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There’s a scene in the first Lord of the Rings film – The Fellowship of the Ring – that reminds me of some Christians that I’ve known.

While relaxing in gorgeous Rivendell – right before the Fellowship takes off for Mordor – Frodo reunites with Bilbo.  After Bilbo offers Frodo his sword and the protective Mithril, Frodo unbuttons his shirt to reveal the ring.  The kindly Bilbo tells Frodo how much he’d like to hold it one last time, but when Frodo buttons his shirt back up – indicating he doesn’t want Bilbo to touch it – Bilbo snarls, his face turns hideous, and he lunges at Frodo.

I’ve seen that look before … on the faces of Christian people.

I’m thinking in particular of three kinds of two-faced believers:

First, there’s the believer who praises God on Sunday and dishonors God during the week.

I once knew a man who hit on women at church.  Every week, he’d sit next to or near a different woman, brazenly making his intentions known.  I didn’t find out about his approaches until he hit on a high school girl.  (He left the church right before I threw him off the property.)

One night, I was channel-surfing and ran across a telecast of a worship service from a megachurch in our area.  A man in the front row was singing gustily to the Lord with his hands outstretched.

Guess who?

By the measure of some Christians, the enraptured believer on the front row just HAD to be a spiritual man.  However, I knew differently … and so did the Lord.

I’m reminded of David’s words in Psalm 24:3-4: “Who may ascend the hill of the Lord?  Who may stand in his holy place?  He who has clean hands and a pure heart …”

Sometimes we worship God with two faces, don’t we?

Second, there’s the believer who shows one face to their pastor and another to their friends.

I once knew a woman who displayed a face of sweetness and innocence in public.  She developed a reputation as a kind and loving person who wouldn’t hurt a fly.

But there was another side to her that most people never saw.

One time, I confronted her about undermining me.  She completely denied it … and her face resembled Bilbo’s when he eyed the ring around Frodo’s neck.  It was unbelievable.

Now here’s the kicker: she undermined me all the time.  I knew she was doing it, but she never knew that I knew.

She displayed one face around me … and another face when I wasn’t around.

James 5:11-12 says, “Brothers, do not slander one another …. There is only one Lawgiver and Judge, the one who is able to save and destroy.  But you – who are you to judge your neighbor?”

But I can act differently around pastors, too.

Our church just hired a new teaching pastor.  He’s really good.  After yesterday’s service, my wife and I left the worship center and doubled back toward the grill for a hamburger lunch … and ran right into the teaching pastor, who was on the patio after the service.

This is more unusual than it sounds.  There were thousands of people on campus at the time.

Because we enjoyed and benefited from his message, we walked right up to him and told him so.  We engaged in conversation for a couple minutes … and he asked me to send him a copy of my book (which is finished and going out for endorsements).

But imagine that right after the service, I criticized his message instead.  Would I have wanted to meet him?

Nope, I would have avoided him at all costs.

There’s a lesson in there somewhere.

Finally, there’s the believer who can see faults in others but not in themselves.

True or false: a Christian should never confront another person about their behavior.

That is so false.

Jesus tells us we can in Matthew 7:3-5.  He asks why we focus on the specks of sawdust in another person’s eyes while ignoring the plank in our own eye.  And then He says:

“You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye” (verse 5).

It’s okay for a follower of Jesus to remove small faults from the eyes of other believers … as long as we’ve removed the large faults in our own lives first.

And that process can take quite a while.

I once knew a man who was kind and loving and hospitable.  To me, he was a phenomenal Christian.  He constantly let me know that he cared about me and listened to me and prayed with me.  I haven’t seen him for many years, and I miss him very much.

But he didn’t seem to have time to criticize others because he was so focused on his own imperfections.  He was brutally honest about them, too … and his authenticity drew me toward him.

While he was honest about his own faults, he was gracious toward the faults of others … including mine.

That, my friends, is the indication of a truly spiritual man or woman.  Whether in public or in private, he seemed to wear only one face.

But hypocrites wear two or more faces, depending upon who they’re with at the time.

May I encourage you: wear only one face in all times and places – and before all people.

Just like Jesus did.

Jesus once summarized the entire Old Testament Law this way:

“Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind” (Matthew 22:37).

God wants us to love Him with our minds.

He wants us to use our brains to distinguish between truth and falsehood and good and evil.

This means that the Lord wants us to critique the culture we live in, the speakers we hear, the books we read, and all that goes on around us.

In that sense, it is good to be critical, as I mentioned two articles back when I asked, “When is Christian Criticism Right?”

However, there are professing Christians in every church who are hypercritical.

They aren’t involved in spiritual ministry and look for flaws in their church and pastor.

Here are two more traits of Christian hypercritics:

For starters, Christian hypercritics rejoice when other Christians fall. 

When a hypercritic hears about a scandal involving a Christian leader, they’re actually happy about it.  As they recount the details to their friends, they feel good inside . . . as if they have ascended a spiritual ladder one rung because someone higher up fell all the way down.

And when someone’s marriage in the church is on the rocks . . . or the teenage girl of a prominent family gets pregnant out of wedlock . . . or a staff member says something stupid in a worship service . . . they love passing on that information to their network and consider it to be good news.

But in the Love Chapter, Paul says that “love does not delight in evil, but rejoices with the truth.  It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres” (1 Corinthians 13:6).

From a pastoral perspective, when churchgoers publicly sin or privately hurt, it’s not good news, it’s bad news.  God can turn the bad news into good news, but it takes a lot of prayer, love, and time for that to happen.

But the hypercritic rejoices when others hurt because the pain of others gives them something to talk about.

Finally, Christian hypercritics apply ministry to others, not themselves.

When I was in seminary, I took homiletics (preaching) from the late Howard Yim.  One day in class, Howard surprised me with something he said.

After a sermon, a pastor sometimes asks people to close their eyes and raise their hands if they’d like to make some kind of commitment to God as a believer.

Howard mentioned that he sometimes raised his hand after such a message.  I thought to myself, “You do?”

Up to that time, part of me thought that Howard was too cool to need changing.  But when he heard God’s Word preached – even though he taught preaching – his heart was open to the Lord’s work in his life.

I suddenly realized that as a preaching student, I was more interested in how a preacher crafted his message than how that message could impact my life.

Instead of hearing a message and thinking, “I hope my wife’s catching that point . . . and Joe over there needs to listen to that verse with both ears . . . and those gossips in the back need to pay attention to this …” – I’d apply the message 100% to my own heart.

I’d block out everybody else and just focus on what God was saying to me.

Hypercritical Christians won’t do that, though, because they’re critical of everyone but themselves.

As Paul asked in Romans 2:21-22: “You, then, who teach others, do you not teach yourself?  You who preach against stealing, do you steal?  You who say that people should not commit adultery, do you commit adultery?  You who abhor idols, do you rob temples?”

A key mark of spiritual growth is that you apply God’s Word to your life, not the lives of everybody else.  Let the Holy Spirit work in their lives … and realize you’re not the Holy Spirit.

I’d write more about hypercritical Christians . . . but I’m coming dangerously close to becoming one myself.

What are your thoughts about hypercritical believers?

During the old Muppets show on television, Kermit and Miss Piggy and Fozzie Bear and Cookie Monster and the gang were doing their best to put on a show on stage with different guest stars every week.

But up in the balcony, two old codgers ridiculed much of what they did.  These self-appointed critics didn’t sing or dance or act (although they were funny at times).  Instead, they hypercriticized whatever the Muppets did.

The spirit of those critics lives on in way too many churches today.

Let me share with you two qualities of a Christian hypercritic (I’ll finish up next time):

First, hypercritics aren’t involved in spiritual ministry.  You might find them on the facility team, or running the soundboard, or counting money – all worthwhile endeavors – but hypercritics tend to avoid getting too close to God.

For that reason, you won’t find them at a prayer meeting, or in a small group, or sharing their faith.

Hypercritics prefer not to stand on the front lines and fight shoulder to shoulder with their fellow soldiers.

Instead, they’d rather do their own thing – while focusing on the backsides of those on the front lines.

In the initial episode of Black Adder (a British comedy starring Rowan Atkinson of Mr. Bean fame), the king calls all able-bodied men out to battle the following morning.  Black Adder oversleeps and meanders toward the battle on his horse … but rides away instead.  When he sees the back of a solider standing by a tree, Black Adder sneaks up and cuts off his head … only to realize that he cut off the head of his own king!

That, my friends, is an all-too-accurate picture of a Christian hypercritic.

Christians on the front lines don’t have time to hypercriticize everybody else.  They’re too busy serving their King and waging war with the enemy.

But hypercritics are rarely visible – possibly so that others won’t hypercriticize them.

Please don’t misunderstand: I am not saying that every believer who isn’t on the front lines is a hypercritic.  (No believer can serve on the front lines forever.)  However, you’ll find most Christian hypercritics as far away from the real battle as they can get.

Second, hypercritics look for flaws in their pastor and church.  Remember what the Pharisees and their allies did to Jesus?  Right at the beginning of His ministry, they watched Him heal a man with a shriveled hand on the Sabbath … and began to plot how to kill Him (Mark 3:1-6).

For the rest of Jesus’ ministry, His opponents spied on Him relentlessly.  He became a threat to their authority and influence, so they tried to find something they could use to discredit and destroy Him.

A few years ago, I took a class on conflict management from Dr. David Augsburger at Fuller Seminary.  During the week, a former megachurch pastor (whose name I knew well) was the class chaplain.  If you wanted to meet with him, he’d schedule a time for you.

I immediately asked if we could have lunch together, and we went out for pizza.  During our time together, he told me how he served the same church for nearly 30 years … and how nasty so many of the people were.  He said no matter how well he preached on Sunday, or how well the services or ministries went, he knew he’d receive a barrage of criticism the next day.

I had visited this pastor’s church and admired it from afar … and had no idea those people were so mean.

Hypercritical Christians find flaws in everything at their church:

*The pastor’s message was too short … or long.

*The pastor didn’t dress appropriately.

*I didn’t like his introduction … or his illustrations … or his applications … or the way he read Scripture … or his attempts at humor … or his accent … or his enunciation … or his haircut … or his voice …

*The music went too long … or we should have had more hymns … or the guitar was too loud … or I didn’t like the soloist … or the mix was bad … or I didn’t know any of the songs … and on and on and on.

It’s one thing to notice things that go wrong at church.  It’s another thing to look for things to go wrong.

Hypercritics want things to go wrong … so they can gripe about them later on.

I guess that makes them feel important … but I have yet to find the spiritual gift of hypercritic in the New Testament.

What are some other qualities of hypercritics that you’ve noticed?

When I was in seminary, we had chapel four days a week: Tuesdays through Fridays.  (The school was closed on Mondays because most pastors took Monday off after a grueling Sunday.)

I attended chapels on all those days, and sat in the very back row with my friend Dave.  (We both had to leave after chapel ended to go to work.)

While sitting there, I sometimes dreamed about being asked to speak in chapel.

What would I talk about if I had only one shot?

Hypercriticism among Christians.

Let me share three types of legitimate criticism that Christians engage in, and then deal with hypercriticism in my next article.

First, Christians must think critically.  We can’t believe everything a president, journalist, televangelist, or pastor tells us.  We have to test a person’s words both with biblical truth and with reality.

While discussing spiritual gifts – and tongue-speaking in particular – Paul wrote to the church in Corinth, “Brothers, stop thinking like children.  In regard to evil be infants, but in your thinking, be adults” (1 Corinthians 14:20).

And John writes, “Dear friends, do not believe every spirit, but test the spirits to see whether they are from God, because many false prophets have gone out into the world” (1 John 4:1).

Just because you like a Christian leader or a pastor doesn’t mean they’re always accurate in their teaching.  All teachers – however eloquent they may be – toy with heresy at times … or ride certain hobby horses into the ground.

We have to learn how to discern truth from falsehood and right from wrong.

This is why I always discuss a pastor’s sermon with my wife after I’ve heard it.

Much of the time, I agree with everything the pastor says.  (My current pastor is right on the money most of the time, which is why I’ve chosen him as my pastor.)

Occasionally, I’ll disagree with his interpretation of a biblical passage or hear a misstated fact.

But there are times when I hear someone preach and my mind is troubled by what I’ve just heard.

Last summer, a staff pastor at my church gave a disjointed message.  He was supposed to preach on a parable of Jesus, but he only spent five minutes on that text.  Instead, he went off on tangents both before and after discussing the parable.  While he was speaking, I told my wife, “Something’s wrong with him.  I have a feeling this may be his last message.”

As it turned out, I was right – and needed to cut him some slack for that reason.

It’s appropriate for churchgoers to discuss a pastor’s message after he preaches.  In fact, I still think every church in America should set up microphones after the message and let people ask questions of the speaker.  Shouldn’t communication in our day be less one-way and more two-way?  And wouldn’t we learn a lot more?

Second, Christians need to critique the culture.  Years ago, somebody taught me that whenever I see a movie, I need to discuss it with someone afterward.

Did I understand the filmmaker’s message?  Was it consistent with Christian values?

Back in the 1970s, some Christian films were released into theatres.  Most of these films were preachy, poorly-acted, and had plot holes the size of the Arizona Meteor Crater.  While they worked on a certain level, they were multiple levels beneath the filmmaking done in Hollywood.

Then along came “Chariots of Fire” in 1981.  That Oscar-winning film raised the bar considerably for films of faith.

I probably see two movies a month in a theater.  The last film I saw was “The Vow.”  Before seeing it, I didn’t know the story was based on real events in the lives of a Christian couple.

For the most part, the film presented the upside of commitment and was consistent with biblical values.

But I thought the film was plodding and plotless much of the time.  My wife liked it more than I did – but we discussed it all the way home.

When we see movies or TV shows or hear music, we need to critique both the message and the methodology involved.

(Someday, if you want to discuss the biblical references in the music of Bob Dylan or U2, let me know.)

Third, Christians may need to be critical when we confront someone.  Jesus was critical of His disicples at times.  Paul was critical of the behavior at the church in Corinth and the doctrine of the church in Galatia.

It’s tough to say to someone you care about, “I’ve been detecting a pattern in your life recently.  I hope I’m wrong, but this is what I’ve seen and heard.  Can you shed some light on this for me?”

When we criticize someone in this manner, we need to make sure our motives are pure.  Galatians 6:1 says that only “you who are spiritual” should engage in this kind of confrontation, watching yourself in the process “or you also may be tempted.”

And we need to make sure that we’re trying to “restore him gently” rather than bulldozing the person with our criticism.

Because although we may feel our motives in a confrontation are pure, the person receiving our criticism may disagree … and we may lose that friend forever.

God gave His people minds, and we need to use them constantly.  (Symbolically, our heads tower over our hearts.)  We’ll need to exercise discernment while listening to sermons, watching movies, or confronting sin in a fellow believer’s life.

This kind of criticism is necessary, healthy, and spiritual.

But hypercriticism is a completely different matter.  Let’s look at that issue next time.

I’ve been working for more than two years on a book about the unjust ways that many pastors are treated in our day.  The estimate is that 1,300 pastors per month are involuntarily terminated.

I have five small tasks to finish before the book is complete.

Here’s an excerpt:

Why aren’t Christians doing more to combat the forced termination of pastors?

I’m weary of the excuses that Christians use as to why we won’t do more about this issue:

”We need to preserve the autonomy of the local church.”  Of course, but at the very least, we can tell stories, train leaders, expose the template, and teach believers how to deal with pastoral antagonists.  The article “If You Must Terminate a Pastor” on my blog has been viewed hundreds of times (three-and-a-half times more than any other article), an indication that many board members and lay people want help with this topic.

”Pastors must expect to suffer like Jesus.”  We’ve been told we’re going to suffer since seminary, but we had no idea that attacks from fellow Christians could be so vicious.  Besides, Jesus was crucified by religious and political enemies, not by His disciples.  While His men fled when He needed them most, they didn’t drive the nails into His hands.  Jesus was betrayed by only one follower, but pastors are routinely betrayed by staff members, board members, predecessors, and denominational personnel – and sometimes, they work in concert.

”We need to maintain confidentiality about forced exits.”  This is a church wide problem, cutting across all denominations and theologies.  This plea for confidentiality is nothing more than a cover-up for our incompetence in preventing and managing these tragedies – and is exactly what Satan wants.  When professing Christians abuse and batter clergy, and pastors try to talk about it, we rush to hush them up in the name of unity.  But isn’t this the same tactic abusive husbands use with their wives?  What would happen if we still couldn’t talk about that problem?

“Shedding light on this issue is poor marketing for the Christian faith.”  But if we can make progress in alleviating this problem, wouldn’t the image of many churches improve?  Let’s learn our lessons and brainstorm solutions so these conflicts don’t become so destructive.

I’d like to find just a few Christians who are outraged at the way pastors are mistreated today.  In Matthew 23:33-35, Jesus was still outraged at the way God’s leaders had been treated by religious people throughout Jewish history:

“You snakes! You brood of vipers! How will you escape being condemned to hell?  Therefore I am sending you prophets and wise men and teachers.  Some of them you will kill and crucify; others you will flog in your synagogues and pursue from town to town.  And so upon you will come all the righteous blood that has been shed on earth, from the blood of righteous Abel to the blood of Zechariah son of Berekiah, whom you murdered between the temple and the altar.”

Jesus stood alone in condemning these past injustices committed against God’s servants.

Where are His descendants today?

What do you think we can do to eradicate this plague on Christ’s churches?

Last Sunday, I had the privilege of preaching at a church in California.

And I enjoyed it very much.

Last November, for the first time in nearly two years, I spoke at another church in California.  While I was grateful for the opportunity, I was so out of sync that I forgot my Bible.  (I borrowed my wife’s.)

But things went well this past Sunday – and I remembered my Bible!

I spoke on John 3:16.  While I considered Hebrews 6:4-6, I let that thought pass.

When you haven’t run for a while, it’s better to attempt a mile than a marathon.

Here’s what I miss most about preaching:

First, I miss the preparation time.  I love interpreting a passage … and doing research on it … and finding relevant applications … and synthesizing material … and the actual writing of the message itself.

I love it so much that in my last ministry, I usually studied far into the night on Thursdays and didn’t finish the message until around noon on Friday – my day off.

When you speak every week, your consciousness is heightened all week long because you’re constantly scanning your surroundings for applications and stories.

And your whole week culminates in Sunday morning.

I miss that.

Second, I miss the pre-service prayer time.  Last Sunday, the people involved in the service gathered in a side room.  We all held hands and then the pastor prayed for the service.

In the past, I always felt pulled in two directions right before the service.

On the one hand, I wanted to visit with churchgoers because I genuinely loved them.  While I couldn’t get to everybody, I wanted to reach as many people as I could … and most people showed up a few minutes before the service started.

But I also wanted to be present for the pre-service prayer – because I needed it myself.

I miss that.

Third, I miss the moment right before the message starts.  I suppose it’s a similar feeling for actors, or singers, or musicians.  You know you’re about ready to go on … and there’s no backing out now.

And you’ve been preparing diligently for that very moment.

One of my favorite preachers, D. Martyn Lloyd-Jones, used to refer to “the romance of preaching.”  He told his students that you never knew what God was going to do on any particular Sunday.

Sometimes you prepare well and the message falls flat.  Other times, you’re ill-prepared and the Spirit of God just carries you along.

Ah, the romance of preaching.

I miss that.

Fourth, I miss expounding the Word of God.  I believe in the primacy of Scripture.  God’s people are to follow His Word regardless of what the state, business, education, or family say about a matter.

That’s an awesome responsibility: to challenge the culture with a book that’s twenty to forty centuries old.

When I’m preaching God’s Word, I am conscious that I am standing in a long line of preachers who believe they have a word from God for their hearers.

For example: while we all know that “God loves me,” this question crossed my mind as I was preparing for the message:

How do we know that God loves us?

There are many faiths that don’t believe that God loves people.  Why do we think He does?

First, because He tells us so in His written Word: “For God so loved the world …”

Second, because “He gave His one and only Son …”

Without God’s Word and God’s Son, we would not know that God loves us.

Sounds so simple … but it’s incredibly profound … and it’s the job of the preacher to remind us of those truths.

I miss that.

Finally, I miss liberating people with truth.  Jesus said in John 8:32, “Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.”

This is true liberation theology.

Charles Spurgeon used to say that a sermon should make people sad, mad, or glad.

But I always had one overarching aim when I preached: to free people with truth.

I never tried to shame people, or make them feel guilty, or condemn them for being human.

Instead, I tried to point listeners to the only One who could loose their chains: Jesus.

I miss that.

Over the past two years, I’ve resigned myself to the fact that I may never preach again.

Most churches in our day have just one teacher, and that’s the pastor.  If you’re not paid to preach, you ain’t preaching.

But the Lord may be opening up an opportunity for me to preach every week … and if He does, I’ll be eternally grateful.

Because as much as I act like I don’t miss it, I do.

There’s an old adage: “Never follow someone successful.”

It was hard for Steve Young to follow Joe Montana, or for Steven Tyler to follow Simon Cowell, or for Robert California to follow Michael Scott.  (I’m still lamenting that move.)

And it’s hard for some pastors to follow a predecessor as well.

Pastors are affected by their predecessors because (a) the way the previous pastor left the church, and (b) the shape in which he left it directly impacts the current pastor’s success – at least for the first few years.

When I arrived at my first church, I was their fourth pastor in five years.  While I met the first and second pastors, I never met my immediate predecessor.  Evidently he was only at the church for a year and then was unceremonially dismissed.  (I heard it had something to do with the way he acted at a bowling alley one night.)

For the next 16 1/2 years, I didn’t have to deal with any predecessors.

But a few years later, I was called to a church and served on staff right alongside their pastor for a while … and then he retired and became my predecessor.

What was my responsibility toward him?

I believe my job was to express gratitude publicly for his ministry, defend him if anyone criticized him, and make sure we remained on good terms … although as the church turned over, fewer people knew who he was.

What was his responsibility toward me?

I believe his job was to pray for me, support my ministry publicly, and to send any critics back to me without listening to their complaints.

If a pastor’s ministry is a failure, would that make his predecessor sad?

If a pastor’s ministry is successful, would that make his predecessor joyful?

The answer to both questions is, “It all depends.”

When Saul knew that David would succeed him as Israel’s king, he became jealous and tried to assassinate David several times.

But the biblical pattern is for a predecessor to support his successor.  Think Moses and Joshua, Eli and Samuel, Elijah and Elisha, and John the Baptist and Jesus.  (In fact, John said about Jesus, “He must increase, but I must decrease.”)

Why?  Because the kingdom matters more than its personalities.  Advancing God’s kingdom is everything.

Back in the late 1970s, the king of late-night talk shows, Johnny Carson, began taking Monday nights off.  (He had done 5 90-minute Tonight shows for years and was worn out, even when the show went to its current 60-minute length.)

Johnny invited a variety of guest hosts on Monday nights – David Brenner, Joan Rivers, and John Denver among them.

If you were Johnny Carson, would you want those hosts to succeed or fail?

The audience responded favorably to the guest hosts, which might have angered some Hollywood icons … but Johnny was thrilled.  Why?

In an interview, Johnny said, “When the show does well, I do well, and it makes me look good.”

Think about that long and hard.

Now let’s come back to pastors and their predecessors.

Let’s imagine you’ve been a pastor for 25 years.  You’re worn out.  You leave your church behind and do something else.

A new pastor eventually succeeds you.  Do you want him to succeed or fail?

If he succeeds, the kingdom looks good and advances.

If he fails, the kingdom doesn’t look as good and stalls.

Which would you prefer?

Wouldn’t a godly man want his successor to succeed rather than fail?

And wouldn’t he do everything he could to insure his success?

Then why do so many pastors behave in the opposite fashion?

Not long ago, I spoke to a Christian counselor who deals with wounded pastors for a living.

He told me that too many pastors undermine their successors.

They listen to the criticisms of former parishoners, giving their complaints legitimacy.

They agree with the criticisms of staff members, emboldening them to resist their current pastor.

They criticize their successor themselves, forcing people to choose between them.

While the ex-pastor may never witness the division that his interference causes, his involvement may negate much of the good that he did at that church – but few churchgoers have the courage to say, “Knock it off and go away.”

You might be wondering, “Is this really an issue?”

Yes … and I have the scars to prove it.

What do you think about this issue?

Imagine that you land a good job and you’re flourishing in your position.

Your supervisor tells you that you’re doing a great job.

You get along well with your co-workers.

Your clients seem pleased at how well you’re serving them.

It goes on like this for years.

And then one day, you hear a rumor that you can’t quite believe.

Your predecessor – the person who held your job before you – is telling people you know that you’re doing a terrible job.

In fact, your predecessor would like to return to your company … and replace you in the process.

This whole scheme seems far-fetched, so crazy that you refuse to believe what some people are telling you.

You choose not to dignify the rumors by even responding to them.

But one day, co-workers who had been friends for years start to turn on you.

And your supervisor turns on you.

And even some clients turn on you.

You wonder, “What is going on around here?”

And then someone who knows your predecessor tells you the truth: he/she is collaborating with people at your company to remove you so that he/she can take your place … and your clients … and your salary … and anything else he/she can grab.

Sounds crazy, right?

It IS crazy … but I know someone who had this precise scenario happen to them … in a church.

Their predecessor was the previous pastor.

Their supervisors were the church board.

Their co-workers were the church staff.

Their clients were members of the congregation.

The equation goes like this:

Predecessor + church board + a staff member + a small faction = removal of the current pastor

Ever heard of this kind of thing happening before?

I have.

I’ll tell you more about it next time.

While putting the finishing touches on the book I’m writing, I ran across this quotation from attorney Carl Lansing in his book Legal Defense Handbook for Christians in Ministry:

“The experts also indicate that very often a straightforward, genuine ‘I’m sorry’ is the key to unlocking a bitter legal debate . . . . ‘I’m sorry’ should not be seen as an apology from God.  Rather, His servants are imperfect and, on occasion, do cause harm.”

John Denver once had a song called “I’m Sorry.”  (I didn’t like it, but it hit Number One.)

Elton John sang, “Sorry Seems to be the Hardest Word.”

Chicago sang, “Hard to Say I’m Sorry.”

And the Gin Blossoms had an album, Congratulations … I’m Sorry.  (Love their sound.)

When All in the Family was the top show in the nation in the 1970s, Archie Bunker mockingly criticized anyone who he felt was wrong, but when he was wrong, he just couldn’t say … “I’m sorry.”

Why can’t we admit we’re wrong at times?

Maybe we have a certain image of ourselves that we feel we must maintain at all times.

Maybe we’re afraid that if we confess a sin, someone important will turn their backs on us.

Maybe we don’t agree with our accusers that we did or said anything wrong.

Maybe it’s just our pride.

Or maybe it’s a combination of the above.

When I was a kid, I stole a piece of candy from Food Giant.  While I was clever enough to take it, I forgot to eat it, and my mother found it in my pants pocket.

She made me go back to the store and tell somebody, “I’m sorry.”

I felt awful.

Then she taught me 1 John 1:9: “If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.”

My part?

Confess my sins.  Agree with God that I messed up.  Tell God “I’m sorry” for breaking His law.

His part?

Forgive my sins.

Since He’s just, forgiving doesn’t violate His nature.

Since He’s faithful, He’ll forgive me every time I confess.

Yet for some reason, it’s easier to confess my sins to God than to others.

And this is especially true during a church conflict.

Christian conflict expert Speed Leas describes five levels of conflict.

If God’s people can keep a conflict at levels one or two, they can often resolve matters with a simple “I’m sorry.”

But when conflict escalates to levels four and five, Christians grant themselves blanket exonerations while demonizing their opponents.

At level four, believers wish to defeat their “enemies.”

At level five, they want to destroy them.

And when matters escalate to those levels:

*believers cannot resolve matters without outside help (a consultant, a mediator, a conflict manager)

*believers are unlikely to admit their part in the conflict for a long, long time

In other words, they’re convinced that in this situation, they’re 100% right and their opponents are 100% wrong.

Really?

Let’s be honest.  We all sin and fall short of the glory of God.  That was true at conversion, and it’s still true today.

We haven’t yet entered into a sinless state.

So that means that we mess up at times.

And when we do, we need to be honest enough to tell …

*our spouse

*our kids

*our parents

*our boss

*our co-workers

*our pastor

*our leaders

“Hey, I’m sorry.  I messed up.  Will you forgive me?”

I know people who never say those two words.  It’s hard to get close to them.  They seem inhuman.

Only one person never needed to say, “I’m sorry.”

And He’s the One who longs to hear you say it to Him so He can restore you to favor.

All together now: “I’m sorry.”

That wasn’t so bad, was it?

Conflicts at Downton Abbey

Yes, I watch Downton Abbey.

And yes, I like the show.

I’m a sucker for almost anything British.  I bought a multi-region DVD player last year (they’re inexpensive) so I could order unedited shows from Amazon.co.uk (much better values) instead of buying their American counterparts.

I love Blackadder, Inspector Morse, A Touch of Frost, Midsomer Murders, Inspector Lewis (my favorite), Fawlty Towers, Spooks (the British version of 24), and yes, Mr. Bean.

And for me, the Sherlock Holmes shows starring Jeremy Brett are in a class by themselves.

So when I saw Season 1 of Downton Abbey for sale on Amazon several months ago – at a great price – I snatched it up.

The first season is a pre-World War 1 drama about a family that lives in a large English abbey.  The underlying plot line is that the family lacks a male heir to inherit their estate, which leads to all kinds of romantic and political intrigue.

The aristocrats and servants try and maintain their boundaries and spaces, but everyone gets involved in everyone else’s lives.

The second season occurs during the Great War.  My wife and I plan to finish watching Season 2 tonight on DVD.

The show has a soap opera quality to it at times, so I may lose my theology membership card if I go further … but let’s live dangerously.

And I’ll try not to reveal plot lines in case you haven’t yet seen the show … or are watching Season 2 now on PBS.

Let me make four comparisons between conflicts on Downton Abbey and conflicts in churches:

First, everybody is a mixed bag of good and evil.

At first, Robert and Cora – the Earl and Countess of Grantham – appear to be fair and flawless individuals.  But as the series moves along, their weaknesses become apparent.

Isobel, their distant relative, has a passion for helping people with medical problems, but as anxiety increases around the abbey, she becomes increasingly controlling.

Violet (played by Maggie Smith), Robert’s mother, believes that traditional ways are best.  I didn’t like her at first, but she has the best (and funniest) lines on the show.

In any church, you might think that the pastor and his wife are flawless, but the more you know them, the more you’ll realize they’re as human and hurting as you are.

And you’ll meet people you liked at first but don’t like later, as well as those you didn’t like at first but eventually come to respect.

Second, everybody has their own internal conflicts.

Mary has a complicated relationship with Matthew, his fiancee, and Sir Richard.  (I don’t understand how these things work, but hey, I’m a guy!)

Sybil is drawn to the socialistic chauffeur but knows that her family doesn’t approve.

Bates is torn between settling his past in London and courting Anna.

And poor Daisy feels pressured to make a huge decision against her own conscience.

So many church conflicts have their origins inside people.  Several years ago, when I contacted a consultant about a conflict I was having with certain leaders, he wanted to know what was going on in their lives before asking about the nature of the conflict.

Third, internal conflicts lead to interpersonal conflicts.

While Mary’s heart leans toward Matthew, her head leads toward Sir Richard … confusing both men.

Mrs. Hughes is torn between helping a servant and letting her rot … causing her to say one thing and do another.

Mrs. Patmore wants to feed the household as cheaply as possible, but when she turns to the black market … she has issues with kitchen personnel.

And Robert (the Earl of Grantham) finds himself drawn to someone new … resulting in confusion.

In church conflict, we notice problems between people because of criticism, harshness, scapegoating, and exaggeration.

But we never see people’s hearts, and they can be filled with jealousy, anger, revenge, and bitterness.

Finally, many characters hide their true feelings.

I like expressive people.  I don’t like to guess what’s going on inside someone’s mind.  For that reason, I admire characters like Violet, and the chauffeur, and Anna, and Sir Richard because they’re open and honest … even if they’re not always wise.

But many of the characters conceal their emotions, and with all the eavesdropping that goes on at Downton Abbey, they’re wise to keep secrets to themselves.

So Mary won’t tell Matthew how she really feels.  She hints, and postures, but withdraws when things start to become intimate.

Carson and Mrs. Hughes respect one another and confide in each other, but neither one feels free to admit how much they like each other.

Sybil conceals her feelings for the chauffeur for a long time.

And poor Edith is afraid to tell anyone how she feels.  (Remember what happened to Little Joe on Bonanza whenever he fell in love with someone?)

It’s my nature to bury people’s personal secrets when they confide in me.  I want people to feel there is at least one person they can trust.

But I don’t like institutional secrets.  When I was leading a church, I felt that people should know as much as they wanted to know about the way the place was run and managed.

But just like in the church, most characters on Downton Abbey can’t keep a secret.  Much of the time, when a character confides in someone, that person runs off and tells others.  (If two characters want to share confidences, why don’t they go for a walk?)  Sharing secrets always makes me cringe, but I guess it’s human nature.

If you’re been watching Downton Abbey, are there other lessons about conflict you’d like to share?