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Posts Tagged ‘pastors and pain’

This is my 500th blog article, and for the past few months, I’ve been thinking and praying about how I should mark this milestone.

After much reflection, I’ve decided to distill some of the things I’ve learned about pastoral termination that I haven’t written about before.

After earning a doctorate in church conflict … after writing a book called Church Coup … after providing counsel for scores of pastors and board members … and after writing all those blogs …  let me share with you five hidden realities surrounding pastoral termination today:

First, evangelical Christian churches rarely treat a pastor under fire justly.

When a faction inside a congregation attacks their pastor, they don’t consider treating him fairly … they just want him to meet their demands or resign.

When a staff member sabotages his pastor – personally or professionally – he’s not concerned about justice … he just wants to avoid doing what the pastor wants.

When a governing board prematurely forces their pastor to resign, they will avoid Scripture … ignore their governing documents … and later declare that everything they did was justified.

The standard seems to be “how we feel about the pastor” or “let’s make sure the pastor gets what he deserves” rather than anything related to Scripture or even love.

When a pastor is under fire inside his own church, all the rules tend to get tossed aside.

There should be a rulebook for treating a pastor under attack fairly … but most of the time, there isn’t.

I’ve written nearly 100 pages of such a rulebook, but haven’t been able to finish it.  If you think it’s important, please pray that the Lord will help me to get it done.

Ironically, mainline churches – which tend to be theologically liberal – treat their pastors much more fairly than evangelical churches … which claim to believe and practice divine truth.

By the way, I shouldn’t have to say this, but the goal of discipline/correction in the New Testament isn’t revenge, but restoration (Matthew 18:15-16; Galatians 6:1).  My guess it that at least 80% of the time, the restoration of a “wayward” pastor isn’t even considered by the governing board.

They just want him gone … and will use any weapon in their arsenal to accomplish their goal.

We can do better than this … much better.

Second, pastors who have been attacked in the past have a limited pain threshold.

A friend of mine called me several weeks ago and asked if I would be interested in becoming an interim pastor at a church not far from my home.

I didn’t have to think about it or even pray about it … my answer was a swift “No.”

I know some older pastors who have suffered through an unjust termination, and they love ministry so much that they are open to an interim position.

But I’m not … and maybe it goes back to something I learned from Jay Carty.

Jay Carty played basketball for the Los Angeles Lakers during the 1968-1969 season.  Lakers’ announcer Chick Hearn once nicknamed Carty “Golden Wheels” because he was so slow on the court.

Carty became a popular Christian speaker.  I once sat next to him at a pastors’ meeting (I told him I still had his autograph from that 68-69 season) and he told me this story:

He said that if you put a fly in a jar, the fly will try to fly out by hitting the lid of the jar once.  The fly will try again a second time, but after that, the fly will give up because it doesn’t want to go experience any more pain.

I’m unsure whether that’s how flies really act, but when it comes to church ministry, there’s definitely some truth there.

Back in the mid-1980s, I survived two separate attempts to get rid of me as pastor in the same church.  Both times, my antagonists left instead of me, but I was bruised and bloodied emotionally for months.

Somehow, God enabled me to lead the rebirth of that congregation (I contributed a chapter to Gary McIntosh’s book Make Room For the Boom … or Bust detailing what happened) but it about killed me.  A nationally-known church consultant told me, “It’s a wonder you’re still standing.”

Even though I was exhausted, a pastor friend told me, “I think you have one more church left in you.”

So I became the pastor of a congregation that seemed healthy.  Attendance and giving nearly doubled during my tenure … we built a new worship center … and we became the largest Protestant church in our city … but church leaders eventually turned on me, and even though I chose to resign, some people were pushing me toward the door … hard.

Even when you’re successful as a pastor, there’s a limit as to how much pain you can take before you reluctantly admit, “I can’t do this anymore.”

Three attacks and you’re out.

Third, the Christian community observes a “winner take all” mentality when it comes to pastoral termination.

When a pastor presides over a growing congregation, he will make enemies … on the staff, on the board, among key leaders … and if they pool their complaints, the pastor’s tenure may end swiftly and harshly.

I’m thinking of a megachurch pastor … one of the best Bible teachers I’ve ever heard … who was forced to resign because he tried to make changes to the worship service.  He received approvals through all the proper channels except he didn’t consult the people with old money … who no longer held official positions … and they made his life a living hell until he quit.

In the Christian community, pastors like that gifted megachurch minister are labeled “losers” if they’re forced out even when they have done nothing wrong.

I have a pastor friend who reads this blog who told me that for years, whenever he heard about a pastor who experienced an involuntary exit, my friend would think to himself, “What a loser.”

After it happened to him, he found himself singing a different tune.

However, the pastor who is pushed out of a church is a “loser” in one respect: he loses most of his church friends … his reputation … his income … his position … his house (sometimes) … his career (often) … and occasionally, even his wife … and all those losses together brand him in many people’s eyes as someone to be shunned and abandoned.

Yet it doesn’t matter if the pastor’s antagonists harassed him … lied about him … or misrepresented him … if he’s forced out, he’s the loser … and by default, those who successfully removed him are crowned the winners.

And in the words of the pop group Abba, “The Winner Takes it All.”

In the Christian world, people don’t care about the details of a pastor’s ouster … they only care about outcomes.

There’s only one problem with this shallow thinking:

By this reckoning, Jesus was a loser, too … as were His apostles.

Even though I was pushed out of my last ministry, I have never viewed myself as a “loser,” but I know that some do, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

Except to say that the values of the evangelical community are often more tied to worldly success than biblical faithfulness.

Fourth, those who force out an innocent pastor should be exposed and asked to repent.

Here’s something I will never understand:

If a pastor starts bullying and manipulating people in his church, shouldn’t he be confronted and asked to repent?

Of course … and if he refuses to repent, he’s subject to being removed from office.

By the same token, if a group in a church … even if they’re the governing board … start bullying and manipulating the pastor behind-the-scenes, shouldn’t they be confronted and asked to repent as well?

Yes, they should … but if they’re successful in getting rid of their pastor, nobody will ever ask them to repent.

The governing board won’t.  The staff won’t.  The congregation won’t.  The district won’t.

Even if they know the facts, no single party will approach the pastor’s detractors because the pastor lost and his opponents won.

And in the evangelical world, that’s the end of the matter.  (Remember, according to 1 Corinthians 6:1-8, we’re not supposed to sue one another.)

In fact, if a church is denominational, the district minister will often spin the pastor’s departure and make him look bad … and make those who pushed out the pastor look good … even if the latter group acted wickedly.

I’ve seen this scenario played out scores of times over the years.

This kind of cover up … slander … and lying has nothing to do with biblical righteousness … and everything to do with crass politics.

District ministers in evangelical denominations (many of which are congregational in nature) like to say, “Oh, we can’t intervene in disputes in a local church.  We respect the autonomy of the local church.”

But that bromide is a lie.

Because district ministers do interfere in the lives of local churches (almost always behind closed doors) … and I can tell you story after story where that’s exactly what happened … including my own case.

I have learned over time that 90% of all district ministers handle church conflicts in a political way … not a spiritual way … because they aren’t interested in truth or righteousness … they’re interested in keeping donations flowing from the church to the district office to pay their salary.

And if they side with the pastor … or even hint he’s right and the board is wrong … he’s afraid the church will cut off those funds.

So he either remains silent or aligns himself with the church board … and nobody is asked to even consider their part in their pastor’s departure.

Because after the pastor is gone, the whole conflict can be blamed on him.

Finally, pastors get into trouble when they forget they are persons first, pastors second.

Nine months before I left my last ministry position, I was struggling with whether I could be a pastor anymore.

Instead of being a pastor, I longed to be just a person.

I didn’t want to be Pastor Jim … just Jim.

I would come home from a day at the church office … park my car in the garage … rush inside to eat dinner … and rush back to church for a meeting.

But I didn’t want to go to the meeting … I just wanted to stay home.

I began avoiding tasks I didn’t want to do … and avoiding people I didn’t want to see … and trying to figure out what was wrong with me.

Part of me wanted to tell the church board how I was feeling.  I knew I needed some time away to recover, but when I looked at the composition of the board, I decided I couldn’t risk telling them anything.

That particular group would not have understood.

I reasoned, “If I tell them how I am feeling … because they don’t seem to care for me as a person … they will probably fire me outright or force me to quit.”

And I couldn’t take the chance.

So I decided to tough it out and hope that I’d improve over time … and at times, I behaved uncharacteristically.

People like it when their pastor’s behavior is predictable.  When the pastor becomes unpredictable, some will clamor for him to leave.

I finally went to see a Christian counselor, who diagnosed me with a severe case of burnout … and said I was headed for a breakdown.

Thank God, I didn’t break down … not even when the conflict surfaced two months later … but I came awfully close.

I don’t blame the church board for my condition because I never told them about it … but I do blame them for not saying to me, “Hey, Jim, you don’t seem like yourself.  Are you okay?  Is something wrong?  Can we pray for you?”

There is no doubt that my burnout was the result of being overcommitted to my ministry.  I cared too much … and maybe that was my undoing, but I needed somebody to say, “Hey, it’s okay to back off … we’ll help carry the load.”

I wore the “pastor” hat too often … and longed to be just “Jim” … a normal, anonymous person … instead.

I finally got my wish.

_______________

This is my 500th blog article.  I started writing … with trepidation … in December 2010.

I wasn’t sure if anyone would find … much less read … anything that I wrote.  And because my son warned me that I would attract critics, I braced myself for mean-spirited comments that never came.

Some blog articles have done very well.  Some died the day I wrote them.  In the early days, I wrote three in five days.  Now I only have time for one per week.

From the beginning, my primary passion has been the relationship between pastors and their antagonists in a local church … especially those who pursue the pastor’s termination.

If you’re a subscriber, or an occasional reader, thank you so much for reading what I write.

I try to tell the truth with grace.

When you think about it, let me know if what I write is helpful.

Thanks!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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I recently read an article about a Christian leader that broke my heart … and I can’t get it out of my mind.

This leader was a long-time executive director of a major Christian organization.  He committed suicide as police were investigating a serious charge against him.

I’ve admired the work that his organization has done for a long time.  My prayer is that this tragedy doesn’t affect the crucial work they’re doing all over the world.

While reading this article, I thought about the many Christian leaders that I’ve known or respected who were discovered to be all too human and fallible.

Professors at Christian schools.  Missionaries.  Prominent pastors.  Christian vocalists and musicians.  Parachurch leaders.  Evangelists.  Associate pastors.  Televangelists.

Some preached against divorce … and eventually went through their own divorce.

Others railed against adultery … only to be seduced themselves.

Some preached a prosperity gospel … and later lost everything.

And some have behaved in ways that we … and even they … cannot fathom.

Back in the late 1980s, when there was a rash of scandals involving Christian leaders, we were told that leaders needed to demonstrate greater accountability, and that this single step would halt most of the scandals.

Maybe so … but I have a different take on this.

I believe there is a direct correlation between doing ministry and personal pain.

The more committed you are to ministering to others, the more pain you will experience in your own life.

If you doubt me, read 2 Corinthians.   In 1 Corinthians, Paul tries to address various issues at Corinth and restrains himself when it comes to expressing his own emotions.

But in 2 Corinthians, Paul lets it all hang out, and at times it’s difficult to read.  Just a few examples:

1:8: “We were under great pressure, far beyond our ability to endure, so that we despaired even of life.”

2:4: “For I wrote you out of great distress and anguish of heart and with many tears, not to grieve you but to let you know the depth of my love for you.”

4:8-9: “We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed.”

7:5: “For when we came to Macedonia, this body of ours had no rest, but we were harassed at every turn – conflicts on the outside, fears within.”

11:23-25: “I have worked much harder, been in prison more frequently, been flogged more severely, and been exposed to death again and again.  Five times I received frm the Jews the forty lashes minus one.  Three times I was beaten with rods, once I was stoned, three times I was shipwrecked, I spent a night and a day in the open sea.”

And then there’s this one:

11:28-29: “Besides everything else, I face daily the pressure of my concern for all the churches.  Who is weak, and I do not feel weak?  Who is led into sin, and I do not inwardly burn?”

Notice that?  Besides all the physical pain that Paul endured for Christ, he also felt emotional and spiritual pain because he cared so much for others.

When I entered church ministry, I was told in general terms that I would suffer.  I plowed ahead anyway.

What I wasn’t told … and most of us aren’t … is that there are times when the pain becomes so great that it becomes unbearable.  After a while, the hurts of others gets to you, and you don’t know what to do with all that pain.

Some Christian leaders secretly turn to alcohol and drugs … some to illicit sex … some to overspending … and some become depressed.

When you’re expected to be “on fire” for the Lord all the time … and experiencing victory after victory … it’s hard to admit to anyone … much less yourself … that you’re hurting.

You’d like to lean on your wife, but she has her own pain to deal with, and she’s already tired of hearing about yours.

You’d like to talk with a counselor, but you don’t know who to trust, and you suspect that counseling will uncover more of your own buried pain.

You’d like to tell your board, but you’re afraid they’ll condemn you or fire you, so you stay silent.

You want to tell somebody about your pain, but you can’t find anyone who’s safe enough to trust.

And so you stuff it … and the pain starts turning into anxiety, anger, and depression.

And when you finally do something stupid … or take your own life … people wonder why you didn’t reach out for help.

Maybe you should have reached out … or maybe you just didn’t know where to go for help.

I’ve visited a lot of churches over the past 4 1/2 years … probably 50-60.

And in the course of listening to many preachers, I’ve come to this conclusion: I wouldn’t dare share a personal problem with most of them.  Know why?

Because they don’t dare share their humanity with us.

When I hear a pastor tell a story on himself … or admit that he struggles with certain issues … or needs the gospel just as much as I do, I’m drawn to him.  I feel safe with him.

But when I don’t hear any humanity coming from the pulpit … when the pastor says “you” and not “we” … when he yells and condemns and intimates, “I have it all together” – I don’t feel safe … and I’m sure I’m not alone.

The ethos of much of the Christian world seems to be, “Even though you aren’t perfect, you better act like you are, so you can keep your job and your reputation.”

But Christian leaders aren’t perfect.  Every one is messed up in some way.  They all have their issues, wounds, and struggles … just like you do … and just like Paul did.

One of America’s greatest pastors has always been transparent about what God is doing in his life.  I once heard him tell a group of pastors that he was in therapy for some “junk from his past” and that he and his wife were in marriage counseling for some issues they were struggling with.

When asked how he could be so open about his life, this pastor said, “It takes too much energy to hide who you are.”

Those revelations might deflate many Christians, but they were liberating for me.  My attitude was, “If God can use him with all his problems, then God can use me as well.”

And I operated by this corollary: if that pastor can share his issues in appropriate ways to appropriate groups, then maybe I can do the same thing.

Which is the more inspiring statement?

“Christians have no right to be depressed, and I have never been depressed because I know Jesus.”

Or …

“I have been depressed in my life, but by God’s grace … and with the help of other Christians … He has brought me through depression and made me stronger.”

Personally, I resonate with the second statement because it’s true of me.  28 years ago, I was severely depressed to the point I wasn’t operating normally.

My wife found a qualified Christian counselor and I saw him for four months.  After our time together, I never became that low again … and I’ve been through some pretty horrendous times in life and in ministry.

Because I want the painful times in my life to be redemptive, I’ve openly shared my long-ago struggle with depression both while preaching and in writing.  (Did you know that 48 of the Psalms … roughly 1/3 … deal with depression?  Maybe God is a lot more open about it than we are.)

But I do know this: we’re all weak and vulnerable at times.  Because of the pain in our lives, we’re all tempted to do stupid stuff.

And all of us – including Christian leaders – need safe people we can talk with and safe places we can go if we’re to experience healing and continue in ministry.

In 2 Corinthians 12:9, Paul quoted Jesus as saying that His “power is made perfect in weakness.”

Not in strength … in weakness.

Act like you’re strong all the time, and you may eventually succumb to weakness.

Admit that you’re weak, and just might be on the road to becoming strong.

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Two days ago, I read an article about a Christian leader that broke my heart … and I can’t get it out of my mind.

Tom White, long-time executive director of Voice of the Martyrs, committed suicide several weeks ago as police were investigating a molestation charge against him.  You can read the story here:

http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2012/aprilweb-only/tom-white-accusations.html

I’ve admired the work that VOM has done for a long time.  My prayer is that this tragedy doesn’t affect the crucial work they’re doing in calling attention to persecuted believers all over the world … and that God will grant Tom White’s family and his VOM colleagues His peace.

While reading this article, I thought about the many Christian leaders that I’ve known or respected who were discovered to be all too human and fallible.

Professors at Christian schools.  Missionaries.  Prominent pastors.  Christian vocalists and musicians.  Parachurch leaders.  Evangelists.  Associate pastors.  Televangelists.

Some preached against divorce … and eventually went through their own divorce.

Others railed against adultery … only to be seduced themselves.

Some preached a prosperity gospel … and later lost everything.

And some have behaved in ways that we … and even they … cannot fathom.

Back in the late 1980s, when there was a rash of scandals involving Christian leaders, we were told that leaders needed to demonstrate greater accountability, and that this single step would halt most of the scandals.

Maybe so … but I have a different take on this.

I believe there is a direct correlation between doing ministry and personal pain.

The more committed you are to ministering to others, the more pain you will experience in your own life.

If you doubt me, read 2 Corinthians.   In 1 Corinthians, Paul tries to address various issues at Corinth and restrains himself when it comes to expressing his own emotions.

But in 2 Corinthians, Paul lets it all hang out, and at times it’s difficult to read.  Just a few examples:

1:8: “We were under great pressure, far beyond our ability to endure, so that we despaired even of life.”

2:4: “For I wrote you out of great distress and anguish of heart and with many tears, not to grieve you but to let you know the depth of my love for you.”

4:8-9: “We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed.”

7:5: “For when we came to Macedonia, this body of ours had no rest, but we were harassed at every turn – conflicts on the outside, fears within.”

11:23-25: “I have worked much harder, been in prison more frequently, been flogged more severely, and been exposed to death again and again.  Five times I received frm the Jews the forty lashes minus one.  Three times I was beaten with rods, once I was stoned, three times I was shipwrecked, I spent a night and a day in the open sea.”

And then there’s this one:

11:28-29: “Besides everything else, I face daily the pressure of my concern for all the churches.  Who is weak, and I do not feel weak?  Who is led into sin, and I do not inwardly burn?”

Notice that?  Besides all the physical pain that Paul endured for Christ, he also felt emotional and spiritual pain because he cared so much for others.

When I entered church ministry, I was told in general terms that I would suffer.  I plowed ahead anyway.

What I wasn’t told … and most of us aren’t … is that there are times when the pain becomes so great that you have to pull back.

If there were more rejoicers than weepers … or just as many … the ministry would be more bearable.

But most of the time, there are far more weepers than rejoicers … and after a while, the hurts of others gets to you, and you don’t know what to do with all that pain.

You’d like to lean on your wife, but she has her own pain to deal with, and she’s already tired of hearing about yours.

You’d like to talk with a counselor, but you don’t know who to trust, and you suspect that counseling will uncover more of your own buried pain.

You’d like to tell your board, but you’re afraid they’ll condemn you or fire you, so you stay silent.

You want to tell somebody about your pain, but you can’t find anyone who’s safe enough to trust.

And so you stuff it … and the pain starts turning into anxiety, anger, and depression.

And when you finally do something stupid … or take your own life … people wonder why you didn’t reach out for help.

Maybe you should have reached out … or maybe you just didn’t know where to go for help.

I’ve visited a lot of churches over the past 2 1/2 years – probably at least 40.

And in the course of listening to many preachers, I’ve come to this conclusion: I wouldn’t dare share a personal problem with most of them.  Know why?

Because they don’t dare share their humanity with us.

When I hear a pastor tell a story on himself … or admit that he struggles with certain issues … or needs the gospel just as much as I do, I’m drawn to him.  I feel safe with him.

But when I don’t hear any humanity coming from the pulpit … when the pastor says “you” and not “we” … when he yells and condemns and intimates, “I have it all together” – I don’t feel safe … and I’m sure I’m not alone.

The ethos of much of the Christian world seems to be, “Even though you aren’t perfect, you better act like you are, so you can keep your job and your reputation.”

But Christian leaders aren’t perfect.  Every one is messed up in some way.  They all have their issues, wounds, and struggles … just like you do … and just like Paul did.

I don’t know whether Tom White did anything wrong or not.  We may never know.

But I do know this: we’re all weak and vulnerable at times.  Because of the pain in our lives, we’re all tempted to do stupid stuff.

And all of us – including Christian leaders – need safe people we can talk with and safe places we can go so that we can experience healing and continue in ministry.

In 2 Corinthians 12:9, Paul quoted Jesus as saying that His “power is made perfect in weakness.”

Not in strength … in weakness.

Act like you’re strong all the time, and you’ll eventually succumb to weakness.

Admit that you’re weak, and you’ll become strong.

Your thoughts?

I’ll write more on this topic another time.

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