A healthy church blesses God, fulfills a pastor, endears parishioners and enriches a community. But, my goodness, how often we mess it up with our sniping – on both sides of the pulpit.
Pulpits have a built-in invisible bull’s eye, making those who fill them prime targets – not for much-needed prayer, but for congregational sniping. (Experienced pastors, feel free to nod enthusiastically here.)
A problem begins small, usually. An unintended hurt. A slightly critical attitude. Not managed by prayer and confession, it rolls, snowball-like, through a soul. Then, gaining weight and momentum, it spreads through the church.
Regular church attendees know when something is fomenting inside the pastor. She or he seems off the mark. No explanation given, but here’s a possibility: The leader could be suffering from second-hand smoke. The kind that rises from dinners of roast preacher during the previous week – perhaps blown his or her way through the innocent comments of a child who sat at one of those tables. (Or a congregation member may have ripped off a strip of hide, and it stings. That happens too – and too often.)
Snipers in the pews can annihilate a pastor. Some congregations descend to guerrilla-like tactics to take their leader down. (Tragically, PTSD is also felt by soldiers of the Cross, and some pastors never return to ministry.)
But the sniping goes both ways. No clergy-person is immune from the temptation to wrongly use God-given authority. Some pastors fall hard into the trap of power. Congregants accustomed (wrongly) to revering a pastor, compound the problem by responding like puppets to increasingly authoritarian manners.
Authoritarian leaders regularly chide their congregants from the pulpit for not meeting expectations. They frequently (mis)quote pet scriptures that seem to reinforce their comments. Now the church members feel roasted. Powerless.
I recently had a heartbreaking conversation with a lady whose new pastor had come to her church with excellent references. But his “we’ll do it my way” (because it’s God’s way, of course)” attitude rapidly decimated the congregation. Too late, the church leaders (or those remaining) discovered he’d doctored his resume, and had a history of such actions.
Healthy churches need pastors, not masters. Clergy who lead with a batons, not clubs, inspiring others to deeper faith and wider ministry by teaching truth and modeling humble, loving service.
A godly pastor, like the Good Shepherd, doesn’t yank the flock or continually berate them. Pulling alongside people on the road of life, as a fallible fellow-follower of Jesus Christ, he or she prays constantly, leads decisively and ministers with passion, trusting the Holy Spirit to soften hard hearts and correct where necessary.
The world already has too many wars without waging one behind our church doors. Healing begins with prayer and confession – and open, honest dialogue. And over decades of pastoral ministry, the Preacher and I have learned (sometimes painfully) that if God is to be honoured among us, Christ-like love must always come first. And this: Honey catches more flies than vinegar.
