There is no guarantee that spiritually mature people will work well together.
—Larry Osborne
When I entered the pastorate, I had a good understanding of original sin. Six months later, I had an excellent understanding of original sin.
I had arrived only a few weeks after the departure of the founding pastor. He was well-loved and had left on the best of terms to pursue a doctorate and a career in seminary teaching. We were just a small group meeting in a high school cafeteria, but I thought we had great potential. I was particularly impressed by the unity and quality of relationships I found. My call had been unanimous. It looked as if we were ready to roll.
There was just one problem.
I had failed to take into account the simple fact that when no one wants the previous pastor to leave, no one really wants the new one to come (no matter how unanimous the vote). I was, at best, their second choice. At worst (at least, whenever I tried to change something), I was a barbarian invader.
Needless to say, my honeymoon was short. People were literally leaving as fast as they came in. In a six-week period, we gained ten new families—only to lose ten families that just months before had voted for me to become their pastor.
I was devastated. I worried a great deal about being fired. I often asked myself, What will I do when the ax drops? Will I give the ministry another shot—or more important, will anyone give me another shot? I didn’t know.
Fortunately, that never happened. Now, nearly fifteen years later, a church that was once a battleground has become known for its absence of conflict. That’s a testimony to the Lord’s redemptive power and grace. But on a human level, some important changes helped make a difference.
No monolith
One important change was that I stopped treating the church as if it were a monolithic organization. Like most churches, we are made up of three distinct groups, and each is prone to its own conflict. Each needs a unique strategy for preempting conflict (or to put a more positive spin on it, for building and maintaining unity). These three groups are:
1. the congregation
2. the governing board
3. the staff
Early on, I missed this. I thought unity was something the entire church either lacked or enjoyed.
I didn’t realize I could have a brewing disaster on the board despite a happy congregation and staff; or that a few disgruntled staff members could sabotage the unity within the board and congregation; or that a congregational uprising was possible even if the staff and board were on the same page.
I now know better. As a result, I try to keep tabs on the health of each group. In addition, we’ve developed specific tools and guidelines to help preempt conflict within each of the three groups.
Preempting congregational conflict
The most effective tool I’ve found for preempting congregational conflict is what I call a “Front-Loaded Pastor’s Class.”
It is not a membership class. The typical membership class is designed for those who have been around long enough to decide they want to join the church. A front-loaded pastor’s class is designed for those who are new to the church and simply want to find out what it’s about. We describe ours as a look at “why we do what we do the way we do it.” Those who come have been at the church only a short while; they are far from ready to commit to membership.
Especially for people who transfer from another church, the class is our most effective tool for preempting future conflict. Here’s why.
When most people change churches (for example, due to a move or a problem in a previous church), they bring to their new church expectations and assumptions. If they like the new church’s preaching, worship, and people, they settle in, assuming the new church uses the same compass as their old church. But such is not always the case.
I think of a church that grew from 300 to 1,200 in five years. But at least two-thirds of the growth was transfer growth fueled by internal strife at three other churches in the area. When I talked to the pastor, he was ecstatic over the influx of people already eager to serve and willing to give. He felt he now had the type of people he could build a ministry upon.
Perhaps he did. But he also had a large group of people with their own ideas of what his church should be—and the assumption that he shared those notions. For a while, that was no big deal. Then came the day when he recommended the church hire a music director who happened to be previously divorced.
The pastor and those who had been around from the beginning lined up on one side. For them, the divorce issue had been settled years before when a divorced-and-remarried man was appointed to the board. The pastor had clearly addressed the issue when he candidated for the position.
But for the folks who had transferred in (especially those who had come from one of the churches), accepting a divorced leader was tantamount to denying the faith. They came from a background in which divorce permanently disqualifies a person from ministry.
When these people came to the church, it never dawned on them that this new church could see it differently. And no one told them.
Eventually things got so bad, the pastor left. Looking back, he now realizes that in his desire to enfold people who had transferred, he understated or ignored the differences between his philosophy of ministry and that of the churches they came from.
It would have been better to candidly inform people of the differences up front. Sure, some would have left. But they would have left before they formed the webs of relationships that eventually made their leaving a tearing apart of the ministry.
That’s why one primary goal for our pastor’s class is to let everyone know what we are about. Rather than avoid controversial issues in fear of losing people, I hit the issues head on, in hopes of weeding out those people who are most likely to pick a fight in the future.
It sounds like the strategy would threaten new believers and seekers. Surprisingly, it doesn’t. Nearly 50 percent of our first-time visitors have little or no church background, but they aren’t turned off by my explanations of controversial issues. Why? Because whether we discuss worship style or lifestyle, political involvement or non-involvement, Calvinism or Arminianism, they don’t see it as a controversial issue. Only longtime Christians see these as controversial issues. New believers want to know what we believe; it’s only the folks from other churches who want to debate.
So I tell everyone up front, “Here’s what we believe, and here’s how you can expect us to behave in the future.”
For a front-loaded pastor’s class like this to succeed in preempting conflict, it has to get a high percentage of the new folks to attend. We do several things to make the class attractive to them.
The senior leader teaches the class. New folks always want to meet the head person. Those who have been around churches a long time aren’t too interested in another class on the church. They’d prefer to send a letter of transfer and get on with it. But if I teach the class, they’ll come, because they usually have a high need to know and be known by the pastor.
Many people have suggested I pass off the pastor’s class. I’ve resisted. I realize that it’s my presence that gets folks there, and no matter how tiring the classes might be, it’s a lot less exhausting to weed out “problem people” on the front end than to deal with them in the middle of a major conflict.
It’s held in a home. A second way we make the class more attractive is by holding it in a home. The home environment sets an informal, relational tone that disarms those who come with a strong agenda. In a home, people let their guard down. I’m no longer a pastoral figure on a platform; I’m a human being. That makes it easier for me to say something that goes against what a person has heard in another church. I’ve often watched in amazement as someone who came across as contentious in the lobby turned into a pussycat in our living room. The old adage says, “We fight with strangers and discuss with friends,” so I make the environment as friendly and relational as I can.
It’s held as often as possible. We hold the class often because I want people to take the class before they develop significant relationships. That way, no one settles in only to find out we are not the church he thought we were.
Surprisingly, few people who start the class leave the church. When they get a clear explanation, many who might have balked at differences climb aboard. They do so with a clear understanding of what they’re getting into. The simple concept of the front-loaded pastor’s class has virtually eliminated the conflict that arises when differing assumptions unexpectedly collide.
Preempting board conflict
Stopping conflict on the governing board requires a somewhat similar approach. We have to “guard the gate.” It’s too late to try to build unity after we’ve allowed a contentious or divisive person on the board.
Guarding the gate is delicate and dangerous. To pull it off, some key questions need to be answered.
1. What is the board’s primary purpose? Is the primary purpose of a church board representation or leadership? Our answer significantly affects our potential for unity.
Many churches have opted for the representative model. It fits well with our American democratic principles, as well as one of our most cherished doctrines, the priesthood of believers. It insures that everyone has a chance to be heard, not just those who are powerful or well-connected. And it is one way to guarantee the board stays in touch with the needs of the congregation.
But in a board of representatives, the emphasis on representing various interest groups makes it difficult to justify keeping anyone off the board. From a representative perspective, any church member, no matter how divisive, has a right to lead.
It’s also harder to come to a consensus when faced with controversial issues. By definition, a representative board seeks to protect minority opinions; this often results in a stalemate rather than a solution.
Finally, members of a representative board can start to see themselves as lobbyists. Jack may become the champion of traditional worship, while John defends the youth. Meanwhile, Susan fights for the rights of the Sunday school. Forgotten in the fray can be the most important thing: finding and carrying out God’s will.
For these reasons, and others, I’ve become a strong advocate of a leadership-oriented board. Rather than figure out what everybody wants them to do, the members of a leadership board have only one focus: finding the best course of action and following it. When faced with a difficult decision, they ask first not “how will people react?” but “what does God want us to do?”
We help to preempt board conflict when we establish the board not as representatives but as leaders.
2. What are our minimum qualifications? In many churches, anyone who faithfully supports the church and works hard eventually finds himself or herself rewarded with a seat on the board. But passages such as Acts 6, 1 Timothy 3, Titus 1, and 1 Peter 5 make it clear there are spiritual qualifications, and they don’t stop at being born again. They go way beyond to issues of character. That’s not so much a matter of what a person knows as who he is.
Some of the most self-centered and divisive people in the church are highly gifted, know the Bible inside out, and exhibit a zeal that puts most people to shame. But when they get on your board, watch out!
As important as spiritual maturity is, though, to build a harmonious and effective leadership team there are other qualifications to look for:
— Is this person in basic agreement with our current philosophy of ministry?
— Will this person fit the leadership team we’ve already assembled?
If the answer to either is no, we’ve found it is a mistake to add the person to the board, no matter how spiritually mature he might be. There is no guarantee that spiritually mature people will work well together. When their convictions are strongly held and mutually exclusive (as were Paul and Barnabas’s plans for dealing with John Mark), terrible things can happen. That’s why it’s important to have philosophical and relational qualifications as well as spiritual ones.
Imagine a pulpit committee deciding that the only qualifications necessary in a pastor were spiritual maturity and pastoral gifts. If they failed to consider the importance of a good fit with the congregation, they’d be asking for trouble. It seldom works, for example, to bring a blue-collar pastor into a white-collar congregation. Any wise pulpit committee, wanting to see a long and successful ministry, would obviously take these things into consideration. Is a good fit any less important when it comes to selecting lay leaders?
The more fully our qualifications are thought out, and the more strictly they’re held, the greater will be our chances of experiencing a harmonious and healthy board.
3. Who should guard the gate? Every church has gatekeepers, the folks who nominate. Unfortunately, even churches that are careful when choosing a governing board can be casual when deciding who will control the initial selection.
I was in one church when an announcement was made asking anyone who wanted to serve on the nominating committee to show up the next Tuesday night in the fellowship hall. Other churches throw open the process to anyone willing to come to an all-church business meeting a month before the election. Those methods will never help preempt board conflict. Why? Because no matter how out of line a nomination may be, hardly anyone will be willing to speak out against it in a public meeting.
Choosing leaders is a very selective process. The nominating committee may be the most important committee in our church, because it serves like the headwaters of a river. If there’s pollution upstream, it will eventually defile everything downstream.
One person, I believe, should always be involved in the process: the senior pastor. I realize that in some polities the pastor isn’t allowed to take an official role in the nominating process, but even in those situations, a pastor can exercise a great deal of informal influence. By definition, a healthy and effective leadership team demands a good working relationship between the pastor and the board. It seems foolish to knowingly put someone on the board with whom the pastor is at personal or philosophical odds.
I’m not suggesting the pastor hand-pick board members. But I am suggesting the pastor be given the opportunity to speak out against the nomination of someone who will cause nothing but conflict.
That opportunity will do us no good, however, if we lack the courage to use it. I’ve talked to many pastors who served as an ex-officio member of the nominating committee but felt it was inappropriate to offer input. If I’m not willing to speak up, why be there? And if I’m there and stay silent, I’m not sure I have a right to complain later about the people on the board. The nominating committee is like a wedding: speak now or forever hold my peace.
I remember the first time I vetoed a nomination. A godly man, with a totally different philosophy of leadership than the board’s, had been put forward by numerous members of the congregation. When our nominating committee came to his name, there was an uncomfortable silence. Everyone knew he wouldn’t fit the leadership team. The problems would be philosophical, not spiritual, but problems nonetheless. After what seemed like an eternity, I swallowed hard and spoke up: “I don’t think we should have him run; we’ll spend all our meetings going around in circles.” A couple of others were quick to agree. It was obvious that others felt as strongly as I did, but no one had said a word until I broke the ice.
Obviously, my decision to get involved in the process holds some risk. As one friend keeps asking, “How can you do that without being killed?” Actually, it has never created a problem, because we keep strict confidentiality. And in case members of the nominating committee forget that, I remind them before every meeting!
But I’ll admit that getting involved in the selection process can be risky for a pastor. Secrets are hard to keep, and a pastoral veto has the potential for creating hurt. So I’m always careful with what I say and how I say it. I hope things I say won’t be repeated, but I make sure I can live with them if they are.
My decision to become an outspoken member of the nominating committee didn’t come easily. It went against the advice of some of my most trusted mentors. But, after prayerful and careful consideration, I figured I had little to lose. I’d witnessed the results of silence too many times.
Preempting staff conflict
A church staff, the third area, calls for yet another approach. It’s essential to preempt conflict in the staff, for a divided staff can easily sidetrack a ministry.
When I met Ted, he was pastoring a rapidly growing church. The congregation seemed united and highly committed. Members were quick to bring friends and freely gave their money and time. Ted appeared to have close relationships with his board. In short, he had the kind of ministry that can make the rest of us struggle with jealousy.
There was just one problem. His staff was rife with conflict. Worse, he was unaware of the problem until it erupted in a coup attempt while he was away at a conference.
The coup failed. The instigator was fired, along with a couple of staff members who took his side. But the damage was done.
Shortly after the disaster, Ted admitted he had hired the wrong people. When it came time to add staff, Ted had hired helpers and “gofers” rather than leaders and co-workers.
A high-energy, hard driver, Ted loved much of the ministry, but like most pastors, he disliked parts of the job. Not wanting to waste time on those areas, he hired staff members. That took a load off his schedule, but it did nothing to build a ministry team.
By hiring helpers and gofers, Ted failed to bring aboard people he could respect and relate to. From the beginning, there was a large social and emotional distance between him and his staff. The thought of rooming with any of them for a week-long conference was depressing. They simply weren’t his kind of people.
I made this same mistake with my first hire. As soon as we had the money, I hired someone to do all the things I no longer wanted to do. Then I wondered why I had a hard time connecting with him. I didn’t realize that, by definition, anyone willing to do all the tasks I hated was not the kind of person I would draw close to.
If asked, I would have said I wanted a ministry team. But my actions showed that what I really wanted was to get out from under the load. It’s no wonder that, over time, we grew further apart. Eventually, our distance turned into enough conflict that I had to let him go.
I now look for leaders or co-workers. At times, that has meant I’ve had to hold onto tasks I would rather jettison. But the trade-off for a ministry team of peers and co-workers is well worth it—as is the absence of conflict that comes when I am leading a team instead of a work crew.
Even with the best of people, conflict can still arise, of course. But there are things I can do to lessen the likelihood. The key one is to share not just the work but also the perks.
As the church’s primary up-front leader, I receive a great deal of affirmation. It begins with the social status of the position. As a senior pastor I’m asked, “How is the ministry going?” As a youth pastor and associate, I was asked, “When are you going to get your own church?” As a senior pastor, everyone wants me to sit at the head table. As a youth pastor, few cared if I came.
Consider the traditional division of tasks between senior pastor and staff. Weddings, funerals, and preaching God’s Word all bring attention, appreciation, and gratitude. But administration, visitation, recruitment, counseling, and youth ministries often suffer from a lack of notice by any except those directly involved in the program.
All of this can generate resentment and foster rapid turnover of staff. Some of this is just the way life is. But there are a number of things I can do to make sure the perks of ministry are more evenly divided.
In our case, it begins with titles. I’m no longer the only senior pastor at North Coast. Three other members of our staff have proven themselves qualified and able to carry out the work of a senior pastor, so we call them senior pastors.
I still function as the captain of the team, but the change in titles has been significant. Titles help define role, self-image, and social status. By calling the other senior-level staff members “senior pastors,” I send a strong message both to them and the congregation.
Another area I watch is the working environment. Providing myself with a special parking space, a better computer, or nicer furniture would be culturally acceptable. But it would send a message I don’t want to send.
I also allow others to have a prominent role (or the leadership role) in highly visible and rewarding events like weddings, baptisms, and funerals. I don’t even preach all the time. Three out of ten Sunday mornings will find another of our gifted pastors in the pulpit.
What’s been the result? In the last ten years, our turnover has been practically nil. More important, so has any significant staff conflict.
I had come to the church thinking that conflict and disunity were aberrations, that good people would get along if I could get them to sit down and work through the issues. But that’s not what happens in the real world.
Conflict is inevitable, but it can be preempted and lessened in both its intensity and frequency. And that’s well worth the effort.
Copyright © 1997
