When I have learned to do the Father’s will, I shall have fully realized my vocation on earth.
Carlo Carretto
The relocation saga begins for most pastors with a bedeviling question: “Is it time to resign my present church?” The future of one’s ministry, the trust of a congregation, the needs of spouse and children, and the opinion of peers all seem to heighten the emotional stakes and blur objectivity.
In this first chapter, Calvin C. Ratz writes candidly about the decision that brought him to his present pastorate at Abbotsford Pentecostal Assembly in British Columbia, an hour outside of Vancouver. Now in his forties, married, and the father of two children, Ratz has faced the shall-we-move? dilemma enough times in his ministerial career to have sorted out the factors and identified important questions to consider.
It happened while we were unloading the car and trailer. Our family had just spent a week sailing on Lake Champlain in Vermont, and we were in the middle of trucking dirty clothes, ice coolers, and camping gear back into our home in Montreal when the phone rang.
A man three thousand miles away whom I had never met, the chairman of a pulpit search committee, came to the point quickly: Would I consider meeting with his group to discuss becoming senior pastor of their church?
If that board could have seen me at that moment, they would have questioned their decision. I hadn’t shaved in a week; I was sweaty, dirty, and wearing a ragged pair of shorts and no shirt. I was in no condition to deal with a major spiritual decision.
Once again it was time to go through the agonizing process of determining whether to leave a congregation and assume new responsibilities elsewhere. I hadn’t sought the invitation; it had come to me. It would be a personal choice: only I could make it. Yet my wife and two children were deeply involved. Two congregations would be affected, and more. What about my commitment to co-chair the upcoming Leighton Ford Crusade in Montreal? Like it or not, I was again being thrown into a reassessment of God’s plan for my ministry.
How is such a decision made? What process does a pastor follow in coming to grips with perhaps the most crucial choice of pastoral life? And how do you do it quickly?
When an invitation comes out of the blue with a sudden phone call, the board usually wants to know within forty-eight hours if you’re willing to talk further. You may be able to do some fast scouting during those hours, calling colleagues who know the new church situation. But more than that, you have to pray and think fast. To say, “Yes, I’ll discuss it with you” means, for me, that I am at least prepared to leave my present church. I don’t want to lead them on.
And the deciding is lonely. I admire pastors whose openness permits them to share major personal decisions with their people. But I can’t do that at resignation time. Breaking away from a church is delicate for everyone concerned. Most people don’t like to see an indecisive or unsettled pastor. Congregations need to be protected if there is going to be a pastoral change. They need to know their pastor is leaving because he has received divine guidance that God is directing him elsewhere.
During that unexpected phone call from Abbotsford, I asked the usual questions. It took about twenty minutes to find out the size of the congregation, church finances, indebtedness, size of present staff, facilities, and previous pastors. I’d been through the process before and knew the information I needed.
Later, while alone in prayer, I faced the other side of the coin: leaving Montreal. Was my work done? Did God want me to accomplish more (or learn more) here? What about my unfulfilled dreams and plans for this church? I had no desire to leave. There were no major problems. I loved both the city and the congregation. The people were kind and responsive.
In the previous eighteen months, I had received inquiries from other churches. Each had been larger, offering better conditions and in some ways better prospects for building a large congregation. I had treated each one seriously and prayerfully. However, I had declined each of them.
But what about this one? Was it time to break away for a new challenge? The fact that I could look back and feel good about the previous change points of my life meant nothing now. Would this be the misstep I would live to regret? The next month was difficult, but the choice was finally made. Within two months we left for British Columbia.
A Direct Line to Heaven?
If you ask people why they move from one pastorate to another, you get a string of clichés and a pot full of piety. “I just knew God wanted me to leave.” Or, “We prayed and had a gut feeling it was God’s will.” As with most clichés, there is an aspect of truth here. We do want that inner conviction, that witness of the Spirit that we are doing the right thing.
But I’ve been around long enough to know that God, like the Devil, gets blamed for a lot of decisions he had little to do with. The truth is, we pastors do not always have a direct line to heaven. Nor are we always listening carefully to what the Spirit is saying. A great many human factors figure in the decision to leave one church for another.
It’s easy to think it’s God’s will to move on when the invitation is to a larger church, the salary and benefits are better, and you’re having problems where you are. But greener pastures are not necessarily God’s will. He may simply be using that invitation to test our resolve and determination to carry on.
How Long Is Long Enough?
We are all aware that some pastors accomplish a great deal by staying in one church a long time. My father-in-law’s most productive years came near the end of a twenty-four-year pastorate. In many church circles, pastors seem to be staying longer than in previous times. This appears to be a healthy development. It’s significant that most larger churches have been established and built by those who have stayed for decades.
Knowing this made me want to stay longer in Montreal. Shouldn’t I be the leader who would take this church on to greatness?
But on the other hand, some pastors stay too long. They hang on when in fact their ministry has peaked or been completed. Some are incapable of leading the church to its next plateau. They may have the ability to pastor a church of 150 effectively and build it to 300, but they are incapable of administering and leading a church beyond that. Yet they stay. They fail to recognize their own limitations. Their ego says they can do it all.
A great deal of insecurity is wrapped up in overstaying: the anxiety in facing a new city and congregation … the fear of breaking relationships and starting over.
There is no simple formula for how long to stay before moving on. Who of us can declare unequivocally, “So-and-so stayed too long” or “left too soon”? We may have our private opinions, but we also know we could be mistaken.
If we are less than sure about the other fellow’s tenure, how much more about our own? Each pastorate is different. Pioneering a congregation is not the same as caring for an established church. Rural, suburban, and inner-city churches differ. Our ministerial gifts vary. The person with a teaching/pastoral ministry will tend to last longer than someone whose ministry is more prophetic or evangelistic. Still, we can’t plug all the descriptors into a computer and get a divine print-out.
Factors in God’s Timing
So how do we decide? Do we discover God’s will only on our knees in a quiet office, or does God use other ways to tell us to move on? Does he not frequently indicate his plan through circumstances and then later confirm it with an inner spiritual conviction?
I believe God’s will, usually, is the logical thing to do. Therefore, here are some factors I consider when evaluating a possible change.
• Major problems in the present church. I don’t mean routine snags. You can’t run away every time things don’t go your way. Problems are challenges to overcome. By handling them, our ministry grows and our relationship with God becomes more precious. One chronic troublemaker in a church usually isn’t reason for leaving. Every congregation has its quota of grace-builders, and while it is a delight to leave them behind when you move on, the Lord has prepared more of the same in the next congregation!
But major personality conflicts, congregational dissatisfaction, or tension with a board may mean something more. If I need to take a vote of confidence to know where I stand with the people, chances are it’s time to start packing. Taking a vote will likely only divide the people further. I’m already in trouble!
Regardless of who is at fault, persistent problems may be indicators that it is time to seek another pastorate. The church may simply have situations beyond my ability to handle. I’m in over my head. The situation may need someone with ministerial gifts I don’t have.
A friend of mine has struggled with this. He’s had a successful term as pastor, but things have come unglued lately. He’s prepared to leave, but his ego wants to stay and solve the problem so he can go out a winner. He doesn’t realize that by staying he’s only compounding the difficulties.
God’s will became clear in one of our major moves through a situation my wife and I faced. We were overseas in our second missionary term and were excited about the overall task. However, week-to-week functioning was another matter, and I found myself frustrated with decisions and events beyond my control. I saw that this was not a personality problem; it was rather a disagreement about policy.
I was prepared to sacrifice my life but not to waste it. In this setting, God’s will became apparent. It was time to cut loose.
While insurmountable problems may be an indicator that it’s time to move on, success is no reason to stay. Some have argued that things are going so well it would be wrong to leave. Yet God moved Philip out of Samaria in the middle of a great revival. The absence of problems is no reason to stay put.
• Ministerial exhaustion. Every pastorate includes stress. But there are times when we are called to deal with unusually tough situations that tax all our spiritual and emotional strength.
A close friend of mine recently went through such a situation. An adulterous relationship in his church involved a senior board member and a woman from a prominent family. The pastor dealt with them prayerfully and wisely. Innocent parties were protected, hurt spouses were counseled, and the offending parties confronted. But the process of discipline, counseling, and rehabilitation took a year. When it was over, though my friend had performed admirably and had retained the people’s confidence, he was emotionally and spiritually drained. There was nothing left to give on Sunday mornings. He needed a fresh start.
Others have felt the same at the end of a building program. The months of worrying and wrangling with contractors, blueprints, and committees have taken a heavy toll. The pastor quietly vows to work smarter next time. He knows he should stay for at least another year and help the congregation cope with its new mortgage. But he is out of gas.
Some young preachers tell their people everything they know in eighteen months. Though they study and search for sermon material, because of their inexperience, they come up with little. To carry on indefinitely can hardly be God’s will when additional training or perhaps an assistant pastorate is indicated.
Another variation of this comes simply in the flow of one’s ministry and the cycles of a church. One pastor told me recently, “I had completed my major goals and plans. It was time for the church to move on to its next phase of development. I either had to catch a new vision or leave. I chose to leave.”
Many pastors are able to sense this. Others can’t. Some are such visionaries they will never complete their ideas. For them to wait for the end of a cycle would mean they would never move. Others might not move because they simply don’t have the ability to complete their present dreams.
• Financial pressures. If a pastor is struggling to keep bread on the table, God may reward faithfulness by raising a new opportunity that will provide for the family. It’s time we got off the guilt trip that a move to another church where we will be better cared for is all wrong. We are not in this work for the money. But God does know our needs and takes note of our faithfulness.
• Family circumstance. Most of us Protestant clergy face an extra consideration: Our ministry location affects not only ourselves but also our families. The decision to leave a community is a big factor in both the education and social development of our children. Any father, ordained or not, who does not consider the implications of a move for his family is neither loving nor true to the Scripture.
Some of my friends suggest that if it’s God’s will for you to move, he will take care of your family no matter when or where you go. That is true—if the move is his intention. What some forget, though, is that the social, spiritual, and educational needs of a pastor’s family can be an indicator of God’s will! God can speak through the needs of a wife or a child as well as through times alone in the prayer closet.
• Larger opportunity. First, let me state that the concept of promotion or career advancement is a secular notion and is foreign to the New Testament concept of ministry. There is no spiritual totem pole to climb. God is looking for faithfulness where we are. More than one pastor, however, thinks that if a larger church beckons, it must be a signal that he is God’s man of faith and power for the hour. It’s not always so.
However, as our ministries mature, God does place us in positions of greater responsibility. As our ability develops to handle larger churches, administer more complexity, and speak to more diverse congregations, God does open up new areas of service. And that frequently means calling in the moving van.
No place of ministry should be belittled. No location is insignificant or deserving of less than a pastor’s best. But as our ministry gifts mature, we can become frustrated if there is not a sufficient outlet to release them.
I experienced this in the months prior to one move. Things were going well. The programs I was responsible for were expanding and were well received. There was good rapport with the congregation. But a nagging sense came that God wanted me to use certain ministry gifts that had no present opportunity. I was locked in. This growing spiritual frustration indicated it was time to move on.
Confirmation came one Sunday morning while leading the congregation in worship. No one in the sanctuary was aware of it, but as we sang “He Leadeth Me,” the words “By his own hand, he leadeth me …” bore special application. It wasn’t a human emotion but a divine impression. I knew in that moment that God knew where I was, that he understood my ministry, and that he had a plan for my future. It was just a matter of days until the phone rang with the next invitation.
Hearing God’s Voice
After weighing all the factors, there is still one intangible element. It is the most important. We can list all the pros and cons on a sheet of paper (as I have done occasionally), but if we want to function in the pattern of New Testament ministry, we still have to hear God’s voice.
It’s difficult to explain that subjective conviction. Yet as surely as God’s Spirit directed Paul away from Asia and Bithynia but on to Macedonia, so God guides his people today.
I learned this after finishing my theological training. Faced with the choice of beginning pastoral work or furthering my education, I sought counsel from friends and competent leaders. The advice split right down the middle.
That summer I spent a week at a camp counseling teenagers. Little did they know the struggle I was going through. I shared it with no one, but I fasted the main meal each day and spent the time in personal prayer. By Friday, I knew what I should do. There was no bright light flashing. A bird did not come and whisper a divine message in my ear. But there was a burning conviction that I should go back to the university. And there was peace in my spirit.
My mother taught me another good lesson in decision making. Once I had two options to consider. Both were challenging situations and presented exciting possibilities. For some time I couldn’t make up my mind. My head said one thing, my heart said another. In talking with my parents, my mother commented, “I don’t know what you will do, Cal, but I know you will do the right thing.”
At first I brushed it off as the confidence any mother would have in her son. But that wasn’t what she meant. She went on to explain, “If your motives are right, and you are prayerful in making the decision, God will not let you make a mistake.”
She was right. If you honestly want to move in God’s will, he won’t let you foul up a decision that affects his church.
That doesn’t mean all will turn out glowingly. There may be hard times ahead in the church to which we are sure God sent us. Our ministry may even be rejected there after a while. But we will not be outside the larger channel of God’s purpose for our shaping and growth.
Recently, I faced the decision to move again. Several ministerial peers put considerable pressure on me to accept the nomination for a full-time position on the general executive of our Canadian fellowship of churches. The post carries great responsibility, considerable prestige, and challenge. It was tempting. But despite its significance and the urging of others, I turned it down. It wasn’t God’s time to leave. An inner conviction said I should stay.
Ultimately this is a step of faith. The world calls it biting the bullet. For most of us, it is a difficult time. There is no joy in it, but it is part of God’s calling.
At some time prior to entering public ministry, most of us had a confrontation with God. We dealt with self and pride. If we were serious about our faith, we made Jesus our Lord and entered a servant-Master relationship. From that point on, it doesn’t matter where we’re located geographically. What others think is not important. Personal comfort is secondary. Prestige and large crowds are not determining factors. Loyalty and obedience are. Doing God’s will is all that matters.
“The sheep listen to his voice. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. When he has brought out all his own, he goes on ahead of them, and his sheep follow him because they know his voice” (John 10:3-4).
This is what determines the time to move. His voice. His will.
Copyright © 1985 Christianity Today
