The apostle Paul prayed that “we may be delivered from unreasonable and wicked men” (2 Thessalonians 3:2).
In my pastoral ministry I have found that the “unreasonable” – those with whom you cannot reason – are usually scarier than the “wicked”. We are to be “gentle to all, in humility correcting those who are in opposition, if God perhaps will grant them repentance, so that they may know the truth.” (2 Timothy 2:24-25, cf 1 Thessalonians 5:14). But some prove themselves beyond reason (Matthew 7:6).
The ultimate horror in a horror movie derives from the realisation that the protagonist is facing a threat that cannot be reasoned with – whether that threat be an alien life form, or some fearsome beast, or a madman.
Still, somewhere up there on the scale of scary must be the unthinking adulation that comes from the mouth of blind hero-worship.
Don’t put your pastor on a pedestal
Don’t get me wrong. I, like any pastor, like to be genuinely appreciated. The Bible tells us to “to recognize those who labour among you, and are over you in the Lord and admonish you, and to esteem them very highly in love for their work’s sake.” (1 Thessalonians 5:12-13)
We should all be ready to commend another – whether pastor or not – when what the other has said or done is a help or encouragement to us.
But the danger of unthinking adulation (apart from the obvious danger of believing it and getting a swelled head) is that, one day the hero worshipper will inevitably see your flaws – and then…
Maybe something like the phone call Mark Jones, senior minister at Faith Vancouver Presbyterian Church, got the other day:
“Got a phone call from a member this morning around 7:50am. Thought it was serious. She said, ‘Your sermons lately have been awful/awesome.’ I still don’t know which word she said and the rest of the conversation didn’t really help me discern which word.”
I once knew a man (I’ll call him Julian[1]) who literally every week, after the sermon, would heap flattery upon me: “I have never heard a better sermon. You are the best preacher I have ever heard.” Then, the following week: “Ken that really was a marvellous sermon. It is the best sermon I have ever heard.” (Really? I thought last week’s was. Where did that one come short?)
Until, one day, after a couple of years of this, Julian wasn’t in church. Nor was he the next Sunday. I rang him to see if he was O.K., that he wasn’t sick or something. He obviously didn’t want to talk, but when I pressed him, to make sure he was alright, eventually he told me he would not be coming to church any more. “Oh, is something wrong?” “Well, actually Ken, I can’t stand your preaching.” At least I knew what my caller said.
One day the hero worshipper will wake up and see your faults (both real and imagined); then you can do no right and can expect to be mercilessly torn to shreds.
Your pastor is human, he makes mistakes. Don’t put him on a pedestal.
All the saints of the Old Testament, as well as those in the New that we know anything about, were flawed. There comes a time in every child’s life when it dawns upon him that the cookie-cutter pictures he had from Sunday School of Abraham, Moses, Elijah, David, Peter and Paul etc were all less than realistic; all his heroes were flawed, some (like David) deeply and tragically so.
Appreciate your pastor for the right reason: not because he is on a pedestal, and certainly not if he is lazy; but “esteem him very highly in love for his work’s sake.”
As with anyone else, some mistakes you can overlook, for “love will cover a multitude of sins” (1 Peter 4:8); while others, if more serious and don’t disqualify him altogether, should be forgiven and forgotten when he repents (Luke 17:3-4).
Pastors are people too.
And pastor, pay no attention to flattery. Heed the many warnings in Proverbs:
- “A man who flatters his neighbour spreads a net for his feet.” (Proverbs 29:5)
- “A flattering mouth works ruin.” (Proverbs 26:28)
- “Do not associate with one who flatters with his lips.” (Proverbs 20:19)
Don’t put yourself on a pedestal
And pastor, don’t put yourself on a pedestal.
The ministry is littered with ex-pastors who “setting their mind on high things became overly wise in their own opinion” (Romans 12:16).
Perhaps the most tragic example in recent times is Mark Driscoll who made clear to his campus pastors, in a meeting about branding and marketing the church: “I am the brand.” Not surprisingly, this left many casualties in its wake; or, as Mark put it: “There is a pile of dead bodies behind the Mars Hill bus, and by God’s grace, it’ll be a mountain by the time we’re done. You either get on the bus or you get run over by the bus. Those are the two options.”
But you don’t have to be this crass to have put yourself on a pedestal. Far more common is the pastor who lands in a new church to announce: “I have a vision” – and woe betide any who stand in the way of his vision.
This is not a problem if it is the Christ’s vision for the church, as set out, for example, in Ephesians 4:11-16. There the pastor-teacher’s vision is, not in terms of his own ministry, but in terms of equipping the saints for their ministry. His and their goal in this is to grow in maturity as measured by that found in Christ.
But sadly, the “vision” of a new pastor can too easily become about him: a bigger church and more members faster, to enhance his reputation of success. “Faster, Higher, Stronger” may be an Olympic goal but it is not a Christ-centred, Ephesians 4 type, goal.
I have written before how, when you join a church – whether as a new pastor or new member – it is a bit like marriage.
You don’t marry someone to change them. Of course, you will change the other; and they will change you – hopefully for the better in both directions. But don’t marry to change.
Whether marrying, or joining a church, do so because:
- You love who they are
- You love being with them
- You would love to share their earthly pilgrimage…
And where there is need for change, do it together.
Sometimes Eileen and I see a better way of doing things in our marriage.
But, let me emphasise that: it is Eileen and I. Though I am the head of the marriage, I don’t say, “O.K. Eileen, I’m the head – this is what we are going to do now, whether you like it or not.” (Or, at least, I don’t do it as much as I used to.)
Where we need to change direction, we work it out together.
For the same reason I think it is really important that, where a church wants to change how they do things, the whole church is on board.
The church is a body; the church is to act in unison. Change has to be a “whole body” thing (Ephesians 4:16).
Recently Tim Challies made some useful observations in this area. He says:
Having considered churches I have been part of through the years, having observed many pastors locally and at a distance, and having gazed into the sometimes ugly depths of my own heart, I’d like to offer three ways in which pastors may be tempted to sin against the people they are called to serve. We might consider these “respectable sins,” to borrow Jerry Bridges’ term—sins we can easily dress up as virtues.
I’ll leave you to follow up all he says concerning the three “respectable sins” he focuses our attention on. Let me just draw the first to your attention:
Pastor, you may be tempted to use your congregants as raw material for enacting your dreams or pursuing your passions.
As a pastor, you are called to lead your church and this often involves casting vision and setting direction. We like and need visionary leaders!
Yet you must be wary of the temptation to cast a vision that reflects your desires more than God’s or that leads in a direction that massages your ego more than it serves God’s purpose. If you are not wary, you may put your parishioners to work at fulfilling your mission rather than God’s.
When this happens, the church members may think they are serving the cause of the Lord when really they are serving the cause of their pastor. Hence, you must carefully separate your personal passion projects from what matters to God or those objectives that make you feel successful from those that make God look great.
In the world of business, it may be appropriate for a founder or leader to call employees to rally around his vision or to serve his mission. But not so within the church, for the church already has a founder and it already has a mission.
The members of the church are to be loved, valued, and cared for and then tenderly and patiently directed to serve in ways that foster God’s purposes. A church is not a collection of willing workers called to serve your cause, but precious children of God called to be devoted to his.
Your mission must fit within God’s mission and your vision of success be consistent with God’s vision of success.
The Pedestal to Collapse
Recently I was reading through the book of Joshua. It begins, where Deuteronomy ends, with the death of Moses: “Moses My servant is dead.” (Joshua 1:2).
Yet, that is not the end for God’s people; just a new beginning. The death of God’s servant is not the end of God’s people because it is not the death of God’s promise. (Joshua 1:2-8)
The departure of a church leader should not mean the death of a church, because it is not the death of Christ’s promise: “I will build My church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.” (Matthew 16:18)
As important as good and God-given leaders are, they are not the church, they are not the brand. Christ is the brand, He will build His church.
God’s promise is not tied to a person.
Sometimes I hear of a church where the leaders have all departed, or were too old to continue, or died, and those left behind were told the church must now close!
While there may sometimes be valid reasons to close, yet to shut down a church simply because the current leaders choose to depart means they are seen, or see themselves, on a pedestal that ignores the Bible’s teaching that a church is built up in living stones of the ministry of every member (Ephesians 4:12-16, 1 Peter 2:5).
This is not good.
Pastor, if you have put yourself on a pedestal, please get off it.
Memento homo. “Remember you are a man”.
You are people too.
[1] Not his real name