I ran into a little incident outside my bank yesterday that illustrates why some Christians create conflict in their churches.
My wife and I are buying a house, and while it’s a joyful time in some respects, it’s also very stressful.
Suddenly, we have to meet other people’s deadlines: producing bank statements … scanning documents … signing disclosures … scheduling an inspection … paying for an assessment … and figuring out how to turn brown dirt in the front and back yards into something attractive yet low-maintenance.
Yesterday, after several days of waiting, I finally received the go-ahead I needed to complete a financial transaction involving the house. I promised someone I would send her the money by a certain time in the late afternoon, and I drove to the bank to finish the task with a few minutes to spare.
Only when I got to the bank, the teller … whom I have never met … told me in a “you’re stupid” tone that the deadline for completing the transaction had passed several hours before, and that I would have to come back this morning instead.
I felt the stress level rise quickly inside me.
As calmly as I could, I went to my car … called the woman who expected the funds … apologized to her for not sending them … backed up slowly … and began driving out of the parking lot.
As you leave the bank, there’s a lane on the right just past the building where cars can appear out of nowhere. I always approach that small intersection cautiously.
And it’s a good thing I did, because a lady (I use that term loosely) came flying around the corner and nearly hit my car.
I froze … and then got out of my vehicle.
The driver pulled into a space in front of the bank, saw me, pointed right at me, and yelled, “MOVE ON!”
I loudly said, “You almost hit me!”
Then she used a creative combination of vulgar terms and yelled again, “MOVE ON!”
I wanted to move on, but I had to make my point, and I was so upset that the words weren’t coming.
Finally, I blurted out, “When you’re driving through a parking lot, SLOW DOWN!”
She used the creative combination again, and then threatened to call the police on me. I told her, “Go ahead. I’ll tell them what a bad driver you are.”
I got back in my car and drove away, not feeling real good about the encounter I had just experienced.
As I drove toward home, I thought to myself, “That person (she wasn’t a lady) was driving recklessly, and she’s probably had similar near-misses before … and she’s trained herself to act like a bully when she violates other people’s rights.”
Okay, that bit of psychoanalysis made me feel a tiny bit better.
But then I reflected on my own behavior, and I asked myself, “Why did I feel it necessary to confront that bully in the parking lot? Why didn’t I just move on?”
Most of the time, I do. In fact, I’ve trained myself to let most things go on the road. It’s just not worth it.
But I know why I did it: right now, I am on emotional overload … my stress level is super high … and I lack a measure of self-control.
Now let’s think about some Christians in your church.
Let’s take Frank. Frank is in his mid-60s. In the past four months, he has undergone the following experiences:
*He’s been outsized at work and realizes his career is probably over.
*His work problems drove up his blood pressure so he’s now taking medication for that … and the medication has some strong side effects.
*Frank’s wife has recently been having memory problems, and Frank is worried that she might have … you know.
*One of Frank’s daughters recently separated from her husband, and she’s been coming over a lot more … sometimes staying the night.
So when Frank comes to church on Sunday mornings, he longs for an encounter with God. He comes with a spirit in turmoil. He hopes to depart with a spirit of peace.
But what happens instead?
*The music is pounding and seems louder than ever before.
*The announcements drag on and on … and several events are coming that Frank would like to attend, but he doesn’t have the money.
*The pastor’s message contains references to current movies that Frank would never see because he believes they’re immoral … but the pastor seems to love them.
*After the service, Frank hears that two of his best friends have left the church because they don’t like the music or the pastor’s preaching.
And Frank suddenly feels very much alone … in his own congregation.
Frank came to church highly anxious, hoping that God and His people would calm him down … but just the opposite happened.
And right now, Frank can’t handle his emotions. He needs to talk to somebody about how he’s feeling.
He’d like to talk with the pastor, but he hasn’t been there long. Frank doesn’t know him very well, and he’s afraid he’ll blow his top and end up a sermon illustration someday.
He’d like to express his displeasure to the music director, but doesn’t think it would do any good.
He’d like to talk to his wife, but she’s struggling to remember anybody’s names right now.
So when Frank gets home from church, he calls his friends who just left the church.
His friends rattle off a list of complaints … mainly about the pastor … and then Frank shares his grievances with them.
And before anyone knows it, a campaign to force out the pastor has begun.
Because this is where division begins in a church: when people begin to pool their complaints with one another rather than speaking directly with the person they’re upset with.
I’ve never tried to get rid of a pastor before, and I wouldn’t want to be a part of any campaign that had that as its goal. I’d leave the church before I tried to push anyone out.
Yes, like the woman in the bank parking lot, some professing Christians are bullies. They want to run the church their way … or else … and they will use threats and demands (they work well in churches that pride themselves on how loving they are) to intimidate the pastor.
But many churchgoers who end up causing trouble aren’t bullies … or even immature believers … but are ordinary believers who have been undergoing extraordinary stress in their lives.
They bring that stress with them to church, and if something at church adds to their anxiety, they start complaining … usually the first indicator that conflict is about to erupt.
Rather than dealing directly with their behavior, the pastor and/or key leaders might ask such people about their personal, family, and work lives instead:
*How is your husband or wife doing right now?
*How are your children doing?
*How are things at work? How does that affect your career?
*How are you doing spiritually right now? Emotionally? Financially?
*How can we pray for you specifically?
*How can our church family assist you right now?
Many believers who end up creating havoc come to church highly stressed … become even more anxious when church doesn’t alleviate their anxiety … and finally decide to eliminate the source of their “church anxiety” … their pastor.
I don’t excuse it.
I do understand it.
And maybe … just maybe … understanding such anxiety can help church leaders address the concerns of “the anxious among them” in a more caring and compassionate manner.
What Should Pastors Do About Church Cranks?
Posted in Conflict with Church Antagonists, Conflict with the Pastor, Pastoral Termination, Personal Stories, Please Comment!, tagged church antagonists, church cranks, confronting church leaders, confronting church members, difficult church members on November 9, 2018| 1 Comment »
The first time I interviewed to become the pastor of a church, I met a church crank.
He remained a thorn in my side for years. Know anyone like that?
The deacons of a small church in Sunnyvale, California, received and reviewed my resume, and one Sunday night, the chairman called and asked me if I could preach at their church the following Sunday.
I said yes.
So my wife and I flew to San Jose and were picked up by the chairman, who drove us to the elementary school where the church met.
Inside a brown classroom, I met four deacons … all of them at least sixty years of age. The chairman was 74. The others were all over 60.
And I was just 27.
A deacon I’ll call Warren stood out because of his booming voice and his burly appearance … and as I would soon find out, he had quite a temper.
The sermon went well the following day … the people loved us … I preached a candidating sermon the following Sunday … and the church voted to issue me a call, which I accepted.
Little did I know it, but over the next few years, I would have many off balance encounters with Warren, even though his wife … twenty years his junior … was a delightful person.
For years, Warren had been a pastor in a small coastal town in Northern California. He once told me that tapes of his sermons were circulating around the world.
But Warren wasn’t in church ministry anymore because he had been divorced. I never learned the circumstances.
Every Sunday morning at our church, Warren made announcements before everyone went to Sunday School. But one Sunday, Warren acted and spoke bizarrely … and I noticed his wife wasn’t with him.
When I got home from church, I called her … and she told me she was divorcing Warren … and shared with me some startling information.
When it became evident that Warren’s wife was serious about divorcing him, I couldn’t let him remain a deacon. While I didn’t know why his first marriage had fallen apart, his second marriage was crumbling right before our eyes.
I spoke with the other deacons, and they reluctantly agreed with me: Warren had to step down from the board.
That was one of the hardest meetings of my life. Warren was more than twice my age. He had been a pastor for years. And now I had to go to his house and tell him that he needed to step down from the board where he served with his friends.
To his credit, Warren seemed to understand.
But six months later, his deacon friends lobbied for me to reinstate him, telling me that he had “suffered enough.”
Although I didn’t want to, I reluctantly permitted Warren to return as a deacon … and lived to regret it.
Over the next few years, Warren did the following things:
*One Wednesday night, I taught on the resurrection of Jesus, and stated that it couldn’t be proven scientifically, which is true. Warren stood up and yelled loudly, “Then we’re all wasting our time here!” And he opened a heavy classroom door and slammed it … hard … and then left the school. We all sat there in shock. When we spoke later, he confessed that I was too good a theologian to make a reckless statement.
*Another time, I was reading a book on discipleship by British theologian David Watson, and included a quote from the book in a newsletter article. Warren called me at home and lit into me about my use of that quote. I had to calm him down before explaining what I meant.
*When our church rewrote our doctrinal statement, I included a section about the death and resurrection of Christ. Warren angrily confronted me after a service because I had left out Christ’s burial! (I left out the appearances as well … but only for brevity.)
*One Sunday night, our church held a business meeting, and Warren thought a certain woman had just criticized him publicly. He stood up and yelled at the entire congregation when he was really upset with her. Later that week, I had to tell him that if he didn’t apologize to the entire congregation the following Sunday night, he couldn’t be on the board anymore. He apologized … sort of.
*The former deacon chairman was also the song leader on Sunday mornings and evenings. He became angry with me over a petty issue and asked to come to a board meeting to complain about me. He brought along a witness: Warren. (The next day, the song leader left the church, but Warren stayed.)
*Although Warren eventually stopped being a board member, he did teach a Sunday School class for seniors. One Sunday morning, I was sitting in the church office and could hear Warren teaching through the wall. He was ripping things our church was doing … things I had full board approval to do … but Warren didn’t like them, and let his fellow seniors know what he really thought.
*Before I knew it, that seniors class began making demands … and their primary demand was that I should no longer be the pastor. The board at that time all stood behind me, and the seniors left the church and started a new church in a school a mile away … with Warren as their pastor. (He wasn’t their pastor for long, and the church disbanded within a year.)
But what Warren really wanted to do was return to some form of paid ministry, either as a pastor or a missionary. He applied to many Christian organizations, but they all turned him down. He married for the third time, but those two divorces, which he had to disclose on any application, killed his chances for employment.
Since he was out of options in the larger Christian community, I wonder if he wanted to take me out … hoping that somehow, people would turn to him as pastor.
Warren wasn’t necessarily a church bully, but he was a church crank.
And church cranks have the following characteristics, among others:
*They become known for their incessant, uncontrollable complaining.
*They become irritated over issues that don’t bother anyone else.
*They view themselves as leaders while few others do. (Who wants to follow a crank? You’ll just have more crankiness.)
*They have no idea how they sound or look to others.
*They make people anxious and even afraid.
*They sometimes make complaints that become contagious.
*They don’t intend to undermine their pastor but end up harming him anyway.
*They apologize enough to maintain their standing in the church.
Without doubt, Warren was a church crank.
What should pastors do with church cranks?
Let me share four ideas:
First, pastors should let cranks know how to register complaints.
Charles Spurgeon used to tell the cranks in his church to write down their complaints so he could better deal with them. Of course, nobody wanted to do that!
Over the years, I devised a simple policy about complaints:
*If your complaint is about the pastor personally, then speak to him personally before you do anything else.
*If your complaint involves church policy, then speak to anyone who makes policy … usually members of the official board.
A pastor can’t command cranks not to complain, but pastors can insist that a crank’s complaints be directed to the right person.
And if the crank won’t follow the complaint policy, then he or she must be confronted and disciplined … or the crank may someday try and take out the pastor.
Second, pastors should encourage mature churchgoers to confront cranks about their behavior.
When I was in my late twenties, I was correcting a church leader twice my age … and it wasn’t easy or natural for me.
I needed church leaders and Warren’s friends to sit down and speak with him about his behavior … but either they were too afraid of him or they were afraid a confrontation might end their friendship with him.
So it fell to me as the pastor by default.
My father-in-law told me many times, “Jim, if there is any confrontation that needs to happen in your church, you’re going to have to do it. Laymen won’t confront laymen.”
But they might … if their pastor asked them to do so.
When an older man keeps making a fool of himself inside his congregation, it may be because nobody had the courage to confront him earlier in his life.
But by the time a crank is in his sixties, how much he is really going to change?
Third, pastors need to watch their backs when cranks are around.
Because Warren usually came to me personally whenever he was upset about something, I never suspected that he would go underground and try to take me out as pastor.
But in the end, that’s exactly what he did.
Pastors can give cranks some attention, but you can’t give them too much because they’ll just want more … and because they’ll drain a pastor of energy.
Since a pastor can’t be omnipresent on a church campus, I should have asked a board member to monitor Warren’s behavior on Sundays.
We could have confronted him proactively from a position of strength rather than defending ourselves against him from a position of weakness.
Finally, church cranks usually leave a mixed legacy.
For some reason, I’ve been thinking about Warren recently, but while I can easily remember tough encounters with him, I can only recall a couple of times where we really got along.
I tried spending time with Warren. One time, I visited the elementary school classroom where he served as teacher. Another time, we drove to Mount Hermon together for a men’s retreat.
But I never knew when he would explode for no reason at all.
When Warren died, I was not asked to conduct his funeral, and I’m glad I wasn’t asked. I don’t know what I would have said!
Maybe he said some encouraging words to me at times. Maybe he told me that he was praying for me. Maybe he told me, “That was a great sermon” after I preached. Maybe he put his arm around me and said, “Jim, I’m so glad you’re our pastor.”
Maybe he did all those things … and more.
It’s just that I don’t have any recollection that he ever did.
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