Sometimes the church that seems the perfect fit doesn’t want to try us on. And sometimes the church that seems wrong turns out to be ever so right. A call to a specific church can be as mysterious as a call to ministry.
—Ed Bratcher
After finishing two years of advanced research at Louisville Seminary, I was contacted by several churches, one of which particularly attracted me. So I sent my résumé, held conversations with the church, and talked with people who knew something about it. I anticipated eagerly the possibility of going there. But they didn’t choose me as their pastor.
Eventually, a church in Manassas, Virginia, called me. At first, though, I wanted nothing to do with it. Marjie and I had seen the tremendous pressure on the lives of the many professionals in the community, and we said, “No way!” We’d never lived in a community like that. Add to that the lack of unity in the congregation, and I didn’t think I could pastor effectively there.
But Marjie and I were part of a support group in Louisville at the time, and when we told them about the church in Manassas and all our reasons for turning it down, the group was unanimous: “As we see you and your gifts, we think you can minister there. We encourage you to consider going.” So we did.
Sometimes the church that seems the perfect fit doesn’t want to try us on. And sometimes the church that seems wrong turns out to be ever so right. A call to a specific church can be as mysterious as a call to ministry.
Although God’s leading is difficult to determine in such matters, it’s not impossible. When we consider prayerfully the following factors, I believe we can get a better handle on where God is calling us.
When Not to Leave
During my ministry, I found that when my own church was experiencing troubles, I was tempted to seek a new church. Eventually though, I realized I should wait until my church was doing well before I moved on.
Some people think I had it backwards. If everything is going well and ministry is fruitful, why leave? Conversely, if things are going downhill, isn’t that a sign we are no longer effective and ought to move on?
Perhaps, but I decided never to leave a situation simply because I was facing difficulties. Consequently, in my ministry, and especially during conflict, I tried to remember the following guidelines:
• Don’t leave in the midst of major conflicts. Naturally, there are always conflicts in a church. Pastors can’t please everybody. But I felt any major conflicts should be worked through before a move is considered. Realistically, of course, this is not always possible, but I always felt I should try.
• Don’t leave because you’re depressed. Depression is a common problem among ministers, but it’s a poor reason to leave a church. I decided if I were struggling with persistent or severe feelings of depression, I’d seek professional help before writing a resignation letter.
• Don’t leave just because you’re being criticized. When Martin Luther King, Jr., was assassinated, the ministers in our community decided to have a memorial service. Since our church had the largest sanctuary in town, I offered to hold the service there.
Some months later, at one of our congregational business meetings, a motion was made for my dismissal because I had failed to get proper permission from the buildings and grounds committee to hold the memorial service at our church. It was evident in the ensuing discussion that the real issue was my position on race relations, but the issue was raised as a question of procedure. The motion failed because, in fact, I had called the chairman of the buildings and grounds committee before the service and asked his advice.
But because the discussion of the motion was so heated, Marjie and I had some doubts. Later we went to a couple in the church and asked, “Do you think our time has ended here?” They told us to stick it out.
Several years later, we invited some deacons from other local churches to help serve Communion at a Maundy Thursday service. One of the deacons from our church was also our custodian, a black man, and no one offered any criticism. The congregation had reached a point where race relations were not the sore point they used to be.
So, I’m glad I didn’t run when the first shot was fired.
• Don’t leave when the church is in deep debt. I know a pastor who didn’t want to face up to dealing with his church’s indebtedness, so he headed off to another congregation—with devastating consequences for the church he left behind. So I consider the financial situation of the church I’m thinking of leaving before deciding to move on.
The second church I pastored was in the small Kentucky town of West Point, on the Ohio River. When my wife and I moved into the parsonage, which had been built in 1937 for five hundred dollars, we could see grass growing through cracks in the floor.
So the church borrowed five thousand dollars—a lot of money in 1950, especially for that church—to build a new parsonage. In addition, like many small churches, it had seen many pastors in its history, thirty-nine in fifty years. So it was difficult for them to make a financial commitment like that.
Three years later, when I had finished my Ph.D., I was ready to move on. But we still hadn’t paid off the five thousand dollar loan for the parsonage. So I decided to stay for another year while we paid off the mortgage. Only then did I feel free to go.
• Don’t leave just because a larger church is interested in you. This becomes a special temptation when we’re facing difficulties in our church. Often our self-worth gets tied to our pastoral success, and our success is often tied to the size of our church.
However, I was able to curb my ambition, at least to some degree, by remembering a simple statistic: 80 percent of all churches have fewer than two hundred members. So I knew I had to be realistic: most pastors are not going to end up in a large church.
I also think of several young men I’ve known who went up the ladder of success too fast and just burned out. They never stayed anywhere long enough to mature and become the capable individuals they could be.
In addition, Jesus taught we have to be faithful in the little tasks before he can trust us with the big ones. One of those little tasks, I believed, was settling problems in one church before moving on.
Even if I was eventually to be called to a larger church, I didn’t want to shortchange smaller churches along the way, by either leaving too soon or by treating them as mere way stations to a more important calling.
When Definitely to Leave
Nonetheless, there are many good reasons to seek a new call: to develop new ministry gifts, to change the focus of one’s ministry, to move closer to extended family, to combine the pursuit of studies, among others. But there is one time when moving is not merely desirable but urgent.
My first pastorate was in a church near the town of Lawrenceburg, Indiana. The largest employer in Lawrenceburg was a distillery, and many of my parishioners worked there. Most of them were plumbers who attended to the pipes through which distillery liquids of all sorts run.
These people were personally against the use of alcohol but worked at the distillery because (a) if they didn’t, somebody else would anyway, and (b) they were better able to provide for their families in the distillery than elsewhere in the community.
I had some reservations at the time I accepted the call. And after several months, I became extremely uncomfortable, because my salary was being paid, in essence, by the distillery. I made the difficult decision to resign, because I was afraid if I compromised what I believed to be right, I would soon start compromising myself in other areas.
In some cases then, the call to move may begin with the personal values God has planted in us. Each of us has issues about which we won’t compromise. And if the community or church asks us to compromise, we know what to do.
Whatever the reason, when we’ve decided to seek a new call, a number of issues should be considered. The following were some of the most important to me.
People and Prayer
In seeking a specific call, I’ve often wondered how much to rely on human initiative and how much on God’s initiative. I’ve been tempted by two extremes: to sell myself by playing politics or to become completely passive, thinking, God wants to call me to a particular church, he’ll make sure it finds me.
In the end, I’ve not been comfortable with either extreme. On the one hand, I think it’s inappropriate to take a hard-sell approach to candidating. On the other hand, no pulpit committee ever received a telegram from God inscribed with the name of the person to be called; I’ve had to acknowledge that human beings play their part in the process.
In my mind, the ideal procedure works like this: I learn about a particular church and feel I understand some of its pressures and dynamics. I believe I am sensitive to the needs of the people and have gifts to help address those needs. So, either directly or through a friend, I present my résumé to the search committee, saying, “I believe I have the gifts and training to work in this situation, and I would like to work with you in seeking God’s will.”
I would discuss openly with the committee who I am and what gifts I have. In turn, I would encourage the committee to be open with me. There would be no manipulation or posturing. Together we would pray and seek divine guidance. That, to me, maintains the balance between the human and divine elements of a specific call.
Integrity Is the Best Policy
I’ve tried to follow a number of do’s and don’ts in seeking a call, but all of them boil down to maintaining my integrity in the calling process.
• In my résumé, don’t blow achievements and credentials out of proportion. I’m not a chaplain to a sports team because I led a couple of their Bible studies. I don’t have an international ministry because I held a prayer meeting in a foreign country.
• Don’t use funds from my current church to make myself more marketable to a new church— like taking out large advertisements in the local newspaper with my picture prominently displayed, or printing up a church brochure that emphasized my credentials.
• Don’t flood my friends with requests to be recommended to churches without giving serious consideration to whether I could serve those churches effectively.
• Be honest with myself and others. Be honest about who I am. Be honest about my credentials and what they mean. Be honest about whether my gifts match the needs of a particular church. Be honest about what I feel God calling me to do.
Seeking a call to a church is a lot like dating. During courtship, we’re tempted to avoid revealing ourselves completely to another for fear we might be rejected. Especially when we’re strongly attracted to each other, we may never consider whether we’re a good match.
Likewise, pastoral candidates and churches do a delicate little courtship dance. The candidates often hide their true identity and fail to consider honestly the prospective church’s real situation. Sometimes we may deceive ourselves, thinking, I wasn’t able to handle that (e.g., administration or calling) in the past, but this situation will be different.
At least during courtship, we have enough time to become honest with our loved one before we get married. In the calling of a pastor, things often happen quickly. So it’s vital to be honest from the beginning.
What’s Your Present Agenda?
When considering a call, we naturally consider what we want to do in a church. Sometimes we assume that we want to do what we’ve done well, using our gifts and expertise. But in my ministry, my interests often shifted. So part of the process of deciding a call involved deciding what I wanted to do in that call.
When I pastored churches in Austin, Texas, and Kansas City, I enjoyed working with building committees and constructing new sanctuaries. But by the time I went to Waynesboro, Virginia, I was ready to concentrate on preaching.
In Austin, Kansas City, and Waynesboro I actively advocated integration and acceptance of blacks. Later, although I remained committed to the same ideals, I no longer devoted such a large part of my time to race relations. That’s one reason I finally turned down a church in Virginia that contacted me about serving as their pastor.
The church was located in a silk-stocking district that had succumbed to urban decay; most members of the congregation had moved to the suburbs. In addition, a significant black Baptist church was located just three blocks away.
When I spoke to the pulpit committee, I asked how much contact they had with this black church and how open they were to working with it to minister to the neighborhood. They said they weren’t at all interested.
It was clear their views on working with the black church didn’t mesh with mine. Furthermore, I didn’t feel called to continue advocating integration and racial harmony with the same intensity. Seeing this was what was needed there, I decided it would be wrong for me to serve as their pastor.
All in the Family
I once received a call from a woman whose husband had just accepted a position that involved relocation. She was devastated. Her husband was convinced it was God’s call, but she was totally unprepared for it. She wanted to support her husband but didn’t think she could. They were at an impasse.
This is an easy trap to fall into. It was for me, anyway, particularly when the children were small.
Even though our whole family had been happy at our church in Austin, when I received an invitation from the Kansas City church, I was sure it was the place to go. But once we arrived, I realized my family was having trouble with the change. The people weren’t as open and cordial as they had been in the Southwest, our children disliked the school system, and my wife had the added pressure of caring for my mother, who since our move had come to live with us.
Realizing my responsibilities as a Christian husband and father, I talked to my brothers about making other arrangements for my mother and opened myself to the possibility of another call.
After that, as I considered any move, I tried to ask myself questions like these: Can my spouse be happy in this church or community? How will a move—or stay—affect our children? Will I be able to support my family adequately—emotionally and financially? And of course, these questions require a lot of discussion not only with one’s spouse but with the children as well.
Consider the Joy
I think it’s legitimate to consider how much enjoyment and fulfillment we are likely to find in a particular church. When the Manassas pulpit committee interviewed me, I told them I was considering writing a book on pastor-church relations and wanted to be able to participate in related conferences and seminars. When I asked if they would be comfortable with this, they said yes. If they had said no, I may not have accepted that call. Researching and writing that book was something I eagerly looked forward to.
As it turned out, I couldn’t have finished that book without the encouragement of the deacons of that church. One deacon in particular would often ask, “How much writing have you done lately?” When I would explain that I had been busy with this and that, she would say, “Those other things will still be there. You’re supposed to be writing.”
So I’m glad I had an agreement with that church not only about my pastoral duties but also about activities that would bring me joy.
Social Setting Makes a Difference
I knew a capable pastor who left an established church in a county seat in Arkansas for a church in Austin. He had a newspaper column in Arkansas and was well recognized throughout the state. But when he got to Austin, he was a small fish in a big pond. And having become accustomed to pastoring an established church that moved along gently, he now had to think about the needs of a new and growing congregation. It was such a drastic change, he was never able to adjust.
I also knew a pastor who had moved from a church in a blue-collar community, where he had been highly effective, to a congregation of high-powered professionals. The pressures and needs of the people in his new church were substantially different and he didn’t know how to communicate with them. He was a gifted pastor, but he just wasn’t cut out for that kind of congregation.
Consequently, when it was time for me to consider a new call, I thought deeply about the type of setting in which I could thrive, and especially about those in which I couldn’t.
God’s Call in Retrospect
These are just some of the factors to consider in deciding a call, and I’ve not even touched on financial packages and congregational history and a dozen other aspects. But after we sift through these many, many questions, we then have to determine God’s call as best we can. I say that because often we must decide on faith and can only see God’s hand clearly in retrospect.
When it gets down to it, we’re in the same situation as Abraham. Hebrews says he went out not knowing where he was going. And that’s often true for us: we know we’re called, we try to discern the call as best we can, but often we don’t know where we’re going. More often than not, it’s only later that we see God’s agenda.
In the meantime, even though we see through a glass darkly, we are called lo persist in looking for the beckoning of God’s hand.
Copyright © 1991 by Christianity Today
