“So what I want to know is, why do you still have a church and I don’t? What’s wrong with me?”

It’s a Thursday afternoon at Starbucks and I’m sitting with a 64 year old pastor friend of mine, uh, former pastor friend of mine, who three years earlier had been unceremoniously cut loose from the ministry he built from 70 to 400 people over 16 years. His leaders had done it all wrong, even illegally according to church protocol. I can’t help but think while he’s talking, “What good is a Book of Church Order if you don’t follow it? It’s supposed to work, and does sometimes. It’s supposed to keep us from slashing the heart out of the people of God. Ya, but you’ve messed up using the BOCO too Pete. Uh huh.”

“Why do you still have a church and I don’t?”

I’m drinking my Pike’s Peak decaf (it’s afternoon, I’m hyper enough and already caffeined up; have been since 5:30 AM) fast because I have no answer for this one. He’s not attacking me, he’s just in incredible pain…still… after three years, and doesn’t have any answers that satisfy. Do I need to feel guilty because I still have a church to serve and he doesn’t? I know the answer is “no”, but I do. I’ve learned to insulate myself from the pain of others, but my friend is getting under my skin. I feel a lump rising in my throat and wash it back down. But, man, there are a lot of times when I just wished I would have an excuse like his to not be a pastor. It’s crazy work we do. In fact, right now would be a great time to be let go and not be a pastor, but I don’t tell him I feel that way. I’m listening. Scrambling for words. I want to say, “Maybe it’s a gift to you.” I don’t. Maybe I still have a church because the Lord is disciplining me for not having learned lessons I should have learned years before and He’s gonna keep me here until I finally learn them. That’s kind of twisted, but Steve Brown’s words ring in my ear: the first time I heard him speak to pastors after he retired from the pastorate he said: “I’m not a pastor any more…na na na na na na!” I laughed. And was a little envious.

But my friend still wanted to be a pastor. I just keep listening. We both believe down to our toes that God is Sovereign. He talks and I listen with that understanding between us holding us both up.

“What’s wrong with me?”

Oh, cuss…he’s lived with these feelings for 1,095 days…is that not close to unbearable? How many times did I feel that this week? Several. How many times have I admitted it? Zero. How many pastors have felt that for years? Too many to count. I want to cry with him. I can’t. I’ve been too busy, too under the gun, too involved trying to help my church survive these difficult economic times, cut back expenses without cutting back ministry, holding staff together in fragmenting times, dealing with the pain of staff lay offs. I can’t cry; I gotta keep moving forward. But at least I can relate to him and I’m there with him. Have I lost the ability to cry? No, it’s still there, but way down there…

“My wife is angrier than I am; my son hasn’t gone to church since I was fired…well, he did go with some friends last week.”

Great, after three years his wife is still struggling and his son may never want to follow Jesus and enjoy His people again. Add that to the list of incredibly painful things I’ve heard this week. On we talked. He did of course, miss something with his leadership. He missed their slipping support. Didn’t see it or feel it. He missed seeing how the staff member gained power and usurped the love of the elders. What he never accepted fully is that the church bosses who were there years before were still the real human power in the church. One major difference I begin to see in our respective churches is that he was a church developer and I was a church planter. He took the core and developed them. I built the core…and now, all those who didn’t like me left because I was there before them. It wasn’t that I was a better pastor I’m pretty sure. I’d probably made as many mistakes as my friend. The issue was probably more one of power and who’d been there first and longer. There are always some not so very spiritual reasons why some pastors seem more successful than others.

Why did he and why do we miss the signs of lack of support of our leaders? They had to be there! Again my heart sinks just one more notch as I hear the tale of his wife’s long term illness which doctors couldn’t diagnose and his sons teenage rebellion which wouldn’t end and how while dealing with his family, his leadership (fellow, brother elders) stepped away, instead of stepping toward him. Long term trial leads to eventual fatigue. He finally saw the fatigue himself: He was just going through the motions as a pastor. Been there too. Sometimes we see it too late humanly speaking, for them to forgive and reattach to us and us to them.

But the betrayal! Most seasoned pastors have felt the sledgehammer of betrayal…I have and I wanted to go after those suckers…those fellow elders. Sometimes it takes years for a flattened heart to reinflate. When they sent him on a sabbatical and told him not to return, he didn’t fight it. Why? He had no fight left in him that’s why, and any pastor who has been through a long ministry without a sabbatical, with out periodic rests and vacations, knows the feelings.

What would you do if you could do it differently, your ministry I mean?

“Pray more, have a deeper relationship with my leaders, take more study breaks and take some vacations. I wouldn’t tie vacations to our annual denominational meetings…You know, I’ve heard so many pastors say lately, ‘If I could leave this job today with a comparable salary, I would do it.’ When pastors start talking about ministry as a ‘job’ you know you’re in trouble.”

Did you hear of the time Jesus made a quick return to earth for a visit? He came upon a lame man, had compassion on him, and healed his leg. Further down the road, Our Lord came upon a blind man, had compassion on him, and healed him. A little further down the road, Jesus came upon a man sitting on the curb sobbing his heart out. Jesus asked him what was wrong. The man cried out in agony, ‘I’m a pastor!’ Jesus sad down beside him, put his arm around him…and cried too.”

We do experience agony as pastors… and incredible joy. I asked him what he’s the most passionate about in life and he told me. His face lit up, energy pulsed through him (it could have been his coffee though…) We brainstormed a plan and I told him, ‘Go do it…go do it.” I’m not the Holy Spirit but I think at the end of the day, what happened to him was a gift. Now he has the opportunity to reach convergence…his business career plus his ministry career equals fulfilling the reason God put him on planet earth. No distractions. Focus. Grace always shows up to God’s beloved sons and daughters, always, sooner or later. What was wrong with him? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. And there’s nothing wrong with you either.

You take it to heart…

Pete

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