Yesterday a pastor told us of calling together his leading lay leaders to discuss the development of a long range ministry plan. He asked each one to share his thoughts about the church’s present ministry, and how they would like to see it developed during the next five years. The first two speakers openly expressed an enthusiastic optimism about the future of the church. After a very brief pause, the third speaker, an older businessman, rather abruptly stated, “One of our problems is that there’s just no power in the preaching.” There was dead silence. The pastor felt as if he’d been slapped in the face. The mood of the room changed from warm expectation to cold crisis.
In a thousand ways, such incidents occur every week. How should pastors and lay leaders deal with the various types of conflict and crisis in the church?
Editor Paul Robbins and publisher Harold Myra met in Lexington, Massachusetts, with Monty Burnham, pastor of United Presbyterian Church in Newton; Westy Egmont, pastor of South Church in Andover; Richard Hagstrom, management consultant and a member of Evangelical Covenant Church in Springfield; Gordon MacDonald, pastor of Grace Chapel in Lexington; and Paul Toms, pastor of Park Street Church in Boston, to discuss both the internal and external crises that face the Christian leader.
Robbins: Those who observe the church today say that the Christian leader-especially the parish pastor-is going through an identity crisis. Who is this person? How is he or she to be an effective spouse, parent, community leader, and human being while representing the voice of God? How is he to constantly identify with the needs and problems of others while struggling with personal depression, anxiety, fear, and doubt?
Gordon MacDonald: There are a number of ways we can attack this problem. In the past 20 years “professionals” have emerged who specialize in specific pastoral functions. There are professional counselors who do what pastors used to do. We have communications experts, managers, and administrators. Almost every pastoral function can be done better by some professional. When I have a bad day, I begin to wonder if I have any relevance to society.
Robbins: What does this do to the pastor internally?
MacDonald: It makes you go through a crisis of insignificance. I think it’s best illustrated by picking up the classified ads section of the Wall Street Journal and discovering there’s nothing there pastors can do.
Harold Myra: What you’re saying is that a pastor has few options. Many feel locked into the ministry. They can perform only one role within one denomination, therefore they have to bend to every pressure that comes along. Does this demean the pastor?
Paul Toms: The pressures are noteworthy and very real. I don’t think any of us would denigrate them. We can talk and talk about the pressure; however, I’d like to comment about pressure from a positive point of view. Pressure consistently drives me back to a happy and thoroughly satisfying recognition that I am the object of God’s call in a specific, special way. I constantly go back to a verse like “I thank God who counted me faithful, putting me into the ministry.” That ministry is my life. I’ve been tempted to look at the want ads, but those temptations are fleeting, and simply reflect a stronger and more joyful realization that I am what God has called me to be. There’s a fantastic amount of satisfaction in that.
Westy Egmont; I see the twentieth century church as being like a demanding mother. From her two types of children are born. Some are keenly aware that they are God’s person. They’re strong, and able to bring to any situation a character that befits the calling God has given them. The other type succumbs to the demanding mother. They’re weak, and become servants of every whim, every force, and every demand. They in essence have no backbone, and after a period of time lose their identity. The corporate church often does not see its own power to make and destroy its servants.
Myra: That’s a powerful statement! How can we help people not to become that second type of child?
MacDonald: Henri Nouwen said that there came a time in his life when he realized he was a prisoner of people’s expectations rather than being liberated by divine promises.
Monty Burnham: For me, I find it helpful to think of my identity coming not from what I do, but from the context of all my relationships. Before
God, I see myself as his child by creation and by redemption. Before my wife Betsy, I see myself as her husband and friend. Before my children, I see myself as their father and friend. Before my congregation, I see myself as their pastor, teacher, enabler, and friend. Before the world, I see myself as Christ’s ambassador and friend. I can only identify who I am in the context of other people. That’s why I want to keep a broad exposure to relationships on all fronts.
Dick Hagstrom: I was recently with a pastor who said, “Numbers create false values. They place emphasis on man’s endeavors rather than the work of the Holy Spirit.” At lunch we were talking about the comparison game that Christian leaders often play, and the way it affects their identities. In running my own business, I find I always come out second-best or last when I start comparing myself with others who do similar work. When I get mired in that muck I lose confidence; I become insecure and almost immobilized. Where I’m coming from is Galatians 6:4 where it clearly says that we should be satisfied in what we’re doing and then we will not need to compare ourselves with anyone else.
Toms: I think that Dick has touched on a critical area. It’s so easy to be caught up in the spirit and momentum of competition. I remember attending a Bible conference that featured outstanding speakers from across the country plus one who was completely unknown. While he was a man of great ability, deep spiritual perception, and splendid communicative gifts, everyone wondered why he hadn’t been heard of before. Or why he chose to be the pastor of a small church. Whenever one gets around a group of ministers, it’s always tempting to let others know that I have as many people as you have, I’ve read as many books as you have, and I travel as much as you travel-and if I don’t, then you certainly have something that I ought to have.
MacDonald: I agree with what Paul is saying 100 percent. However, we should note that it is no different in the rest of the world. The reason these comparisons are so horrible is because they are exposed by the light of the gospel. Every Monday the men and women of our churches walk into a world that’s full of comparison and competition. They compete for one another’s jobs, for professional prestige, and for the buck. It’s a part of the American way but when it’s measured according to spiritual criteria, its ugliness begins to show. I think we need to be constantly reminded that Jesus, by the standards of cultural success models, was a miserable failure. He had only twelve in his congregation and lost one of them. The rest ran away at the time of his crucifixion. But Jesus thrived-his food was to do his Father’s will, and it came out of a deep sense of his identity. He knew who he was, and therefore was able to serve.
Hagstrom: When I go through these identity crises, I reach out to five or six people to whom I can go for help. When I’m with them I feel I’m in the presence of the Lord.
Robbins: What you’re saying is that the leader, to be effective in dealing with his own internal conflicts, has to keep coming back to the touchstone of
who he is and how he relates to God. And he partially finds this out through his horizontal relationships with a few close friends.
MacDonald: Let me add to this. Throughout the writings of the apostle Paul, he constantly alludes to his self-awareness: I am a sinner saved by grace; I am a sinner called by God; I am a servant in the name of Christ; I am a father to Timothy; I am a brother to Epaphroditus; I am a friend of you people in Ephesus. When he speaks, he speaks with clearcut authority because he knows who he is. I’ll go. one step further. I think Paul likes himself. That’s a critical key to self-identity. During my preparation for Christian ministry, I was never trained to like myself. It’s only in the last few years that I’ve discovered that to love one’s self is not anti-God. Self-love is vital for growth.
Robbins: How did you come to this discovery?
MacDonald: It’s framed for me in an Old Testament
verse: “As a father pities his children, so the Lord pities those who fear him.” I began to contemplate my relationship to God in the same way I relate to my 13-year-old daughter. I enjoy her at this age. I would be disturbed if she tried to act like a 20-year-old. I don’t want her to grow up too quickly, nor do I want her to act like a six-year-old. In the same way I sense that God is enjoying me as a 40-year-old. I suspect that he hopes that at the age of 45 I will show more Christ-likeness; but I feel there’s a contentment on God’s part with what I am at this stage of life. If God is reasonably content with me in my present condition, then I’m satisfied too. And I am learning as the Spirit of God exposes and sensitizes me both through failure and success to new depths of wisdom, insight, and discovery. I like what I’m becoming.
Egmont: I’m bothered by the picture of the “spiritual” person who needs to have good feelings about himself in order to be effective. I have known or have read about many “giants of the faith” who effectively dealt with pain, played the role of the wounded healer, and while struggling with their humanity, expressed godliness. I think it’s very important not to lay a guilt trip on Christian leaders who experience the pain of their own biographies. God uses people in every circumstance, and some of the most effective ministry comes out of pain, grief, and frustration.
MacDonald: I’ve gone to the pulpit on Sundays wishing I wasn’t there. The worst feeling is to go into the pulpit knowing you’re not adequately prepared-you haven’t mastered the text, or you’re not living up to what the Scriptures require you to say that day. But that may be the Sunday you have to say to your people, “What I’m sharing with you today I can’t honestly tell you I practice. I’m with you-fellow-beggar sharing where the bread can be found.” My observation is that without dragging myself through the mud, it’s helpful for people to know I’m a fellow-struggler.
Egmont: I think the key to this discussion is the word “authentic.” I would wish for every seminary student who reads this forum a clinical pastoral education experience, where they are confronted by their own limitations, where they have the experience to interact with truth about themselves as perceived by others, and where they can early in their
ministries realize that it’s the grace of God that does incredibly great things through their weaknesses. That experience builds authenticity.
Burnham: I agree. I am struggling to be authentic as a husband and father while serving in the role of pastor within my congregation. For instance, my wife has struggled with inoperable, incurable cancer for the last two years. I’ve learned a lot about authenticity from this emotional pilgrimage. There’s been real tension when people have wanted me to be strong and have refused to let me be weak; some have tempted me not to reveal my weaknesses, even though every day seemed like another ride on an emotional roller coaster. At the same time, Betsy and l have struggled over how to handle two adolescent daughters who like a generous measure of freedom from their mom and dad. On occasion we don’t agree, and sometimes I find myself shattered by my poor performance. It’s very difficult to climb into the pulpit or go to a committee meeting after a knockdown, drag-out confrontation with one of my children.
Toms: No doubt you’ve all heard the story, “Pity the poor pastor’s wife who has to live with him all week, and then accept him as the voice of God on Sunday.” For me, there’s a positive side to this story. I candidly acknowledge that my need for a “father-confessor” has been invariably met by my own family. I’ve never had to search for someone outside. My wife and children have always known when I was down and when something was haywire at the church. I’ve never known a time when my family didn’t rally around me and become my source of strength and encouragement.
Hagstrom: I think both of you are talking about unconditional love. I struggle with two things in my own life. One, jealousy. Someone once said that a good idea is one that hits you with a bolt of envy. I’m always measuring myself against other peoples’ ideas and actions. Two, I struggle with people who have a different philosophy than I have. I want other people to fit into my mold, and I want to project myself on to them. What’s helped me with both of these struggles is the realization that God wants me to love as he does, unconditionally.
Toms: That’s the heart of the matter. Unconditional love is what all of us plead for in our own lives and in the larger fellowship of the church. If unconditional love existed in our lives, most of this could be put aside.
Robbins: “Most of this” meaning conflict?
Toms: That’s quite right. Family members, more than anyone else, tend to have unconditional love. They know what you’re all about as well as what you ought to be. They know your foibles and blemishes, and yet love you anyway. Periodically
there are glimpses of this kind of love in the church, and when it happens, man, you walk on air.
Robbins: Why do we tend to put conditions on love?
MacDonald: Probably because of the fear of failure. Like everyone who is brought up in an achievement-oriented environment, I have a fear of failure. Everything I was taught, both in secular and Christian terms, was tied to achievement. I remember as a young Christian being fed a diet of missionary biographies that cast these people as heroes or great achievers. I still struggle with the word failure. I desperately fear failing my wife, and my children.
Burnham: I can identify with that feeling. I have come to the forum this afternoon with butterflies in my stomach. I fear that I will embarrass myself by not saying something brilliant or scintillating. I fear my thoughts are going to be printed in a widely-read journal. I fear you’ll find out what really goes on inside of me, or doesn’t go on.
Myra: As you’ve been describing this fear of failure, I as a layman have been thinking, “The pastorate is almost programmed for failure.” I hear that many pastors spend at least 20 hours a week counseling, are expected to spend 20 minutes to an hour preparing for every minute they spend in the pulpit, are to be model spouses and parents, and, let’s face it, they’re expected to be a crack administrator of a growing and expanding business. As I sit at this table listening to you talk about competition, comparison, authenticity, and unconditional love, I keep wondering, “In light of your responsibilities and the pressures of your tasks, how do you cope?”
MacDonald: I don’t feel I’m facing any more pressure or responsibility than any other working person in my church. I believe the pastor may be the target of more spiritual battles, but I don’t find I work harder than most of the people in my church. When I share with them the pressures I feel, I find they can not only match my pressures but often exceed them. These exchanges counteract my selfpity. Frankly, I admire the laity who work as hard as I do to make a living, and then come back to Grace Chapel and work more.
Egmont: A moment ago we were saying that fear of failure is one factor that can inhibit unconditional love. Another factor is the need for security. It’s a basic need for most pastors, and many churches do not give the pastor strong indications of security. At any annual meeting the whole thing could be over. The pastor lives with the knowledge that a critically wrong decision could cause the church to turn on him, put his family out of a home, fracture relationships, and cause him to rebuild his whole life.
MacDonald: I have a feeling that we’re all speaking about the same thing on different levels. I’m not going to accept the notion that I shouldn’t worry about failing people. I’m very worried about that. God has given me certain gifts and this congregation has given me time, and if I don’t produce with a reasonable degree of excellence, then something is wrong. I can’t walk away and say, “Well, I failed, so I’m a broken person.” I must find out why I failed. And if I fail consistently, the congregation should throw me out. I’m a professional in what God has called me to do. Professional football players are expected to go out on the field and perform in spite of injuries. Physicians are expected to operate in spite of emotional or family pressures. And I am expected to serve my people no matter what my personal situation may be 95 percent of the time.
Robbins: I would like to pull us back to the question Harold raised. “In light of the responsibilities and pressures a Christian leader faces, how can he cope?” In my own experiences as a pastor, I found that my greatest conflicts were at the point of time management; there was always so much more to do than I could get done. I prioritized and reprioritized and still came to the end of many weeks not sure that I had accurately differentiated between good, better, and best.
MacDonald: But then, that’s not a struggle for time, is it? It’s a struggle for the use of time. It’s important to discriminate between these two points. Alexander the Great conquered the world in 24-hour days. The President of the United States runs this country in the same amount of time I have available to me. I’ve found that people who do not know how to use their time are always saying, “I never have enough time.”
Robbins: To what degree do you feel you’ve grasped the fine art of knowing how best to use your time?
MacDonald: On a scale of one to ten? (Laughter)
Hagstrom: There is only one thing you can really plan for, and that is the unexpected. Things aren’t going to happen the way you planned them. Trying to follow moment-by-moment time schedules turns you and other people into robots. Tricks like edging someone toward the door is a recommended time management technique for moving someone out of your office. I think such tactics are grossly inhuman. People aren’t going to drop in when you want them to. I think one of the worst questions to ask at the end of the day is, “What have I accomplished today?” There are many days when I can’t put my finger on tangible, measurable accomplishments, but in terms of meeting people’s needs and holding their hands, I’ve accomplished a lot.
Egmont: That’s a reasonable goal for a pastor- holding the hands of people who need him.
Burnham: I wrestle with both sides of this problem. For me, it is captured by the term pastor/teacher. Pastoring means being sensitive, compassionate, responsive, and available. Teaching implies the creation of a strategy. Being a teacher means I need to plan, initiate, implement, delegate, discipline, and follow through. I find myself blowing back and forth between these two poles wanting to maintain both.
Egmont: One of Sam Shoemaker’s books helped me resolve this dilemma. He talks about having one primary task for each portion of the day. This concept allows for a tremendous amount of freedom on either side of the task. I divide my week up into 21 units of time. I schedule a primary task for each unit. This schedule helps me discipline and measure my time while allowing enough latitude to absorb the surprises of life and be responsive to serendipitous moments.
MacDonald: That’s one strategy for the use of time. In my case, I enjoy being under the gun. When my publisher calls and says, “You have to get this manuscript done in two weeks,” there’s something in me that says, “Great, now I have to get it done.” Time pressure brings the best out of me. But let me go beyond that to say that the thing that keeps me free of guilt most of the time is my sense of purpose. If I can affirm every morning that I was called to the ministry, and what this ministry is supposed to be accomplishing, then I feel good about the day. I accept interruptions as part of my job. Peter Drucker said, “Interruptions are the job of the executive.” Well, the same is true for pastors. I have constantly pushed back deadlines without guilt if I had the satisfaction that an unexpected time expenditure was in line with my pastoral purpose.
Toms: The real question of how one uses his time is one which every person has to ultimately confront. He has to decide how much time he’s going to spend “with the boys,” and how much time he’s going to spend in personal devotions. One of my favorite stories comes from Fuller Seminary when someone said to Dr. Wilbur Smith, “Dr. Smith, we understand that Donald Gray Barnhouse carries a big bag of books with him and reads eight hours every day no matter where he is or what he’s doing. Is this true?” Wilbur Smith fixed the inquirer with a straightforward gaze and said, “Young man, let me tell you something. It’s true. But Donald Gray Barnhouse wouldn’t know one of his own elders if he met him on the street.” The Christian leader better have a clear idea of why he’s in a church and what needs to be accomplished, plus a strategy for accomplishing it. Otherwise he will dissipate his energy in a hundred different directions.
Hagstrom: And probably wrap himself in a warm, cozy blanket of self-pity.
MacDonald: The apostle Paul told the Colossians to rejoice in his sufferings for their sake. I guess one of the things I have learned by accepting a call to the ministry is the “monastic principle.” I accepted the fact that I simply cannot live or have the right to live like every member of my church. The way I use my money, the way I relate to the opposite sex, and the amusements I choose are conditioned by my responsibilities for spiritual leadership. I have never negotiated my salary as most of the men in my congregation do. I’ve never shopped for a Cadillac or a Chrysler. I gave up those rights. I may never be shipwrecked, beaten, or thrown into jail, but there are other subtle types of stresses, sufferings, and denials with which I must live. Once a person decides with Paul to rejoice in these differences, it changes your attitude about the task.
Hagstrom: Gordon, as a layman, I like your concept of a higher standard for the clergy. To me, the pastor is a spiritual leader, and I expect him to maintain some distance from me. Spiritually, I think of him as a step higher-not better.
Burnham: If, indeed, we pastors are higher, then I’d like to bring everyone up to our level. But I’d prefer to step off the pedestal and walk on the same ground where everyone else is. I don’t think I earn the right to help others because I’m on a higher plane, but rather because I’m their friend.
Hagstrom: But you’re still the pastor. You’re a minister, and I want to respect that.
Burnham: But I feel you’re putting me in a box. I’m much more than a pastor. I’m a child of God, a husband, a father, Christ’s ambassador in the world. I need you to know me as a human being, and I think at that human level I can best minister to you.
Hagstrom: I accept that.
Burnham: It doesn’t sound like you do.
Hagstrom: Oh, yes, absolutely. I want to deal with you on a human level as well, but I still feel that because God has called you to be a pastor, you have a special, specific responsibility that I want to respect. And I don’t feel inferior to you because of that.
Robbins: At lunch today, we were talking about the cartoons in the first issue of LEADERSHIP. Many of you responded positively to the drawing of the gigantic fishbowl in which the pastor and his wife and child were living. Why did this cartoon strike you so forcefully?
MacDonald: I think most pastors talk about the fishbowl life. I’m now the pastor of a multiple staff, but once I had a church with 39 people. I did everything from opening the doors Sunday morning to sweeping out the sanctuary at the end of the day. In my 18 years of ministry I’ve always enjoyed fishbowl life. When I entered the pastorate I bought into the fishbowl. I surrendered my rights of privacy and I love it!
Egmont: I share that delight of living in the fishbowl. I love the opportunity it gives me to live as a witness to the life of Jesus Christ before all people. However, I often realize that the decision I’ve made for myself impinges on the freedom of the people I love. And that’s painful. My family members are often expected to perform as public figures even though it’s not their choosing. Just the other day my eight-year-old came home from school and said, “Daddy, the kids at school said I ought to do such-and-such because I’m a preacher’s kid.”
Toms: I remember hearing Clarence Roddy tell of the time he and his family were seated around the dinner table one evening. Following their meal they planned for an evening of games with the children. The phone rang-it was an emergency that required his immediate attention. He said to his family, “I’m sorry, but I must go to the hospital.” His eight-year-old son blurted out, “I hate that blankety-blank church!” Dr. Roddy said he almost fell over. But it was a turning point in his life and in the scheduling of his time. From then on, Thursday night was family night, and nothing was allowed to interrupt it.
Burnham: I’m still trying to work out a lifestyle of fishbowl living. Frankly, I need to pull the shades once in awhile.
MacDonald: Monty, while I just said I love living in the fishbowl, I agree with you that the shades have to be occasionally drawn. For example, if you try to call my home between 5:30 and 6:30 most evenings, you’ll find the line is busy. The last thing I do before one of us asks the blessing at dinner is to take the phone off the hook. Others have found this shocking, but I can count on one hand the number of calls during the dinner hour that were emergencies which needed my immediate attention. I think we sometimes develop a mentality of indispensability, and thus cancel out the joy of fishbowl visibility.
Robbins: Doesn’t this tie into our earlier conversations about the fear of failure and the need for security? Don’t pastors and Christian leaders develop an attitude of indispensability because they’re reaching out for affirmation?
MacDonald: I’m speculating, but it’s easy for me to believe that Clarence Roddy had that experience with his eight-year-old son because he had been out every night for the previous fifteen nights. When basketball season started last December, I asked my secretary to put every one of my son’s games on the church calendar for me. She knows that I will not accept an appointment thirty minutes before a basketball game. My son knows I’m going to be in the stands. And when a day comes like today-he’s playing at 3:15-I say, “Bud, I can’t be there today.” But there’s not the slightest amount of tension because I was there last week. The same thing is true with my wife. She knows that eight out
of ten times when I commit myself to be with her, I’ll be there. Thus she’s not bothered by emergencies.
Robbins: Let’s talk for a few moments about the dynamics of a multiple-staff situation.
Egmont: Good. Most of us are poorly trained and equipped to be responsible for a professional staff and a budget of hundreds of thousands of dollars.
MacDonald: I would like to quickly dispel the notion that a multiple staff saves the senior minister work. I constantly hear individuals of single-pastor churches say, “Boy, if I had a staff like yours, I’d get so much more done,” or “It must be nice having all those assistants.” I suppose when I was younger I thought the same thing. But I’ve discovered that a staff doesn’t lessen the workload; in fact, it’s increased. The greatest benefit of a multiple staff is that it allows for specialization. But as I move into specialized areas, I find myself busier than ever. For every staff member you have, you can plan to spend several hours a week involved in the work that that staff member generates, whether it’s the decisions generated, the money that needs to be raised, or the time necessary to develop the staff member.
Myra: What would you say are the two or three universal areas of conflict that occur in a multiplestaff situation?
MacDonald: Different agendas. We often employ people to do specific jobs only to discover six or eight months later that they really want to do something else. If we hire them to do administrative work, they want to counsel. If we hire them to do youth work, they want to preach. So many staff members regard what they’re being paid to do as secondary to what they’d like to be doing.
Hagstrom: In the church staff situations where I’ve done consulting, I often find little personcentered supervision. The staff often views the pastor as the dispenser of tasks rather than one who is genuinely interested in them personally. The management theory to which I subscribe says that any kind of managerial or supervisory activity begins with the development of the person. It starts with their spiritual life, deals with their personal life, and concludes with their vocational life. Many staff members resent staff meetings as a substitute for one-on-one experiences. This is rampant in parachurch organizations as well as within the church. The point of tension is “I am not heard, I never see the pastor, and if I go into his office we only talk about business.”
Egmont: I think the critical element here might be the question of accountability. The church, in trying to maintain a spiritual stance and not look like a business, often doesn’t take into account the necessities of a supervisory role, the structure of authority, and the flow of power. We must be very clear in the calling process to define the job and seek a person who is willing to live under the restrictions of the job. That person needs to know to whom they are responsible and what the expectations are. Obviously, conflict is inevitable if these definitions are not clearly spelled out.
MacDonald: For the sake of better definition, I’d like to throw a monkey wrench into Dick’s reasoning. How much babysitting should a pastor do with his staff? Isn’t it reasonable to assume that men and women who have been called to the ministry can
accept a support-staff position with special inner strength and understanding? Don’t we spend a lot of energy babysitting staff members when, indeed, we’ve been called together as a team to minister to the rest of the congregation?
Hagstrom: I’m not talking about babysitting or handholding. I’m talking about taking the time to sit down and ask, “What are your priorities for this next quarter? What do you hope to accomplish next month?”
MacDonald: But that’s managing, that’s not pastoring a person.
Hagstrom: I call this person-centered supervision. Its objective is to help the person develop in the areas of his or her gifts. It eliminates a lot of handholding and crisis problem-solving. This is not classical business management. Classical business management means getting things done through others. To me, getting is a synonym for manipulation. I think the emphasis should be on developing others and establishing accountability from me to them and from them to me. It’s a twoway street.
Egmont: I think it’s important for staff members to feel that someone understands them. As senior pastors, we have all understood the pain of feeling no one understands what we do with our time. We must pastor our own staffs. If we fail to minister to those immediately around us, we will create strained relationships that will eventually break. We must establish primary, caring relationships with our coworkers.
MacDonald: I agree with you, yet the other day I heard a senior minister say, “When you get involved with a staff member personally, it gets more and more difficult to extract the required amount of work.” Granted, a relationship must be established that allows both of you to converse freely; but you’re paying this person to produce results. If he comes in and says, “Well, I’m having problems at home,” or “I’m under this or that pressure,” it’s not long before you find yourself carrying him and his workload. We hear a lot of criticism from staff members that the senior minister doesn’t care for them. We don’t hear often enough about the fact that many senior ministers are carrying unproductive staff members because the senior minister doesn’t have courage to pull the string.
Burnham: I hear a polarity here between organization and organism. As the head of organizational structures, we must hold accountable those for whom we’ve been given responsibility, just as we are accountable to the church board or the session, and to God himself. That’s one tension I feel as I try to relate to my staff team. On the other hand, my aspiration is to treat my staff not as a big jug to a little mug-I want us to meet mug to mug, so to speak. Together we help each other. There is a mutual sharing as peers.
Egmont: It seems to me that we’re talking about the question of authority. How is power to be exercised in the church? If power is exercised vertically, then intimacy will erode our ability to confront. If we are to view power horizontally or look at the congregational model, which is my denomination, the power does not lie in the pastor. The authority is so dispersed that it is very difficult to even grab hold of it. Thus, a senior pastor can take risks of great intimacy because if a staff member fails to meet the expectations of the body, someone else will blow the whistle.
MacDonald: I hear what you say and I love to hear it, but I promise you, in nine out of ten cases it’s not going to work because of the nature of humanity. Congregations seldom fire anyone until there’s been total incompetency, psychological breakdown, or moral failure. Disaster has usually struck before anyone does anything about it. It’s tough to dismiss a staff member who’s not producing. It’s especially tough if you’ve already done everything you could and the staff member takes advantage of you because he’s human as well. I’ve had to deal with situations like this, and they’ve been among the most painful moments of my ministry. You can talk about congregational church government all you want. But, when you get right down to it, the leader-the senior minister-has to make the decision because the group refuses to face up to it.
Robbins: Over a year ago when I was doing research to determine what kind of journal LEADERSHIP should become, I put together a listing of proposed article concepts to see how people would respond to them. It’s been interesting to note that church staff members, without exception, zeroed in on an idea entitled “Disillusionment with the Teamwork Speech.” Usually they would say something like, ‘I hope you have the courage to write about that one.” Since all of you are senior ministers, would you express an opinion about why you think they feel this way?
Toms: I’ll risk an opinion. Many times I think what a staff person is really saying is, “I want to have more of a place of authority in this structure than I am allowed to have.” Other times I think the staff member is saying, “I have a desire to achieve a higher goal of decision-making in this organization than I am allowed to have.” It’s difficult to say this because it sounds so blunt, but often these thoughts are reflected in the staff’s attitude. They have either forgotten what their job description is, or have decided to ignore it, and thus create for themselves a very frustrating situation.
Myra: Or was this job description misrepresented in the first place?
Toms: That certainly is possible. But even if the job description is spelled out as clearly as possible, the key question still is, “Are you willing to assume a subordinate position?”
Myra: And that question should be asked before hiring is consummated.
Toms: Absolutely. There should be no misunderstanding about who is going to have the final authority. I’m aware that this may sound hard and absolute, but it’s said in the context of working with the finest group of staff people I’ve ever known in my years of ministry. They’re loyal to their jobs, loyal to Park Street Church, and I can honestly say that they’re thoroughly loyal to me. I find in them the most amazing kind of competence and assurance that we truly operate as a team.
Robbins: What do you think teamwork means?
Toms: To me teamwork means saying, “Here’s your job description. This is what we expect you to do. We’ll do all we can with the resources available to us to help you perform this task, but basically you’re on your own. When you need help and encouragement, come in and we’ll talk about it, but in the meantime, get going.” Nine times out of ten staff members rise to that kind of challenge. They like the degree of trust and freedom that this kind of understanding gives them. They know they’re responsible to produce, and if they don’t produce, they’re accountable to me, and I in turn am accountable to the congregation. When the staff person deviates from the job description and desires more decision-making authority, or more time to preach, he becomes vulnerable to the dissident voices in the church, and can gravitate toward becoming a kingdom builder on his own. Then there’s trouble.
Egmont: I’m enjoying this exchange, but I’m conscious that we represent the senior pastor’s perspective, and we have to recognize that often there is legitimate criticism of the supervisor. What happens to the staff member who is given a job to do but is never given the authority to do it? Or how about the seminarian who is hired as an assistant and during the first two or three years he outgrows the original job description but is expected to remain within his rigid parameters? He is not given additional responsibility, authority, trust, or the opportunity to take new risks. If he explores new dimensions of ministry, it looks as if he’s going out on his own. Somehow he has to get the attention of the senior pastor so his situation can be renegotiated.
Toms: I agree with that.
Hagstrom: Personnel research indicates that if the supervisor candidly describes the positive and negative aspects of the job in the recruitment process, the person who accepts is more apt to perform satisfactorily and happily. If there’s a lack of consistency between what he was told and what happens-like growth opportunities within the job that never materialize-the staff member will eventually become disillusioned and begin to ask, “Why am I here?” or “Am I really being listened to?”
Myra: Let’s talk about destructive conflict for awhile, and how to avoid it. Let me set the context by describing a personal experience. At our recent annual church business meeting I sensed an atmosphere of strong tension about one of the agenda items, even though the elders had spent many hours discussing the matter before they brought it to the congregation. Obviously, most of the people weren’t in that discussion and were building a head of steam against the recommendation. I sat there thinking, “Among other things, the church is the kind of place where lots of bombs are just waiting to go off.” We all know stories of horrible church splits where Christians allowed so much pain and bitterness to develop that it took years to heal if it was ever healed at all. How do we locate these bombs and keep them from going off?
Toms: Harold, I think the key is the pastor. Hopefully, he has been working hard to bankroll a savings account of love, good will, and confidence. The strongest advice I can give to a young person going into the ministry is, make sure you build good, honest, warm relationships, because someday you’re going to have to draw on them. If you have no bank account, a bankruptcy of leadership can happen very quickly. Second, the minister must be extremely cautious as he deals with the highly delicate issues of his church. His primary task is reconciliation. He needs to be the peacemaker and bridgebuilder. If he acts impulsively and goes to the other side of the creek and plants his flag, it will be difficult for him to build a bridge back. Now, what I’m saying probably causes you to immediately think, “There has to be a time when one drives down a stake.” True. But it takes the wisdom of God to know exactly when to finally say, “This is it. Under God I believe this is where we are and what we must do.” Because if you’re dealing with a highly flammable issue, you always shut the door to the people who don’t agree with you.
Burnham: I hear you saying that the minister shouldn’t go to the mat on every issue. While we need to be prophets who speak the truth and take firm stands even if it crucifies us, our primary role is to be shepherds.
Toms: Absolutely.
Myra: Are you saying that the pastor is to be the main arbiter? Most of you lead large churches that have fires here, there, and everywhere. How do you effectively deal with them? You can’t possibly be personally involved all the time. Do you delegate this to your staff or to your board?
MacDonald: One key is communication. If you establish a good mechanism by which you get undistorted feedback from a cross-section of the congregation, and, in turn, can send undistorted messages back through the mechanism, you’re in good shape.
Robbins: Can you give us an example?
MacDonald: Every Tuesday morning I ask my staff members to turn in a written report indicating the significant meetings they’ve had in the previous weeks with any groups or individuals, and the subject matter that was covered. Just this morning I talked to one of my associates about his report. I had circled the names of five people and said, “I noticed you talked to so-and-so. Can you elaborate on that?” As he shared the details I said, “That’s interesting. This could become a problem situation.
How would you suggest this be handled?”
Toms: I think it’s significant, Gordon, that you went into your associate’s office, talked to him about it, and let him handle it. You could have picked up the phone, called the individual in question and said, “I hear you’ve said something to my associate this week that gives me concern. You and I need to have this out right now.” Obviously, both the individual and your associate would have felt compromised.
Burnham: I agree that one of our primary roles is to be peacemaker and bridgebuilder. In my case, that’s best done by being a sounding board. When people come to me with their grievances, whether they are staff or members of the congregation, I always try to ask them, “Have you gone to the person with whom you disagree?”
Invariably they haven’t. Usually I respond, “What keeps you from going? Do you need someone to help mediate this conflict?” They usually respond, “Oh, no!” If I sense they have no plans to resolve the situation, I often add, “Will you give me permission on your behalf to go to this person and divulge the source of the complaint?” Sometimes that’s just enough encouragement to get them moving toward reconciliation, or at least facing up to their own stubbornness. Occasionally I find myself going to that other person and saying, “So-and-so has given me permission to come and speak on his behalf concerning his grievances.” At that point I’ve moved from sounding board to bridgebuilder.
Robbins: A moment ago someone said the pastor is the key to preventing destructive conflict. What can the laity do to prevent or stop conflict?
Egmont: My plea is simply that people allow it. Conflict plus love equals growth. I would hope that they would quickly realize that the freedom to interact, to experience creative tension, and to share differing opinions are signs of a healthy, growing church.
Burnham: As pastors, I think we need to spend more time proclaiming our unity in Jesus Christ in the midst of our diversity as people.
MacDonald: In the culture around us, conflict implies a win/loss situation. The first question always is, “How can I win?” In marriage, my conviction is that whenever conflict occurs, both partners must ask, “What is best for our relationship?” In the church, the same question applies: “What is best for the body of Christ?” I prefer to look at my own congregation as a garden. Every person in my congregation is a part of that garden. There are trees in our congregation, there are roses, and there are dandelions. It is imperative that the pastor understand how a garden is composed and what every living thing in that garden needs. A tree needs to be a tree. Roses don’t grow in the same manner as trees. As a young pastor, I made the mistake of trying to get everyone to become a tree at the growth rate of a rose. When we do that we risk conflict.
One last thought. We should never underestimate the complexity of the church. It’s the only institution that takes care of people from the cradle to the grave. Part of the reason there is conflict in the church is that it deals with spiritual problems. People expect the church to be a healing, loving experience, but they often find conflict. They may also find anger, jealousy, and lust. At the church, we need to come together and confront our own sinfulness, and the sinfulness of one another. Thus we ought not be surprised when someone opens a door and “real life” springs out. That’s what the church is all about-to deal with real life redemptively.
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