PIECING TOGETHER A SHATTERED CHURCH

I was jogging down the street, thinking about my new church (I had arrived only a few weeks earlier), when a man I had never seen motioned with his hand for me to stop. I slowed down, stopped, and tried to catch my breath.

“Are you the new pastor of Suburban Baptist?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said, smiling.

“I’ll never go there again!” he hissed. Then he began an angry tirade about the church’s hypocrisy, its control by a few members, its lack of love. It took him thirty minutes to finish.

I could tell he had been deeply hurt, but I wasn’t sure what to say. I only knew this was going to be the most difficult pastorate of my ministry.

Following a Fallen Pastor

The previous pastor at Suburban, whom I’ll call Fred Sharpe, had resigned under pressure from charges of sexual indiscretions and aberrant theology. When I had candidated, the pastoral search committee described the problems in general terms, with a note of sadness. “Fred was a man of unusual abilities,” they explained.

Before Fred had become pastor, the congregation had been divided on whether to call him, but Fred had been highly recommended and demonstrated qualities the congregation sought: he was articulate, personable, and young, and held a reputation for leading churches into growth.

The church grew rapidly under Fred’s ministry. Many were attracted to his nontraditional approach to preaching and worship, and soon a second service was started. After about eighteen months, however, a few people started leaving the church, upset primarily by Fred’s theology and his practice of drinking beer in public. There were also rumors of sexual indiscretions.

As I considered the call to Suburban, Fred was still living in the community and had started a “Church without Walls.” The church staff was in disarray: one of the associate pastors had resigned; the other was having serious marital problems. I sensed the church’s financial condition was unstable, even though the interim pastor assured me this was not the case. (Time proved him wrong.)

For these reasons, I struggled for three months with whether to go to Suburban. But I accept as a good definition of God’s call “a task to be done and the ability to do it.” People told me they felt I had the abilities, so after much prayer, I accepted the call.

Trying to Get the Total Story

I thought I had the full story when I came. But about six months after I arrived, Fred moved in with his girl friend. Neither was divorced at that time. I learned that Fred’s sexual improprieties had been going on for several years and had caused severe strains in his marriage. The search committee had not covered the problem; no one knew the extent or severity of it until Fred and his wife separated.

Every member’s attitude toward me and the church was in some way colored by these past events, yet each person viewed those events in different ways. It was difficult to get a clear picture of what had happened.

The complexity of the situation can be seen in the different reminiscences of four members:

A strong supporter of Fred’s: “I’m not sure why I wasn’t aware of the moral problems, except that maybe I wasn’t in contact with anyone who disagreed with us. Those who agree with an embattled pastor tend to surround him and cut him off from divergent viewpoints. There were a few vague charges brought out at a couple of business meetings, but they were discounted.”

A female church leader: “Looking back, I realize Fred was making improper overtures to some of the women. Tales came back to me of such actions taking place at retreats, but they also occurred in the homes of the members.”

A deacon who opposed Fred: “My opposition began when Fred preached a sermon on ‘Open Marriage,’ the essence of which was biblically and morally unsound. Prior to that sermon, I had become concerned about rumors that Fred, in his home, encouraged young people to experiment with alcoholic beverages (though only in moderation).” When this deacon’s opposition became vocal, many members reported to him rumors of Fred’s sexual indiscretions. He took these rumors seriously because of the people who reported them. “By the time a vote of confidence was called for, I was convinced Fred was involved in extramarital affairs, and that was the major issue in my mind in seeking Fred’s resignation.”

One of the staff members who worked with Fred: “I was supportive of Fred’s program. I also feel the church leaders shielded Fred from the conflict. Fred was still in his twenties, so they didn’t want him to get hurt in the crossfire. I was concerned over the problems Fred and his wife were having, and as a result, I probably was not ‘hearing’ what was being said about Fred.”

A Plethora of Problems

Fred’s sexual behavior was not the only issue in the controversy, but when Fred moved in with his girl friend, immorality became the problem for members of the church. This public confirmation of their suspicions caused the members who were left at Suburban to forget the other facets of the problem, and therefore made the healing process more difficult.

Among the other problems, for example, was a power struggle between the old and new members. The rapid influx of new members had made the older leadership concerned over their own loss of power. Many leaders had been upset, for instance, the time Fred asked some older members to withdraw their names from consideration as deacons so that newer members could be elected. The older members also resented several new programs pushed through by Fred.

At one of the first business meetings I attended, a conflict erupted over whether a nonmember should teach a Sunday school class. The problem was seen as a clash between those who had caused Fred’s resignation and those who had been for him. The debate shed little light but generated much heat.

The two major adult Sunday school classes had identified themselves as conservative and liberal. The “conservative” class saw its task as combating any remaining influences of Fred’s theology and lifestyle. The “liberal” class saw its task as combating the rigidness they identified with the opponents of Fred’s ministry.

Meanwhile, Fred and his new church were still in the community. He sent a letter to selected members of Suburban inviting them to the new church he had started. I called him and questioned the ethics of that practice.

“I don’t see anything wrong with it,” he replied. “I have many friends at Suburban who would like to know what I’m doing. I won’t stop contacting those members or any others I might choose.”

These conflicts scattered the leadership at Suburban Baptist. A new Baptist congregation was started in town, and a number of members saw this as an opportunity to respond to a new challenge as well as a way out of a difficult situation. Fred took with him many of his followers. What was left were many members who were hurt and disillusioned. Some withdrew from active participation, but the rest became a united remnant committed to praying and working for the rebirth of the congregation.

As a result of these complex and overlapping problems, I learned to accept all reports with a grain of salt. I had to listen with a “third ear” for the feelings and hidden agendas behind each statement.

In many ways I proceeded like Abraham, seeking to follow God’s will but not knowing fully where I was going. My age, 50, was a definite asset. Had I been 35 or 40, I doubt if I would have survived, even if others might have. I underscore this point because so many churches believe that youth is a greater asset than experience. In any event, the problems I had gone through in three previous pastorates helped me to listen better and also to retain my hope for a positive resolution.

Leadership Strategies

I did, however, take some specific steps to rebuild trust in the pastoral office and unity in the church. These principles guided me.

Work with the formal power structure. Before I accepted the call as pastor, I asked the search committee to call a meeting of the twenty-one active deacons. At that meeting I began to build bridges with this vital group of leaders. Although I had every reason to believe the congregation would call me on the recommendation of the search committee, I felt I needed feedback from a larger segment of the church leadership. I also wanted them to have a sense of ownership in the selection of the pastor.

Shortly after I arrived, I scheduled an overnight retreat with the deacons to deal with whether to keep the two staff members who had survived the conflict. I decided to ask the deacons, rather than the personnel committee, to make the decision. Most of the standing committees were severely weakened by the exodus of trained leaders during the conflict, and therefore, the real power was with the deacons.

I indicated to the deacons that the decision had to be theirs; I was not going to decide for them. One deacon took me aside before the retreat and said, “Dick, you must be prepared to share your views. The deacons are looking to you for guidance.” I assured him I would share my views, but the deacons had to make the final decision.

The retreat proved exhausting. The first session on Friday evening went until midnight, and many of the deacons continued their discussions until 2 or 3 A.M.

On Saturday morning after prayer time and a devotional, we tested for a consensus. There was none. All of us were emotionally drained and discouraged. At that point I spoke up and told the group what the one deacon had asked me. I repeated that I was not going to make the decision for them but would at that time express my views. I made three specific recommendations: (1) that both the associate pastor and the part-time minister of music remain, because I needed their help, and it was unfair to dismiss them without notice because of the church’s financial problems; (2) that the associate pastor and his wife, recently separated, be given our love and support in this difficult time in their lives; (3) that the position of the associate pastor be reevaluated after one year. These provided the catalyst for further discussion, and we decided unanimously to present these recommendations to the church.

The recommendations were accepted with little discussion by the congregation. This was to be the pattern at the monthly church business meetings for several years to come. The church members were so tired of fighting that they would not voice any opposition or offer any suggestions. To those familiar with congregational meetings, this appears to be a godsend! It is only in part. You are left with no feedback, so it is hard to develop strategies and programs for which the members have any enthusiasm or sense of ownership.

I continued to use the deacons for several years as the primary, if not the only, decision-making group in the church. Today, however, the deacons are involved in family ministry and spiritual growth. The various committees-finance, personnel, missions, building and grounds, and others-are again functioning well and carry out their assignments with minimal input from the deacons.

Focus on the pastoral basics, preaching and visitation, rather than initiate new programs. At the first deacons’ meeting, I outlined my priorities. First, I would spend the greater portion of my time in visitation; specifically, my wife, Anne, and I planned to visit each deacon. Second, I would focus on my preaching. I stated also that I would not get involved in rebuilding or strengthening church programs. (However, three months later I did outline and execute a series of mini-retreats for middle school, high school, and college students, because I sensed the young people desperately needed pastoral care.)

Preaching and visitation are essential in any pastorate, but in a broken church, their need is magnified. At Suburban, the members needed to hear the good news of God’s love and power, to have their hope renewed, and to experience human concern and love. These aims can be best achieved through preaching and visitation.

A serendipity of my announcement that Anne and I would be visiting in the homes of the deacons was that many invited us for a meal. This meant there was the double benefit of giving and receiving love.

Combat the spirit of failure through constant encouragement. I’m not by nature a glad-hander and ego builder. I don’t make it a practice to write in my pastor’s paragraphs how great the church is and how great the services have been until it begins to grate. My preaching style tends rather to be “afflicting the comfortable.” However, four years before coming to Suburban I heard a series of lectures that taught we needed to model our preaching after Isaiah’s words, “Comfort ye, comfort ye my people.” At first I rebelled against that suggestion, but later I turned to it more and more.

Twice I preached on Barnabas, “one who encourages,” and how he was an example of what we should be. The response was overwhelming, and people realized they needed to encourage one another.

To help the church feel it had a viable place in the community, I initiated an annual “Inter-Church Conference,” to which all the local churches were invited. We brought in major speakers and underwrote the expenses. As the conferences were enthusiastically received by others in the community, people in the church began to feel encouraged that they did have something to offer.

I felt instilling a spirit of encouragement was so important that one time I confronted the deacons about their discouragement. I suggested that they were not inviting anyone to church because they were ashamed of our church. Most agreed I was on target.

Help the church to focus outward. A fourth strategy was to encourage the church to focus on missions. Because my parents were missionaries for forty years, I have a strong commitment to missions, and I found the congregation already had several missions interests that I was able to nurture.

Missionary couples were invited to our church; one spent a whole week teaching all age groups, including adults, during our Vacation Bible School. Local mission needs were identified as well, and Suburban took the leadership in providing help to an unexpected influx of refugees. These efforts resulted in a dramatic increase in missions giving.

Celebrate. A broken church needs to focus on occasions when it can celebrate the blessings of God. We held services in which we focused on God’s goodness in the lives of individuals. We took time to express publicly our thanks for the service of various members and staff. When our church reached its centennial, we held a year-long celebration that included historical pageants, the writing of the history of the church, a homecoming Sunday, and a centennial banquet.

Personal Survival Tactics

In pastoring a hurting church, you expend so much that personal survival tactics are as important as leadership strategies, perhaps more so.

My first survival tactic was a redoubling of my efforts in personal spiritual growth. I had been aware for many years that I was often more concerned about leading worship than in participating in it. Anne gave me a framed copy of a prayer by Martin Luther that I pray before every service:

“O Lord God, Thou hast made me a pastor and teacher in the church. Thou seest how unfit I am to administer rightly this great responsible office; and had I been without Thy aid and counsel I would surely have ruined it long ago. Therefore do I invoke Thee. How gladly do I desire to yield and consecrate my heart and mouth to this ministry. I desire to teach the congregation. I, too, desire ever to learn and to keep Thy Word my constant companion and to meditate thereupon earnestly. Use me as Thy instrument in Thy service. Only do not Thou forsake me, for if I am left to myself, I will certainly bring it all to destruction. Amen.”

I requested the deacons meet with me for prayer prior to the service. Some saw it as a spiritual crutch and resisted the idea at first, but today “prayer with the pastor” is an important part of the role of the deacons.

I find myself spending more and more time in prayer-on prayer retreats, on Saturday evenings in the dark sanctuary. I have not been alone in trying to grow spiritually. One member in writing her recollection of the key events over the past years concluded by saying, “There is now a solid foundation being built in regard to the spiritual life-prayer, meditation, and Bible study.”

A second strategy was to be more open and to ask for help from the church members. My first major attempt at this came at the time of the marriage of our daughter. She was not known to the members of the church because she had already established her own career and home before we moved to Suburban. I announced she was to be married in another state and that Anne would be gone for a couple of weeks to help in the preparation of the wedding. I would follow later to perform the ceremony.

I received no response from the congregation. No one seemed to be interested. I had tried to “weep with those who weep, and to rejoice with those who rejoice,” but now those whom I had tried to serve were letting me down. I felt hurt and angry. While jogging late one evening, I decided to go to one of the families in the church and talk about it. The family listened to me, and they contacted others. By the time I left for the wedding, there was an outpouring of love through various words and deeds.

On the Sunday I returned, I preached on “Carry One Another’s Burdens.” It was to have been just another sermon, but somehow I was able to confess how hurt I had been, and also how much I had been helped by their love and support. I stood before the members of the church at the time of the altar call and said, “I need you, and I thank you for your love.” Many still speak of that worship hour as one of the highlights of the past twelve years. “Carry One Another’s Burdens” has become something of a motto for many in the congregation.

I have also given attention to the many other sources of renewal for a pastor: continuing education; outside interests such as writing, teaching, and speaking; travel; ministerial peer groups; exercise. Each has helped me stay in the saddle.

It “Took Far Longer”

I showed what I have written to one member and asked for comments. The member said, “Your strategies, conscious or not, worked, but the healing process took far longer than any of us would have thought.” The key words are not only worked but also took far longer.

There is yet much that needs to be done. Twelve years later we are still suffering from lack of leadership. Many dedicated members have done too much and have burned out. At times some members have had an Elijah complex-“I alone am left.” I have hurt some members-unintentionally, I hope. Some members have left the church because they felt they couldn’t work with me, and certainly many opportunities for ministry have not been seized.

But the healing process continues. Our church just finished a six-month search for a second associate pastor. The meetings of the personnel committee were marked by frank discussions; the committee members expressed their views and didn’t feel compelled to acquiesce to my views. I saw in the process that the church leaders are accepting greater responsibility for decisions. We are working as colleagues with mutual trust.

I knew real healing had taken place when the man who accosted me as I was jogging joined the church-ten years after our first meeting. Now he is active in worship, Bible study, prayer, and service.

Richard Porter is a pen name for a pastor in the eastern United States.