I want to be a warm and gentle pastor who comforts and the visionary leader who challenges.
— Jack Hayford
One Saturday years ago some stunning, painful news came to me. Through a counseling conversation, I discovered that a pastor in our church had fallen into adultery. Since I trusted the person giving me this information, I knew I had to act — but what should I do exactly? I didn’t want to presume his guilt; then again, if he was at fault, I had to deal with him.
The following Tuesday, that same pastor snapped at another staff member, so I decided to call him into my office to talk about that. Meanwhile, I hoped he would acknowledge his immorality in the course of the conversation.
Having known and even been involved in the training of this young man for years, I could be direct. In fact, I was pretty hard on him about his snapping remark. “We don’t treat each other like that,” I stressed. Then, spontaneously, I added, “But that’s not the only problem here, is it?”
He looked up at me, began to tremble, hung his head, and wept.
I wept with him. He was not an evil man, but he had succumbed to weakness.
In the days that followed, I walked a fine line. I needed to lead, to take a strong stand against sexual sin, both with this man in private and before the entire church. Yet I needed to be pastoral, bringing healing and restoration. Both were essential for this individual and his wife, as well as the church.
This is just one example of the tension between leading and feeding. And it is a tension.
When a pastor primarily feeds, people enjoy the church but lack a corporate sense of destiny. They graze comfortably in the valley and never climb to new heights. The church has a warm, fuzzy feeling, and people enjoy the inspiration and fellowship, but they’re not trying to achieve anything. Sheep don’t want to climb mountains. They’re happy as long as they have a patch of grass.
If a pastor emphasizes leading, on the other hand, he or she may drive the sheep into the ground, pushing them up the mountain without allowing them to stop and eat. If the flock makes it to the top, they’re dizzy with weariness, and the burnout quotient increases.
I want to be the warm and gentle pastor who comforts and the visionary leader who challenges. I’ve found, although difficult at times, it’s possible to do both.
The Difficulties
In some ways, leading and feeding can complement one another. But we should be aware of the special problems and difficulties that arise as we try to do both. Here are a few issues that challenge me.
1. Difficult people. Some people are parasites. Often something terrible happened in their past, and no matter how much attention you give them, they want more, personally, from you alone. When they touch you, you can feel the energy drain right out of you.
In dealing with such people, I am torn between caring for them and attending to the leadership tasks that benefit the entire church. I seek to show warmth and acceptance, while others with a gift for merciful ministry give greater, sustained attention to these needy, draining types.
As these individuals call the weaker person to Christian growth and discipline, I buttress their demands and declared expectations. So I’m more than just “a nice guy.” My acceptance lays a foundation for the effective ministry of mercy by others — and the tension between leading (calling to growth) and feeding (patient nurturing) is maintained.
2. Misunderstandings. When dealing with issues such as personal evangelism, faith promises for missions, tithing, or personal devotions, I cringe at the misconceptions people have. Many of their false assumptions can too easily cause misunderstandings. For instance, in each of our church services, we have twenty to forty visitors who, when I talk about money, could immediately assume, That’s what I thought. They’re after my money.
So I’ll often begin a discussion of money with a few qualifiers. “If you’re attending our church for the first time, you need to know that I do not preach about money every week. It is an important subject for every Christian, and Jesus emphasized the impact that money has on our spiritual lives, but it is not the primary subject of the Bible or of my preaching. It just so happens that I’m talking about it today. My goal in preaching about money is to strengthen you, not to fill the church coffers.”
I’m kidded in our congregation, in fact, for my lengthy preambles that try to defuse every possible objection before I get down to the business at hand. But I’m as anxious for people to know what I don’t mean as what I do mean.
3. Challenging without condemning. The last thing I want to do is condemn people. But leadership means challenging people, pointing them to a higher plateau in Christ, sustaining a Philippians 3:13, 14 “unsatisfied satisfaction.” And the more concerned a pastor is with the deeper dimensions of Christian living — commitment, discipleship, purity of life, devotion to Christ, prayer — the easier it is to dump guilt or condemnation on the flock.
I reviewed the manuscript of another writer recently. He is a younger newcomer to ministry. I noticed that his style was condescending, calling others to growth with phrases such as “Shouldn’t we as Christians do better than that?” and “You wouldn’t want to fail the Lord, would you?” The article was negative, invoking a sense of failure rather than hope.
I encouraged him, “Turn those phrases around, so you don’t invoke defeat or guilt but still call people to be responsible. That would sound something like this: ‘With the Holy Spirit indwelling us, we need never fail our Lord Jesus. In him we can do all things!'”
How to Lead in a Way That Feeds
Shepherds lead sheep from pasture to pasture, and so for them, leading is inseparably linked with feeding. I find the same is true for me if I keep the following factors in mind.
• Time the challenge. In a Wednesday night service in 1973, a week before Thanksgiving, a man gave a prophetic exhortation about our congregation’s future. We were to “intercede for America as if no one else were interceding.” (Others were, of course, but we were to pray with a sense of urgency as though no one else was.) At the time, America was embroiled in Watergate and Viet Nam, and some journalists were wondering if America would reach its two-hundredth birthday.
I felt the prophetic word forcefully confirmed in my heart, but I didn’t act on it immediately. I felt if we tried to launch a new prayer initiative in the middle of the holiday season, people would be too distracted to participate fully. I risked seeming forgetful of this word but felt the long-range call would be better served by a short-range waiting period.
The Lord confirmed my decision. I waited until after the New Year to follow through. The second Wednesday of January we began 7:14 prayer meetings (based on 2 Chronicles 7:14 — “If my people who are called by my name will humble themselves and pray …”). We gathered at 7:00, as usual, but at 7:14 each week we made extensive intercession for America.
Besides dynamic results in evidence as we prayed, further things happened. Eventually a music group from our church began traveling with the musical, “If My People,” taking the call to prayer to sixty cities. We underwrote their quarter-million-dollar budget. Over the next two years, other intercessory projects branched off into radio and television, enlisting thousands of other intercessors.
Nineteen years later, we still offer the 7:14 prayers, but all of that might never have happened if we had tried to lead the people into something new at an unsuitable time.
• Pace the challenge. In a congregation of any size, only a percentage will respond immediately to a challenge. In a church of 150, if a pastor leads strongly on an issue, probably thirty at most will respond immediately and enthusiastically. Most will eventually follow, but it will take time.
People are in various degrees of spiritual health; they differ in their ability to hear, capacity to move, and willingness to follow. I can’t lead at the pace of the fastest sheep in the flock, leaving behind the aged, the weak, or the sick. I’m obligated to lead the slower sheep as well. Congregations resembling elite Marine Corps units, which respond at a moment’s notice, just don’t exist. If I want to bring the maximum number of sheep with me, I must persuade even those who don’t bound to their feet at my first call.
Church members won’t follow if they doubt they can make it. Climbing into unknown territory is frightening. Although some followers can believe in the value of a leader’s vision, they often don’t believe they’re good enough or spiritual enough to fulfill it. They doubt themselves more than they doubt their pastor’s leadership or God’s call.
So my leading and feeding will be to no avail unless I believe in my people. I have to believe they would fly if they could, that despite their weaknesses and faults, deep down inside they want to follow Christ. My people will believe in themselves if I lead at a pace they can handle. For example, I am sensitive to how many financial appeals we make per year and how often we ask people to cut extra time in their schedule for special church activities. When they can handle the schedule and their budget absorbs their sacrificial offerings, it gives them confidence.
They’ll also believe in themselves if they are being fed. A healthy diet builds strength and brings confidence. Hunger brings a sense of defeat. If they feel defeated and hungry where they are, they’ll never go farther.
Sheep follow if they know the shepherd invariably leads to more food. A feeding shepherd, because he or she gains their trust through his servant spirit, just has to give a verbal tug on the heart, and the people follow.
For instance, recently our church purchased a church building and grounds located about a half-mile from our current church. When the idea for this purchase first came to me, two years earlier, I knew it would be difficult for many in our church to accept: “How would we coordinate activities on two separate campuses?” they would rightfully ask. “How would parents drop off their kids in one building and attend church in another, blocks away?” I realized that I would need to prepare the people ahead of time before they could even consider the purchase.
I preached a series of sermons from the Book of Joshua on the subject of possessing the land. “God has a promise and a future for each of us, and for the church corporately, but we only receive it by going in and taking possession” was my repeated theme.
Months later, when I proposed buying the church to our leaders and eventually the congregation, the themes of Joshua formed the backdrop. The congregation later followed in this challenging venture because they had been adequately fed beforehand.
This to me is where the two aspects of pastoring come together: we can lead as we feed; we can feed as we lead.
• Form enclaves for those who respond at a faster pace. For the “Marines” in our church, we provide settings where I can give a stronger challenge. I meet with one hundred young men each month to train them for leadership. I’m not gentle with them. I crowd in tight and hard in that meeting. I say things like “If you don’t believe you’re supposed to be serving this congregation, don’t even come. Those who choose to attend here have made up their minds that we are followers of Jesus Christ. We’re serious about prayer, we’re in the Word, and we’re committed to the church. We know that God wants us serving this particular church.”
I’ll talk in hard-nosed fashion about what kind of tv programs and movies the men watch, whether they laugh at the off-color jokes at work, how they manage their thought lives, especially their sexual imagination.
My leadership in this meeting isn’t diplomatic or warm, but it is accepted because of the nature of the group.
I can also talk tough with these men because I’m tough on myself — transparent about my own life. I don’t address subjects solely in terms of scriptural principles; I tell about my struggles and how I have dealt with them. I don’t act as if I have accomplished perfection.
My transparency also cultivates hope among these future leaders. They seem to reason, Jack means business. He’s learned a path of fruitfulness with God, yet he also has struggles just like I do. So if he’s struggled and overcome, then maybe I can overcome as well.
• Accept the inevitable losses. In the army, when a leader makes a command decision that sends men into battle, he knows there will be casualties. Likewise I know that any church leader’s decisions will result in some leaving — seeking a less demanding environment of commitment. I feel that loss deeply. I’ve never taken casually a person leaving the church. I want to think all our people will sooner or later follow my leadership, but that just isn’t reality.
If members choose to leave our church, though, I’ve come to believe it’s because I’m not their shepherd anymore. For whatever reason, they no longer hear the Great Shepherd’s voice through me, so I must be content that God has another place for them.
In my early years of pastoral work, when anyone left the church, it was terribly painful for me. Most likely, people left both because of my immaturity as a leader and because I served small and what were to some undesirable churches.
I know the temptation of struggling to retain people bent on leaving. I also know my personal blind-spots, my insensitivities that lead to “losing” people. I think I’ve overcome impersonal or insensitive ways and found a place of confidence in the Lord, so that if people are committed to leaving, I can “send them with blessing” rather than being pained or declaring them unreliable or disloyal.
• Keep in step with the calendar. Our church year begins in September. People return from vacations, and though busy, they are eager for new direction. My opportunity to lead them stretches from the second week in September until the middle of November. I project vision and deliver strength-building exposition at this time.
Holidays consume people’s attention from Thanksgiving through the New Year; so I seek to inspire with truth relevant to the season’s thrusts.
In January people are inclined to think about new goals and ambitions. That’s when diet programs and exercise clubs advertise heavily. In January, I usually focus my preaching on discipleship themes, and in February we emphasize world missions.
Special opportunities come with the Lenten season, as people focus on what Christ has done for them on the cross and how they should respond. I usually preach on themes like redemption’s perfect work, the promise in following Christ, and the person of Jesus.
There is a post-Easter letdown everywhere. I counter this with a strong emphasis in the weeks leading up to Pentecost. Spirit-filled living and resurrection power for service are themes here. We also make a strong emphasis on family and marriage at this time.
In early June we prepare for summer. Even though everyone will be going their separate ways, we find a way to focus on something together, usually by asking everyone to read the same book, devotionally follow the same Bible readings, and memorize the same Scriptures.
• Be aware of people’s concerns. In January of 1991 I interrupted our church plans because of the Persian Gulf War. Many had family members in the Gulf. Life was upset, and they were anxious. When something as prepossessing as a war happens, it’s time for feeding.
I preached on how we should feel toward someone as hateful as Hussein, what to do for children watching war reports on television, how to pray for the troops to be victorious without being vindictive. In addition we conducted special prayer meetings on the war.
• Listen for God’s direction. Although I’m attentive to the calendar cycles mentioned above, I don’t want to become a slave to the church calendar. God sometimes leads me to do things that counter my assumptions.
Recently as I was praying over making a financial appeal, I saw in my mind a group of people in a rubber raft being carried through white water. I have never ridden a boat through rapids, so there was no reason for such an image to come to my mind; I felt the vision was from the Lord.
The boat was navigating a canyon with no room on either side to beach. I felt impressed that God was saying our church had a lot of things happening, so it was not the time to add more. We should just hold tight.
That was a difficult decision. Two years earlier we had spent $11 million on a church and campus; so people were still affected by that. But if we didn’t challenge the congregation financially, we would lose a window of opportunity: Easter and a special denominational convention to be held at our church would soon crowd out any church business for several months.
But I decided to go with how I felt God leading me, and several weeks later, the Lord guided me to meet this need in another way. I gave myself to several weeks of prayer and then wrote a simple letter of explanation to the congregation.
In effect, I said, “We’re all busy, and I haven’t the heart to put something else on you. I’m simply asking you to pray and give as you feel directed.”
I lead as I feel God directs, but not unless he confirms his direction through our leaders. I never unilaterally follow any impressions regarding the administrative path of the church.
I followed this procedure when our church purchased the church building and campus about half a mile from us.
That process began when I received a literal “word” from the Lord. When I presented the idea to our church, however, I didn’t mention what God had revealed to me. If I had done that, the leaders might have been swayed by their trust in me and by my track record of God having led me in the past. Instead I presented the idea first to the elders of the church and to the pastoral staff, then to the 230 deacons, and finally to the congregation.
The elders appointed a task force to study the feasibility of the purchase, a committee from which I absented myself. I asked them to analyze the purchase without my input. Only after the final decision did I tell the congregation how the Lord had led me, and this only as an additional witness to them that God was in our decision. I felt that the Lord had indeed led me because their faith was aroused without any human manipulation.
The Sunday after the staff member acknowledged to me his moral failure, I announced to the congregation at the end of our morning services, “For the first time in my thirteen years as your pastor, we have had the heartbreaking experience of a moral difficulty with one of our pastoral team. We will address that tonight in our evening service.”
That night the building was packed. I taught for fifty minutes on God’s perfect design for sexual relationships and why our disobedience to that design hurts him and us. I explained what the Bible teaches about leaders who fall, about what their forgiveness does and doesn’t mean.
Then we served Communion. With the bread in my hands, I talked about the brokenness of all our lives but especially how Jesus was broken on behalf of our brokenness. “What we are expecting tonight is wholeness,” I said.
I took the cup in my hand and talked about the cleansing power of the blood of Christ.
Before we drank from the cup, I said, “The staff member who has admitted his moral failure has made clear his intention to turn from his action and seek restoration within the community life of this church.” Then I called him by name to come forward.
I could hear people quietly weeping all over the auditorium.
He spoke for a few minutes and concluded with, “I ask you all to forgive me.”
After I prayed over the cup, I put my arm around him. I asked everyone to stretch their hand toward him and in unison say, “John, I forgive you.”
Their voices thundered the response, and we drank from the cup.
No one could have left that service feeling we had swept his failure under the rug or treated it as unoffensive to God. Nor could anyone leave without feeling a holy reverence for God.
Though always in tension, leading and feeding are not in opposition. When best expressed, we lead when we feed, and we feed when we lead. You can’t fully do either alone.
Copyright © 1993 by Christianity Today
