-wife, or an ego-driven politician, but a pastor? Out of all professions, wouldn’t you think that a pastor could handle talk about his predecessor with grace and class?
Many years ago, I became a staff member in a church where the previous staffer was practically worshiped.
Not only did I know this man, but he recommended that I succeed him.
He was a dedicated man … a thoughtful man … a gifted man … but he’d be the first one to tell you he wasn’t a god.
But after he left, he assumed godlike status. (Years later, we both had a good laugh over this.)
For my first six months in that church, I couldn’t do anything right. I was criticized by some of the students and especially the adult leaders, who missed their friend terribly.
My sin? I wasn’t him.
I didn’t understand the attachment they had to him, so I didn’t know how to handle matters.
They were grieving the loss of someone who meant a great deal to them. If I had been more mature, I could have dealt with the issue openly … and mentioned his name out loud.
The problem wasn’t between the two of us … it was between his followers and me.
One day, while reading John 3, I came upon the passage where John the Baptist’s ministry was receding into the shadows while Jesus stepped into the limelight.
John’s disciples were pretty upset about this transition. But John settled them down, climaxing in his famous statement in John 3:30:
“He must increase, but I must decrease.”
John was secure in his role. He knew he wasn’t the Messiah … he was the forerunner to the Messiah.
The problem wasn’t between John and Jesus … it was between John’s followers and Jesus … as well as His newly-called disciples.
John defused things nicely and let Jesus take over … and Jesus returned the favor by openly mentioning and complimenting John on many occasions.
Isn’t this a great model for pastors today?
Every pastor will leave a church someday … even a beloved church.
A pastor might die in the pulpit … or suffer disability and quit … or be involuntarily terminated … or take a position in another church … or retire gracefully.
But every pastor will eventually leave a church.
If the next pastor won’t mention the name of his predecessor in public, and retains jealous feelings about his success, and tries to dismantle ministries the previous pastor constructed, then the new pastor’s ego is much too large … and God will have to work on shrinking it … just like He did with me in the story above.
(Just for kicks, mention the names of one or two of your church’s previous pastors to your current pastor, and see how he responds.)
While attending a class in my doctoral program, I jogged one day over to a megachurch in the area.
As I entered the lobby, I noticed a painting of the church’s present pastor, along with his two predecessors.
Predecessor Number One was a great preacher and an author who had written some books I had once read.
Predecessor Number Two was a friend of my father-in-law and an author as well.
The present pastor had taught a class that I took in college and had once led a retreat for 50 kids in my youth group.
The painting seemed to say, “We are all friends and colleagues. No one of us is better than the other. You cannot drive a wedge between us, so don’t even try.”
Maybe a church could invite all of its living pastors together sometime … for a church reunion, or a social event, or the installation of a new pastor.
The pastors could catch up … and swap stories with each other … and take a tour of the facility together … and begin to bond as leaders … and friends.
Someone might even commission a photograph or a painting that could be hung in a promiment place in the church as if to say:
“These are the pastors who have made us who we are today.”
Maybe they could even be asked to stand in front of the congregation and say nice things about each other.
What do you think about this issue? I’d love to hear your thoughts!
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Posted in Change and Conflict in Church, Conflict with the Pastor, Personal Stories, Please Comment! | Tagged pastoral transitions, pastors and predecessors, pastors and successors, The Elephant in the Boardroom | 4 Comments »