The idea of pastoral authority can seem abstract—until it’s challenged. Suddenly its presence or absence is unmistakable. That’s why we sought out a diverse group of pastors to tell us about how they responded to being undermined. We wanted to see how authority is exercised in the most crucial circumstance: when it’s under fire.
Firm and Balanced
In 35 years of ministry, I’ve witnessed the extremes of pastoral authority.
On one end of the spectrum is the pastor who has no authority. This pastor functions as a “hired gun” installed by a board that micromanages his message and methodology, leaving him feeling weak and unable to pursue his calling with passion.
The other extreme is the pastor whose authority borders on “monarchial.” This kind of pastor controls every detail of his congregants’ lives, even what they wear. His control goes far beyond that which is biblical.
What we need is pastoral authority that is biblical and balanced. This type of authority accomplishes what God has called us to do and nothing more. We don’t need a vision for all of our parishioners’ careers and relationships; they do. We need a vision for the work of God and enough authority to protect that work from derailment.
I have had my authority challenged on occasion. When necessary I have been quite forceful with those seeking to damage what God has entrusted to me.
One time I asked one of our young ministers to decline a preaching invitation elsewhere when I needed him to serve at our home church. The young man responded belligerently, “I don’t have time to serve this vision. In two years, I will be where you are.”
I confiscated his keys, and we parted ways.
In the ten years since, that impetuous young pastor has not reached the lofty heights he envisioned. Rebellion is not God’s way of preparation for effectiveness. He later returned to apologize, having reaped what he had sown.
Pastors are beloved so long as we do what people want us to do. The moment we don’t, our authority may be challenged. But remember, we aren’t politicians elected to do the will of the people. We are called to do the will and work of God.
We certainly don’t need dictator-types leading God’s people, but I believe that sheep are comforted and protected by a brave shepherd’s staff and rod. We protect the sheep from wolves that would destroy. I wielded the rod when I had to chasten a guest speaker who took more liberty with my congregation than I believed was appropriate, and when I removed a woman who attempted to disrupt our service with her practice of black magic.
Remember, we aren’t politicians elected to do the will of the people. We are called to the will and work of God.
Our model is Christ, who knew when to be a lion and when to be the lamb. Some things he accomplished as a lamb that he couldn’t achieve as a lion. Yet Jesus could be the roaring lion from the tribe of Judah when he needed to be.
I advise pastors to follow the example of the One who could be both lamb and lion. Don’t use unnecessary force, but don’t be afraid to respond with full authority and power when the ministry’s at stake.
—Bishop T. D. Jakes is pastor of The Potter’s House in Dallas, Texas.
Authority Relocation
In my late twenties I made a shift from pastoring a mid-sized congregation in Minnesota to planting a church in the heart of San Francisco. Beyond the obvious cultural adjustments, the most challenging aspect of this transition was how my identity as a pastor was called into question.
In Minnesota, when people at the gym or grocery store found out I was a pastor, they were kind and deferential. They might ask a theological question, tell me about a personal problem, or sheepishly apologize for cussing in front of me.
In San Francisco, when I told people I was a pastor, the reaction was starkly different. The vocation seemed to provoke outbursts of profanity followed by diatribes about inquisitions, crusades, slavery, and religiously-motivated hate crimes. For many people I met, religion had been a source of hurt rather than healing. They were suspicious of my motives and what my office represented.
Relocation opened my eyes to two disparate views of the pastor’s position. In the Midwest, I was able to capitalize on the inherited authority of my title as “pastor” and the general respect for Christianity within that culture. In my new post-Christian context, I would have to earn credibility and trust by being a living example of what Jesus embodied and taught about life in God’s kingdom. I became painfully aware of my relative lack of formation as a disciple, realizing that I had been groomed for leadership in a system that rewarded me more for my knowledge of Scripture and skills as a teacher than for my lived experience of knowing God and loving people. At first I was devastated by the loss of inherited authority. But gradually I learned to welcome the challenge, to become a beginner again, recognizing that God is interested not only in what I might accomplish as a pastor, but in who I am becoming as a follower of the Way. And I’ve learned to value the hard-earned respect of friends outside the faith, particularly one who said, “I don’t really understand Christianity or what a pastor does, but I do know that you listen and care about people better than anyone I’ve ever met.”
—Mark Scandrette is founding director of ReIMAGINE, a spiritual formation center, and author of Practicing the Way of Jesus: Life Together in the Kingdom of Love (IVP 2011)
“Nip It in The Bud”
“Pray for me,” Jed told a fellow staff member, as he headed out to speak at one of our weekend services. “This one may get me fired.”
Jed was our youth pastor. His youth and teaching ministry had taken off since he joined our staff. However, over the course of the previous couple of months, I began to notice him challenging my authority. The challenges came in various forms, from showing disdain toward key decisions I made to blatantly violating church policy.
I knew that responding quickly was crucial. As Barney Fife memorably said, “You gotta nip it in the bud.” So I talked to Jed as soon as the pattern emerged. He denied it.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said.
I told him to pray about it and to be more mindful of his behavior. But the pattern of disrespect and insubordination continued. In the following weeks, I decided to dig a little deeper. What was causing this behavior? Did he have an issue with other staff members? Was it something personal against me? Neither, as it turned out.
Jed had recently undergone a profound change in his theology, one that put him at odds with our church’s theological stances (and, in my opinion, with orthodox Christian beliefs).
I decided to clarify our views on certain doctrines and ask him if he was still able to stand behind the church’s positions. I handed him a white paper that outlined our church’s beliefs about salvation.
His response was unequivocal.
“I wholeheartedly disagree with this document,” Jed said with disgust, throwing the paper on my desk for emphasis.
That was the deciding incident. We could no longer have Jed on staff, and I dismissed him from his position.
It was a difficult situation, but Jed was openly defiant of the church’s authority and we were at an impasse. Failing to act would have only exacerbated the problem and sown dissension. At the end of the day, any consistent challenging or disrespecting of authority in the church simply cannot be tolerated.
—Eric Rojas is executive pastor at Christ Community Church, a multi-site church in suburban Chicago.
Stand Your Ground
A pastor must claim authority to lead effectively. People need to sense that the person setting the vision for the church is both competent and confident. If a pastor does not provide authoritative leadership, his or her ministry can be undermined. I have observed highly qualified and motivated pastors become ineffective because of their inability to claim their pastoral authority. Sometimes it takes pastors being confronted with challenges or crises in the church before they come to realize this necessity.
I recall a time when I selected a layperson to serve in a high profile leadership role in our church. My judgment of this person’s qualifications was immediately questioned. The person who had concerns threatened to raise the issue at the church meeting where the election would take place, if I did not withdraw the person’s name. That ultimatum put me in a difficult position. Should I go ahead with my nomination and risk having the nominee be humiliated at the meeting? Or should I acquiesce to the dissenter, have my authority undermined, and forestall the installation of a promising lay leader? Neither option was acceptable.
If a pastor does not provide authoritative leadership, his or her ministry canbe undermined.
So I took a different course of action. I discerned that the dissenter’s motivations were not only unfounded but tainted by ulterior motives. So I met with this person and said, “If you publicly or privately undermine my decision and cast doubt on this nominee’s leadership and abilities, I will divulge your unfounded reasons for this objection and the personal issues that I believe are motivating you to the church committee. We had several intense conversations. At one point, this person even threatened to leave the church.
But in the end the meeting went forward. Both the nominee and dissenter were present. The elections took place without drama or disruptions, and the lay leader I nominated was granted a leadership role. The dissenter is still a member and we have not had any problems since that tense exchange. The elected lay leader continues to do an outstanding job!
—Tracy Malone is senior pastor of Gary United Methodist Church in Wheaton, Illinois.
Give Ground, Gain Credibility
I recognize my own tendency to abuse power or to manipulate others to get what I want. For that reason I find it necessary to meet weekly with a trusted colleague. Usually it’s an older, seasoned minister who provides counsel and helps me navigate leadership issues.
Recently in one of these sessions I confessed, “I was tempted to play the senior pastor card this week by push through my desire to have a special speaker come to our church.”
Earlier that week I had encountered resistance to having the special speaker come. A few church members heard that I wanted to bring this speaker, whom they dubbed a “celebrity,” to our church for a special outreach event. I was hoping that the speaker would draw a crowd and enable us to reach new people in our community. But I was also flattered that a prominent speaker would visit our little church, though I didn’t want to admit that was part of my motivation.
I became angry when negative feedback reached my ears. One of our members said, “We’ve tried this sort of event before and haven’t seen much success. Plus one of those times the guest speaker was way out in left field and we had to do some serious damage control.”
I took the critique personally. Didn’t this church member trust my judgment? Didn’t he realize that I would thoroughly vet the speaker?
Other leaders saw that I was willing to process honest feedback … my pastoral authority increased as my personal agenda decreased.
As I discussed the situation with my coffee partner, he asked some excellent questions:
“Would this event further your church’s vision in a way that no other event can? Could there be a kernel of truth in the feedback you received?”
These questions brought some of my darker motives into uncomfortably clear focus. I realized that I was star struck by this “celebrity” and had been blinded to some potential pitfalls. Having this speaker come would have meant using a significant amount of our outreach budget and kept us from pursing other forms of outreach. The potential results of a one-time event probably wouldn’t be as fruitful as doing several service-oriented outreach efforts.
On the drive home from my coffee chat, I decided to stop pushing my agenda. I immediately informed the speaker’s booking agent about my decision. The agent understood. Fortunately I hadn’t plopped down the “save the date” money.
Those who were critical of the speaker coming were relieved. Rather than feeling like I had lost authority, it seemed like I actually gained more. They responded to my decision with tremendous support in our other initiatives.
Other leaders saw that I was willing to process honest feedback and respond with prayerful reflection and seek wise counsel. I guess you could say that my pastoral authority increased as my personal agenda decreased.
—Clark Cothern is pastor of Living Water Community Church in Ypsilanti, Michigan
Copyright © 2011 by the author or Christianity Today/Leadership Journal.Click here for reprint information on Leadership Journal.
