October is pastor appreciation month, so we asked nine pastors to tell us about the pastors whom they most appreciate. Who has had the greatest impact on their ministries? Which leaders taught them what it means to be a preacher, a counselor, a shepherd? Their responses reveal a spectrum of pastoral influencers: childhood pastors, personal mentors, and partners in ministry.
Take some time to look through these stories of transformation and influence. You may be surprised to discover the moments that stuck in the memories of these pastors. More than a single sermon or a word of wisdom, these pastors displayed lives of committed discipleship and dedication to their calling.
E.K. Bailey: The Faithful Preacher
H. B. Charles, pastor of Shiloh Metropolitan Baptist Church of Jacksonville, Florida
I was a young preacher and a rookie pastor. My guest preacher asked me to take him to hear E.K. Bailey, who was also in town. I had heard of Bailey, the founding pastor of the Concord Church in Dallas, but had never seen him in person. At my guest’s request, we went to hear E.K. Bailey preach the next day. I had read books on expositional preaching, and I had heard several expositors preach before. But the Lord used E.K. Bailey that day to seal the deal; from that point on, I knew exposition was the most faithful way to handle the Word of God. My life and ministry would never be the same.
My first encounter with Dr. Bailey outside of the pulpit was not in person. I came home after a long day at work, and as I sat on the couch mindlessly flipping channels, there was E.K. Bailey on a Christian TV talk show. The host asked him a typical question: “What is the Lord saying to you?” Bailey answered by discussing his philosophy of ministry—expositional preaching, biblical eldership, and discipling men. Meet Pastor E.K. Bailey. I learned from him that a commitment to biblical preaching requires a commitment to biblical leadership.
My first real conversation happened at the church where I first heard him preach. I snuck in during my lunch break to hear him again. As I walked to my car, I was summoned to the pastor’s office. Meet E.K. Bailey, the friend of young preachers. He invited me to lunch, but I had decline because I was preaching that day too. But Dr. Bailey took a few minutes to chat. He dropped so many pearls of wisdom, I forgot my assignment and sat with him for hours. It was worth it!
Some years later, I preached a meeting in San Diego. As I prepared for church, the phone rang. Why in the world would someone call my hotel room an hour before church? I answered the phone with obvious frustration. The unfamiliar voice responded politely, without saying the purpose of the call. “Who is this?” I demanded. “How can I help you?” I recognized the voice, as Bailey bellowed in laughter. He was in town for rest and recuperation. He had called to say that he wished he could come hear me preach, and he wanted me to know he was praying for me. Meet E.K. Bailey, the selfless encourager.
E.K. Bailey influenced a generation of preachers to preach the Word, make disciples, and lead faithfully. I did not know him as well as many. Yet God used him to mentor me from afar. By his ministry and example, he taught me what it means to be a pastor.
Bill Swanger: The Lifelong Shepherd
Daniel Darling, vice president for communications for the Ethics and Religious Liberty Commission of the Southern Baptist Convention (ERLC)
When I think of the pastors who influenced me as a leader—and a husband, a father, and a man—I am tempted to consider the many unknown men whose sermons, books, and blog posts have shaped my public ministry. I'm tempted to think of the radio pastors who helped me grow as a young college student. I'm tempted to think of speakers from conferences I've attended. But more than any of those influences, I think of a single man, now passed away: Bill Swanger. He didn't have a platform, really, though he successfully pastored several churches in the Midwest and East Coast. He didn't write any books or have a large social media following.
Bill was, quite simply, a shepherd. I met him when I was 29 and stepping into my first pastorate. I was young and green and way too confident. Bill believed in me in ways nobody else had before. He believed in me enough to offer encouragement during trials and rebuke when I was about to react sinfully in difficult situations. Bill modeled for me, both in mentoring and our many conversations over coffee, what it looks like to press in and love the people of God.
I distinctly remember a time when I faced some hard decisions that I didn't want to make. I complained about having to deal with them. Bill gently said, "Dan, this is part of your calling. This is what we do. You have to dig in and do it." He was right. We don't pastor for the perks or the position or the popularity. We pastor because God has called us to this and because we love people.
Bill taught me how to love people well. He insisted that I live among the people and not simply thunder down sermons from on high every week. "You have to visit them. Be in their homes. Attend their soccer matches and weddings and concerts."
Once when my ministry was under severe attack and I was questioning my calling, he invited me to his home, served me a meal, and said, "Dan, I want you to know this. You are in the right. They are wrong. You will survive this. I believe in you."
On his death bed a few years ago, he said, "Dan, I want you to know that I am proud of you and what you've become. I love you." That was the last time I saw Bill. Even in his last moments, he was modeling for me what it looks like to shepherd well.
Don Johanson: The Pastor This Boy Loved
Lee Eclov, pastor of Village Church of Lincolnshire in Lake Forest, Illinois
Rose Hill Evangelical Free Church is a mile down a gravel road in northeastern South Dakota, 12 miles from Langford, population 316. The church will be 110 years old next year. Rose Hill is my home church.
Our family arrived there in the late 1950s when I was 7. Maybe 50 to 60 people attended each Sunday. All were farmers except for the pastor and my dad, who was the business manager of a cattle ranch. We drove 46 miles round-trip at least three times a week because it was the only evangelical church we could find.
When I was nine we got a new pastor fresh out of seminary. Don Johanson was single and lived in our drafty old parsonage a few miles from church. Though I didn’t know it then, Pastor Johanson began to shape my understanding of ministry.
He told me once about a time in seminary when he was supposed to lead a prayer meeting at the church he served and only two ladies showed up, so he cancelled it. He told me that he regretted that they didn’t pray anyway. After that, he said, every prayer meeting mattered, no matter how small the group. I never forgot that.
I recall asking my first hard Bible question after reading Mark 9:1. What did Jesus mean when he said, “Some who are standing here will not taste death before they see that the kingdom of God has come with power.” Pastor Johanson knew the answer.
Then there was the horrible farm accident where Adrian Fagerland was crushed to death. He was the church chairman, I think—a warm and godly man, father of four kids, my friends. It was a devastating blow to his family, our church, and our whole community. And our young Pastor Johanson had to do that funeral. It must have been so hard. I wonder if he had any mentor to call.
There was a terrible battle in those days. Two factions, and no one budged. Some 50 years later they still haven’t. In other communities maybe people would have left the church, but there wasn’t anywhere else to go. And dear, young Pastor Johanson had to deal with all that vinegar and venom.
I love my memory of Pastor Johanson at the Sunday school picnic at Clear Lake. He went swimming with all us kids, and we spent the afternoon trying to climb on him and knock him off his feet. I distinctly remember the red welts on his back from our scratches. And I loved him for it all.
Pastor Johanson died in 2005. He’d been a pastor for 39 years. I still remember the Sunday when he and Ella surprised me by showing up at a service in the church I now serve. I’ve been honored to have many wonderful visitors in our church over the years, but he was the only one I’ve introduced. And that was the only time I wept.
John Henry Corcoran: The 'Old School' Mentor
Daniel Fusco, lead pastor of Crossroads Community Church in Vancouver, Washington
My life and ministry have been influenced by one pastor above all others. This man took a chance on a young Christian, and by God’s grace—and no doubt many headaches on his part—I have the opportunity to write about him today. That man is Pastor John Henry Corcoran, who now serves as an Associate Pastor at Calvary Chapel Costa Mesa, California. Not a day passes in which I don’t see the impact he has had on my life and ministry.
I met John Henry in Marin County, California in 2000. I had just moved to the area to pursue a career in music. I discovered his church and was immediately impacted by his gift of preaching. Pastor John Henry is not only an exceptional Bible teacher, but he also has an incredible gift of exhortation—all spoken with his amazing Irish brogue (he hails from Tipperary Town in Ireland). He took an interest in me as a person and eventually brought me on the church staff as an intern at the tender age of 24.
Pastor John Henry brought me under his pastoral wing. It was “old school” apprenticeship. It was up close and personal. It was life upon life. He discipled me in every area of pastoral ministry, from counseling to hospital calls, weddings and funerals, administration, and of course, preaching. Pastor John Henry would share with me stories about how Pastor Chuck Smith, the founder of the Calvary Chapel movement, had discipled him in a similar way. He also told me I would go on to do the same thing for other men.
One of the most impactful things Pastor John Henry modeled for me was his commitment to his wife and children. He invited me to be a part of his family so I could see the inner workings of family centered on Jesus. I had heard many horror stories of pastors who sacrificed their families on the altar of ministry—and witnessed a few with my own eyes. But not Pastor John Henry. He guarded his family time passionately. His boys are proof of his commitment. Now grown men, each of his sons is rock solid and serving Jesus.
There is not a day that goes by that I do not thank God for my pastor, John Henry Corcoran. I appreciate him more than words can express.
Bob Schmidgall: The Hand on My Shoulder
Steve Norman, senior pastor of Kensington Church in Troy, Michigan
When Pastor Bob Schmidgall put his hand on your shoulder to greet you or on your head to pray for you, it was an authoritative, loving gesture. It felt weighty, as if something serious was happening, and warm, like light was coursing through his fingers. I watched those hands lift in worship, elevate the Word in preaching, and extend comfort to those in crisis.
But when I was a senior in high school, Pastor Bob’s hand on my shoulder proved to be a milestone moment. At the encouragement of my youth pastor, I’d started doing some preaching here and there. And at his recommendation, I entered our denomination’s program to help young people flex their creative muscles to proclaim the gospel through music, visual arts, drama, and preaching. Every year there were state, regional, and national competitions for each of these categories. (I know … pitting high school preachers against each other in a contest may be problematic on a few different levels, but that’s a conversation for another day.) Apparently, the competition was a little thin my year, and I was privileged to advance to some of the final rounds. When it was all over, word of my performance on my mini-sermon got back to Pastor Bob.
He asked if I would deliver my five-minute talk during an upcoming Sunday evening service at our rapidly growing church in suburban Chicago. And, shaking on my way up to the platform, I did. It was one of the more exhilarating moments of my high school experience. I forgot some of the details until a month ago when a friend, who had captured it on film, posted the image to social media. There I stand in my suit and tie, waving my finger about something. And in the background, Pastor Bob sits with a smile and his massive right hand draped over the seat next to him on the stage.
Not every pastor is good at sharing their influence, their platform, or their blessing—especially not with 17 year olds who think they know more than they do. But Pastor Bob’s affirmation and encouragement meant the world to me. That opportunity to “play preacher” on a legitimate stage was part of a sequence of events that propelled me into my call and ministry. Even though he’s gone now, my hands will always be dwarfed by his. He gave me a picture of what it means to equip, empower, and celebrate the leaders a generation behind me.
Greg Belser: The Expository Preacher
David Prince, pastor of preaching and vision at Ashland Avenue Baptist Church in Lexington, Kentucky
Without a shadow of a doubt, Greg Belser is the pastor who has had the most influence on my ministry. I was a fairly new believer when he became the pastor of Morningview Baptist Church in Montgomery, Alabama. After his sermon on one of his first Sundays, my girlfriend—now my wife—and I looked at one another and said, “What was that?” It was the first time I had ever heard anything like it. I would later learn to call it expository preaching. His preaching was not flashy, but it was accessible and weighty. Greg's faithful sermons transformed our lives, and God used them to give me a burden for Christ-centered expository preaching.
Beyond the pulpit, Greg ministered with consistency and biblical integrity. His ministry authority and focus were rooted in the Scripture. Sitting under his ministry, I learned that faithful pastoral leadership involved shepherding the flock with the Word of God, not simply through the force of your personality or the authority conferred by a sign on your office door that says, “Pastor.”
Greg Belser was a plain-spoken straight shooter. Any time I sought counsel from him, I knew he would tell me exactly what he thought based on Scripture. He never hedged his bets for the sake of congregational popularity. One time when I was frustrated about something, he told me, “God is sovereign, so you do not have to be. You cannot change people overnight. You simply have to be a truth-teller who loves the people to whom you are telling the truth.” Another time after I became a pastor, I was complaining about someone in my church. Greg said, “That is why sheep need a shepherd.” He taught me the sovereignty of God was not an abstract theological concept but a pastoral ministry plan, and I will be forever grateful.
Leighton Ford: The Kingdom Seeker
Ken Shigematsu, pastor of Tenth Church in Vancouver, British Columbia
When I first came to Tenth Avenue Church in Vancouver, BC in the summer of 1996, I was intimidated by the challenge of pastoring a historic church that had seen its glory years in the 1950s. Since then, church attendance had dwindled from more than 1,000 to a little over 100. The remaining congregation was elderly and primarily of European ancestry. The church had cycled through 20 pastors (including associates) in 20 years. All of them, it seemed to me, were far more experienced and gifted than I was, yet none of them had been able to halt what seemed like the church’s slow, inevitable death.
A couple weeks after my arrival, my mentor, Leighton Ford, came to visit. We sat in my car not far from the church, and I felt a desperate need for encouragement. But because I was too ashamed to ask for that, I asked for some counsel. He paused and said, “Remember that God is an artist. He will not lead you to copy anyone else. Seek God for his unique vision for this place.”
I had been working on a series of 100-day goals, but Leighton’s words helped me hear the Holy Spirit’s call to set those aside for a moment and instead seek God in prayer. As I was praying one day, I sensed the Holy Spirit saying, “If you will bless those who cannot repay you, I will bless you.” I didn't know what that meant, but I sensed God calling us to care for the poor and those on the margins of our society.
A homeless man named Robert began living outside our church building. One of our elders invited Robert to stay in his fully furnished laneway house free of charge, but Robert preferred to sleep outside our church building. One cold February morning, Robert didn’t wake up. He had succumbed to the cold and died. At that moment, I knew we needed to begin a ministry to help shelter the homeless. The Spirit of God began moving in our old church in new ways. A stream of people from all walks of life started coming to know Jesus.
One of the most important lessons I learned through Leighton Ford was, “Don’t be an empire builder; be a kingdom seeker.” I have tried to live this truth in my nearly two decades of ministry at Tenth. I seek direction from God in prayer and try to define true success not by our weekend attendance numbers or annual budget, but by aiming to do what is in God’s mind and heart (1 Sam. 2:35). Just as Jesus, in the midst of his own demanding ministry, constantly sought the direction of his Father (Luke 4:42; 5:16), I feel Jesus calling me to be led moment by moment in my work. As I am led by Jesus, with the Spirit’s help, I am able to lead more like him, and more to him.
Anthony Jones: The First Follower
Mandy Smith, lead pastor at University Christian Church in Cincinnati, Ohio
It’s probably unconventional, but one of the pastors who has had the most influence on my ministry is one of my associate pastors: Anthony Jones.
When I became a lead pastor, I was the first female lead pastor I’d known. So the learning curve was steep. I’d had many positive influences from pastors over the years, so I found myself imitating the ways I’d seen it done before. I didn’t even notice how hard I worked to follow those male role models. My throat was often sore after preaching in a voice deeper than my own, and my mind was regularly exhausted after leading meetings in traditionally masculine ways.
Anthony was with me on the day I was forced to confront this unhealthy habit. I had no idea what it looked like to lead my own way, but I could no longer pretend to lead like someone else. I risked letting Anthony behind the scenes to see that wrestling. It was a place that felt weak and shameful, so his response was significant. When we confess our human limitation, we long to see acceptance in the face of another human. If we don’t, the shame and hiding only continue. On that day, not only did I see acceptance in Anthony’s face, but also absolute peace that he was ready to follow.
One of my favorite TED talks is by Derek Sivers on how to start a movement. It shows a video of a crazy guy dancing alone at an outdoor festival. It’s not until a friend follows his lead that others are prompted to join in, and suddenly there’s a crowd. Sivers notes, “The first follower is an underestimated form of leadership. I takes guts to stand out like that. The first follower is what transforms a lone nut into a leader.
While many pastors have influenced my ministry, the one I needed most was someone willing to follow me as I figured out how to lead. Anthony’s willingness to be the first follower helped me see myself as a leader.
Maurice Watson: The Lover of God and People
Romell Williams, senior pastor of Lilydale Progressive M.B. Church in Chicago, Illinois
Without question, Maurice Watson, pastor of Metropolitan Baptist Church in Washington, DC, has been the most influential ministry personality in my life. He is my pastor, my mentor, and above all, he is my friend. Since 2002 we have enjoyed a close relationship. He counseled me through my courtship and marriage. He affirmed my character during the search process with my current congregation, and he preached during my 2004 installation services. Words cannot express the value this ministry giant has had in my life and ministry.
Maurice is sought after internationally as a clear, faithful, gifted expositor of the Holy Scriptures. He is equally gifted as a pastor. I was pleasantly surprised and permanently challenged a few years ago when I spent a Sunday shadowing Maurice through his three services held in two different locations. He was methodical in his leadership methods, sharing the same information with equal passion in every worship. Also on display were his love for and commitment to each local congregation he served. He prayed for members in hallways, greeted them by name, lovingly admonished the staff towards excellence, and still managed to preach to the glory of God. Despite being caught up in the fast-paced routine which has become his Sunday ritual, he made time for his wife and children, pausing to interact with and affirm them. This encouraging example of pastoral balance was almost surreal to experience. That day I saw the nationally recognized preacher acting as this church’s lead servant.
Now I invite you into a room on the 10th floor of the Omni Jacksonville Hotel in Florida during the fourth week of September in 2014. This week marked the maiden voyage of the Cutting It Straight Expository Preaching Conference. Friday was the last night of the conference, concluding a powerful and Spirit-filled week of preaching, teaching, and learning to the glory of God. Maurice and I were scheduled to speak that closing night. I was more nervous than I can ever remember being about a single preaching engagement. As the conference progressed, my anxiety grew. But in that hotel room on that afternoon, my pastor stopped preparing his own sermon, grabbed my hand, dropped to one knee, and went to God in prayer on my behalf. He prayed that God would strengthen me and settle my heart as I stood to do what God had created and called me to do. God heard that prayer, and I will never forget that moment.
