ACCOUNTABILITY THAT MAKES SENSE

How can you talk in a healthy way about the difficult issues of money, sex, and power?

Recently I spoke at a ministers’ conference, and following one of the sessions, one pastor confessed, “You know, I’ve never had a best friend. I’ve been so busy working for the Lord that I’ve never found the time.”

You could hear the lonely longing in his voice. I felt it inside, because ten years ago I’d felt the same way. I was considered a successful youth leader and teacher, I was trying to live the Christian life as best I understood it, and yet I felt lonely. Things weren’t rotten; I wasn’t in a state of desperation. But something inside me said, There’s got to be more to the Christian life than this. I feel alone.

I didn’t know what I was looking for. I certainly didn’t think I was looking for a relationship of accountability. But such a friendship found me.

Surprised by friendship

I was working with Young Life at the time and met a guy named Rob, a young, rising business executive from the right side of the tracks. I grew up on the wrong side of the tracks. He was single; I was married. We didn’t have a lot in common, but he began to drop by once in a while. At first I thought he was trying to recruit me for something, but gradually I realized he was coming by simply because he wanted to be with me. I’d done the same for many young people I’d ministered to, but it had never occurred to me that people would do that for me.

I discovered Rob’s concept of life was similar to mine, focused on friendship with God and being himself with others. We started jogging together and playing racquetball together. I began to look at him as a friend, and after a while I started relying on him as a sounding board.

Eventually we began to talk about our spiritual journeys, some of our struggles, the dreams we had. We discovered that both of us were lonely. It was tough to let on to another guy, “You know, I’m lonely.” But as I thought back, I realized, I haven’t had a best friend since junior high school.

The time problem

Rob and I enjoyed getting together, but our schedules were so crazy we could go for weeks and never talk. Then one fall afternoon while walking around a lake, we decided we would try something: once a week we would get together just to talk about “our highest ideals and our deepest needs.” And we would pray for each other as often as possible, preferably daily.

At the time it seemed funny that we had to be so intentional about developing a friendship, but we both saw that with the pace of life, if it weren’t on the calendar, it wouldn’t happen.

We established some guidelines that we thought would help:

We would never share more than we felt comfortable talking about.

We would not offer advice or criticism unless asked.

We weren’t each other’s therapists but rather friends who would help each other in the spiritual life. We wouldn’t try to change the other person but would work together on changing ourselves.

We’d try meeting for a year and then consider whether to continue. But even if we stopped the weekly meetings, we’d still be friends.

The guidelines took away any fear of meeting with Rob. I knew I wasn’t going to come out feeling beaten up.

The big three

Only with a special kind of friend can you talk about the three issues with which we all struggle: money, sex, and power. We’re always facing opportunities but also dangers with these. Most Christian leaders I’ve encountered have no one, including their spouses, with whom they can talk candidly about these kinds of struggles. That fall afternoon, Rob and I agreed we would try to talk honestly about these areas.

We had no more said this than I couldn’t help but notice some of the scantily clad women joggers bobbing by. I thought, Well, this is a test of our relationship, and I gulped and said, “You know, I’m having trouble focusing, because my mind is straying to those bodies running by.” I couldn’t remember the last time I was able to confess something like that.

Rob admitted his own tendency to see a beautiful woman as a sexual object. “How can you acknowledge the beauty of a woman,” he asked, “without that second thought of mentally trying to undress her?”

As we talked, we realized the key was being able to disconnect the moment of recognizing beauty from the thoughts that led to lust. We admitted our tendency was to wrestle the thoughts, to try to win by willpower, rather than acknowledging, I’m helpless to overcome my own tendency to want to lust after a woman. Admitting that, ironically enough, released us from it. The insights we discussed gave me a strategy for dealing with the problem.

We began meeting for lunch each week, usually for an hour and a half. Both of us travel at times, and I found it helpful to know that when I came back from a trip, he might ask, “How’s it going with your ability to disconnect?” Knowing I was going to have a chance to talk about it helped me walk past that bookstore and movie theater, and free my mind from thoughts about that enchantress I happened to see.

I discovered this “spiritual discipline” didn’t have to be grim, hard work. Our time together was not just a spiritual review but also a relaxing time of recreation. Rob and I would sometimes skip the lunch and play squash or racquetball. I am not the kind of person who tends to play. I’m pretty intense and goal oriented, and I had to learn it was okay not to have every week be an intense session. After all, we weren’t looking for therapy or Bible study but a friendship that would help us both minister more effectively.

Money

One day we got together for lunch, and after we ordered, Rob said, “How’s it going?”

I said, “I’ve gotten five overdraft notices from my bank, and I am ticked off. I mailed a check to the bank in time to cover those five checks, and the bank messed up.”

Rob listened to me complain for a while, and then he said, “It’s a pretty powerless feeling, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. The bank could care less about the fact they messed me up, and every one of those overdrawn checks is costing me $15! They were only for diddly amounts-$3, $12, $8-but they’re costing me twice as much.”

Only after I got the anger out did I realize, You know, what I really feel powerless about is the fact that I’m spending more money than I’m making. I’ve cut things too close. My priorities are out of whack.

I told Rob about it, and we started to talk about budgeting. After the lunch, we both went home and talked to our spouses (Rob was now married) about working out a household budget and sharing it with the other person. Both spouses gave their permission.

The next week I took my budget and laid it in front of Rob. His job was to say, “How does your budget reflect your priorities?” It was for me to answer my own questions.

Since then we’ve used each other as a third-party perspective on major purchases. We both desire a simpler lifestyle, but that’s hard to reach by yourself. So before Kathy and I buy something major, I’ll often tell Rob about it and ask, “As I talk about this, what kind of feelings are you picking up? Is this purchase helping me become the person I want to become?”

Not that this is a heavy process. Recently Kathy and I were ready to sign a purchase agreement for a new home, and I asked Rob’s advice. He brought up some good questions that helped me write a better purchase agreement. For example, he said, “Snow blowers and lawn mowers are high-ticket items. Do they have ones they’d be willing to include with the house?” The couple was retiring to the South and wouldn’t need either, so I was able to add those to the contract and save some money. I never would have if Rob hadn’t given me the idea.

Power

At first, the toughest of the three areas to talk about was sex. But now I struggle most to talk about power. It’s so subtle. It’s hard to see, let alone admit, our deepest needs for it.

For a while, I couldn’t figure out a conflict I seemed to be having with another man on staff at the church. I was not trying to be competitive, but I felt a sense of competition between us. I didn’t know what I was doing to create the negative response.

I told Rob about the situation, and he asked, “What does it feel like to have two young bulls buttin’ heads? Each has strong opinions; each feels the other person doesn’t understand him.” I was able to express my feelings: misunderstood, discounted, taken advantage of. And from there I could admit some of my fears. One fear was of conflict itself. I don’t like disunity, I don’t like fighting, and I tend to avoid it at all costs. I also feared losing whatever power I did have.

As I talked with Rob about it, somehow the discussions helped lower my fears. I began to see how I had been insensitive to my fellow staff member’s needs.

The next week I walked into this staff member’s office. He didn’t invite me to sit down but asked, “What do you want?”

I closed the door and said, “I need to . . . I need to apologize to you.”

His eyes opened wide. “What for?”

I told him the things I realized I had been doing wrong in the relationship, things that talking with Rob had helped me to see.

That conversation didn’t ease completely the tension in the relationship, and we never became best friends. But it helped to disarm our competition for power. It stopped the under-the-table hostility that was moving us further apart.

Fourth priority

Rob and I are now in our ninth year together. The longevity of our relationship is one of its strengths, because each of us now has a historical view of the other person’s life. We’re able to say, “I remember how you dealt with this before, and you have really grown.”

We’re also less able to con each other. Most of us, when we have a problem, cast ourselves in the best light and blame circumstances or other people. But Rob and I know each other well enough now to keep each other honest.

Sometimes people who know about our friendship wonder whether it competes with our marriages. Do our spouses resent the intimacy we have developed? No, because Rob and I have been clear that our relationship is fourth priority-after God, our wives, and our vocations. One way the difference shows is that neither Rob nor I talk about some of the most intimate details of our marriages. But talking to Rob actually enhances my marriage. When I consider a minor struggle with Rob, I then find it easier to share a major struggle with Kathy. Finding openness at the one level gives me the courage to try it at another. In addition, many people have no one to turn to when troubles with their spouses blow in. When conflicts have arisen between Kathy and me, I’ve been able to sort some of them with Rob so that I could go back and work through them with Kathy.

My relationship of accountability with Rob has been a key in keeping me alive and growing through the transitions and conflicts that come with ministry.

-Gary W. Downing, executive minister

Colonial Church of Edina

Edina, Minnesota

* * *

Social ethics must never be substituted for personal ethics. Crusading can easily become a dodge for facing up to one’s lack of personal morality. By the same token, even if I am a model of personal righteousness, that does not excuse my participation in social evil. The man who is faithful to his wife while he exercises bigotry toward his neighbor is no better than the adulterer who crusades for social justice. What God requires is justice both personal and social.

-R. C. Sproul

* * *

When does proper desire become coveting? I think we can put the answer down simply: desire becomes sin when it fails to include the love of God or men. Further, I think there are two practical tests as to when we are coveting against God or men: first, I am to love God enough to be contented; second, I am to love men enough not to envy.

-Francis Schaeffer

- More from Gary W. Downing

Pastors

PEOPLE IN PRINT

Constructive Church Conflict

Preaching about Conflict in the Local Church by William H. Willimon, Westminster, $8.95

Reviewed by Roger Thompson, pastor, Trinity Baptist Church, Wheat Ridge, Colorado

William H. Willimon has some good news and bad news. The bad news is that churches will always have problems, and conflict is one of them. The good news is that the active energy of a congregation in conflict is far superior to death. “While conflict may not always be pleasant,” he writes, “the alternatives are rather stark.”

Recognizing that “few of us pastors entered the ministry out of a love of conflict,” Willimon seeks to detoxify the atmosphere in which most of us live. “If we didn’t really care about one another and the faith, there would be no conflict. The person who wonders why the meetings of his or her book club are more placid than those of the branch office of the kingdom of God need only measure what is at stake to understand why church fights are so fierce.”

Although the book’s title focuses on the role of preaching in a conflict situation, Willimon puts that task in the overall context of how to handle disagreements.

Biblically, rationally, emotionally, Willimon reshapes our image of church conflict and its causes. Pastoring through conflict is elevated to an art form, a spiritual discipline, a calling from God rather than a hassle that robs our time. Willimon’s upbeat, “can-do” spirit is shown by his opinion that churches generally overstate their inability to handle conflict: “I can think of many more cases where a church was strengthened by crisis than destroyed by it.”

Willimon is no stranger to the local church. He has pastored several churches and now serves at Duke University as minister to the university. He explained part of his reason for writing the book in an interview: “I was nurtured in the protest movements of the sixties and felt well acquainted with positive conflict. When I moved into ministry in the church, however, I found myself saying, ‘I don’t mind important conflicts, but all these little, stupid conflicts over things like the color of carpet just aren’t worth my time.’ “

The book has four core chapters:

1. What’s Going On Here? When the congregation is in conflict, Willimon says the pastor has only two options: ignore the situation or intervene. Ignoring conflict won’t solve anything, but neither will untimely confrontation. Encouraging what he calls “creative avoidance,” Willimon maps out a method of choosing the time and place to do battle. Only after assessing the nature of the conflict and the individuals involved is the pastor ready to act.

2. To Speak or Not to Speak? Willimon says preaching is “not the only or necessarily the most effective pastoral response, because the nature of the conflict will determine whether or not preaching should be used.” Some pastors underinvest in preaching, he says. Every other activity of pastoral care takes precedence. On the other extreme are those who overinvest in preaching. The myth is that telling is changing; the magical implantation of right ideas will solve every perversity of mankind.

“No magic formula . . . will enable preaching to be the key to successful resolution of congregational problems,” Willimon writes. “Preaching provides no ‘quick fix’ for conflict, because there is no substitute for committed, patient long-term pastoral work before and after the pastor stands up to preach.”

3. The Pastor Who Is Prophet. Pastors at their best can bring a newness to the conflict discussion, says Willimon. False perceptions and value systems will be exposed by articulating the issue in fresh, biblical terms.

“Prophetic preaching begins with criticism,” Willimon writes. “The criticism emerges first out of grief-the recognition that things are not right.” When this criticism, however gentle, is brought to the congregation, there is “an inevitable distancing of pastor from the congregation.” Willimon counsels that we should not be surprised if there is loneliness or isolation in the midst of crisis. It is intrinsic to the prophetic role.

The task of preaching prophetically is a heavy one. Private struggle with the implications of the tension, however, can infuse the delivery with compassion. And this preaching of the chastened and humbled prophet may not speak only to the people, but for them as well. “When this happens, the people sit up and listen because the voice they hear is their own.”

4. How Shall I Preach? The preacher is not the answer-giver in the conflict situation, Willimon says, but rather the one who urges a continuing spiritual search within the crisis.

There is no occasion when the preacher’s own motives must be so well understood and examined as when speaking out of this kind of tension. Willimon tells of a time of conflict when he wrote one judgmental sermon in his mind, then thought better of it and chose instead to place himself in the congregation, listening to the words of Jesus with them.

Yet, if there is a summary message to pastors who question their role in the conflict crisis, it is that they must lead. They must not allow themselves or their churches to be ground down because they lack the strength to wade into the conflict. The goal of preaching about conflict is to address the struggle directly, biblically, and compassionately. “It is never enough that the sermon be generally true,” Willimon writes. “Rather, it must be recognizably true for these people in the time of crisis.”

When Conception Is a Crisis

Counseling for Unplanned Pregnancy and Infertility by Everett L. Worthington, Jr., Word, $12.95

Reviewed by Nancy D. Becker, pastor, Ogden Dunes Community Church, Portage, Indiana

Sharon is 14 years old, unmarried, and pregnant. Although young and fearful, she decides to have the baby. When she tells her parents of her decision, they take her to a counselor. “You have to talk some sense into Sharon,” demands her father.

Clint and Ann are both 49. Ann had begun to show signs of menopause, so they had discontinued birth control measures. When Ann discovered she was pregnant, she was fearful about the likelihood of birth defects. The birth was long and difficult, and the child died shortly after delivery. In despair, Ann went to her pastor. “Why did we have to go through this terrible ordeal for nothing?” she cried.

Two pregnancies-one that comes too soon, one that comes too late. Both present challenges to the counselor who is called on to help.

This book, the latest volume in Word’s Resources for Christian Counseling series, is a helpful tool for a pastoral counselor who is called on to guide a woman or a family through a pregnancy crisis.

Although the title indicates that the treatment of infertility is given equal weight in the book, the subject is actually limited to one short chapter. The author points out that little research has been done on counseling infertile couples, and he does a good job summarizing the emotional stages such a couple typically goes through.

Worthington is a psychologist with ten years of private practice specializing in marriage and family counseling, yet he describes himself as “an academic.” It’s a good combination. His insights, his deep understanding of people under stress, and his knowledge of recent and classic research make this book a useful overview.

Many different counseling situations are touched upon. The chapter on premarital pregnancy, for example, includes pointers on the transition to parenthood. His discussion of pregnancy during cohabitation includes an examination of the moral and social issues raised by the couple’s living arrangement.

Worthington believes the whole family should be included in pregnancy crisis counseling rather than just the woman. His treatment of family-centered counseling and family dynamics in a crisis is one of the most instructive chapters of the book. Worthington describes three factors that increase stress in crisis pregnancies.

The first factor is the amount of disruption caused in the family’s time schedules, which can affect the way family members meet their individual needs for intimacy and distance. Anna and Mark, for example, became pregnant when they were both in their late forties. When the baby was born, they and their previously well-adjusted 14-year-old son had to adapt to greater demands on their time, a decline in family intimacy, and the curtailment of outside social contacts.

The second stress-producing factor is the number of new decisions in which family members disagree. Disagreements are often based on unconscious, untested assumptions about how families are “supposed to” operate. If a couple disagrees, for example, about some aspect of child rearing, “the discussion passes in a neat progression from the honey-sweetie stage to the poignant discussion about whether the mother-in-law wears combat boots.”

The third factor is instability in the family power structure, forcing an overt or covert renegotiation of the family decision-making process. “When family members disagree there is usually a power struggle, in which everyone spends energy rehearsing conversations in their minds and everyone feels as if his or her basic rights are being violated.”

Worthington also deals with the problem of adolescent pregnancy. He provides insight into the mind of an adolescent: “Just because an adult might view the decision to engage in sexual intercourse outside marriage as a moral decision does not mean an adolescent will define it that way. Often the popular media have portrayed sex outside marriage not as a moral decision, but as a lifestyle decision. … School systems, sensitive to the charge that they are promoting religious or moral values, have defined sexual decisions as amoral lifestyle decisions, or, at best, moral decisions that depend on each individual’s moral standards.”

Worthington suggests pastors and parents preplan a strategy with teens that involves the following: (1) increasing their awareness of the values of parents, pastors, and peers that support chastity; (2) consciously turning their attention to the long-term risks and dangers associated with premarital intercourse; and (3) helping them learn to interrupt the sequence of events in high-intensity dating situations so they don’t lead toward the emotion-charged decisions that can result in premarital pregnancy.

Faced with a pregnant adolescent, the counselor will be called on to provide “Advice, Acceptance, and Absolution,” says Worthington.

First, the counselor is in a position to help her think about factors she may not have considered, such as the likelihood that her parents will be supportive once they’re over the initial shock, or the long-term negative effects of abortion.

Second, when a pregnant adolescent includes a counselor in her decision making, she needs and wants the counselor’s acceptance of her as a person in spite of her condition. To launch into a moral lecture would most likely prevent the girl from confiding in the counselor any further.

At the deepest level, the girl needs the forgiveness and absolution that follow repentance and confession. Worthington advises the counselor not to be the “hammer of the Holy Spirit,” but rather “the vessel of the Holy Spirit for love and acceptance” until the girl is ready to confess and repent.

This relatively brief book contains a whole library of help for dealing with many of the transitions and crisis situations people are likely to bring to their pastor, written by a sensitive and experienced guide to the human condition.

Living with the Legal System

Church Law by Michael J. Woodruff, James M. Smart, Jr., Robert C. Londerholm, Dennis D. Palmer, Eugene T. Hackler and Kenneth E. Peery, B & E Video Productions, $200

Reviewed by Jim Stobaugh, pastor, Fourth Presbyterian Church, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania

Gone are the days when pastors and churches were immune from lawsuits. As Kenneth R. Barton, director of the six-part videotaped seminar Church Law observes, “A growing population of Americans are recognizing that the church is a wealthy, vulnerable target-a two-column, four-inch entry/target in any Yellow Pages directory.”

Therefore, if we want to remain pastors and at the same time avoid paranoia, we need to understand the effect of law upon the church. We have to know the current legal climate as well as we know systematic theology. Although the latest in biblical exegesis may be more interesting, Nally vs. Grace Community Church may have a greater impact on our work.

To that end, B & E Video Productions (4343 N.E. Kelsey Rd., Kansas City, MO 64116) offers this series. Recorded April 10, 1987, at a seminar in Kansas City, six competent attorneys lecture on significant court rulings and statutes.

The seminar was sponsored by the Heart of America Christian Justice Center, a nonprofit organization committed to education, research, and action. Founded by Lynn Buzzard, the former head of the Christian Legal Society, Heart of America is committed to biblical principles of reconciliation.

“The fact is, though,” said Kenneth Peery, executive director of the Center, in an interview, “most of American society does not follow Matthew 18 and 1 Corinthians 6. So it behooves us all to know our law.”

While unabashedly conservative in its theological assumptions, the legal instruction in these tapes is helpful for pastors of all stripes. Like my grandfather slowly unpacking his fishing equipment, these six attorneys slowly, methodically unpack their wares. I never felt patronized-and that’s something for this reviewer to say. I thought tort was something my wife bakes with apples and cinnamon!

Tape 1 is presented by Michael J. Woodruff, director of the Center for Law and Religious Freedom in Washington, D.C. He begins by defining a clergy person. He argues that the real test is functional: are clergy really functioning as clergy? Are they involved in worship? Clergy definitions are critical when tax season comes, as any ordained youth pastor or Christian education director knows. It may also be important when considering liability in counseling.

At the same time, Woodruff warns the pastor about confidential communications in counseling. Normally a conversation with a clergy person is privileged and confidential-unless it’s communicated to a pastor in the presence of a third person. In tape 6 Woodruff warns that confidentiality is especially difficult in marriage counseling. For the protection of the pastor, he suggests that we disavow any confidentiality, at least between spouses.

Confidentiality is a critical issue in the face of current court cases. For example, based on most state laws, child abuse must be reported to authorities no matter how the information is gathered. To neglect to do so may be a criminal offense.

Tape 2, “Avoiding Pastor Liabilities,” is presented by James M. Smart, a Kansas City lawyer. He develops the subject of negligence as defined by the courts. A church may be liable, for instance, if a child drowns at its annual picnic.

The most helpful advice is Smart’s discussion of incorporation. The purpose of corporation law is to allow certain entities (e.g., a church) to operate with limited exposure to liability. A corporation is generally liable only to the extent of its assets. Unincorporated associations, on the other hand, offer less protection for their members, because each individual member can be sued. Smart caused me to check our church by-laws!

Malpractice is explored by Robert C. Londerholm, a Kansas attorney, in tape 3. Using the Nally case, Londerholm defines malpractice as “failure to exercise an accepted degree of skill in the performance of professional duties that results in injury to another.”

“Fair enough when applied to doctors, lawyers, and psychologists,” Londerholm argues. “But what are the criteria for measuring the skill of a pastor? Clergy have been doing counseling for centuries. Have we retreated so far that only trained secular professionals can counsel?” Londerholm concludes by suggesting that pastors should not hesitate to do whatever counseling is necessary. I’m not so sure. I prefer Woodruffs advice: refer if in any doubt of competence, and in any event, warn counselees of your own limitations.

Other tapes discuss hiring and firing employees, tax laws, and how to get tax exemptions for church property.

I recommend this videotape collection with some reservations. Much of the information in these tapes can be obtained in print at lower cost. But such publications are often difficult to understand or not generally available, so these six tapes are a convenient and interesting way to be introduced to a vital subject. Perhaps several pastors might pool resources to get a set, or denominational judicatories could provide them for their churches.

New and Noteworthy

Reaching Out to Troubled Youth by Dwight Spotts and David Veerman, Victor, $12.95

Statistics show that most faith commitments to Christ occur in the teenage years. Clearly, the church dare not ignore its youth. But what about the troubled ones-the 15-year-old pregnant out of wedlock? The 17-year-old abusing drugs? Two staffers with Youth for Christ/USA-Dwight Spotts, national Youth Guidance director, and David Veerman, national Campus Life director-have written a handbook that gives solid guidelines for ministering to troubled teenagers. Among the questions addressed in this guide: “What do I do with a kid who is out of control? How involved should I get with families? What about special problems like drug abuse, homosexuality, or child abuse?”

Using Scripture, proven counseling strategies, and case studies, Spotts and Veerman answer these and other questions. Full of attractive bold lettering, easy-to-read columns, and a full bibliography and appendix, Reaching Out leads the reader through dozens of difficult youth problems.

Making Ethical Decisions by Louis B. Weeks, Westminster, $8.95

Ethics, one of those intimidating electives most seminarians succeed in avoiding, has rarely been so appealing. Beginning each chapter with scriptural exegesis, Louis Weeks assiduously addresses such timeless pastoral questions as “How do I choose? How shall I live? How shall I grow? What shall I do?” This apparent simplicity, if disarming, is misleading. In fact, by weaving a case study throughout the book, Weeks entices the reader into dilemmas and ethical questions pastors normally avoid. This is the sort of book one wishes he had read in a seminary practical theology course.

Sexual Assault and Abuse by Mary D. Pellauer, Barbara Chester, and Jane Boyajian, Harper & Row, $24.95

Since 20 to 30 percent of females now 12 years old will suffer a violent sexual attack during the remainder of their lives, counseling victims of sexual assault and abuse can no longer be considered an academic exercise. Virtually every pastor and counselor in America will have to minister to these people.

Pellauer, Chester, and Boyajian introduce this topic with candor, courage, and compassion. For example Mary Pellauer says, “It took nearly a year to remember that as a child I had seen battering in my own home.”

This book is a comprehensive collection of essays that introduces clergy and pastoral counselors to the physical, spiritual, and psychological consequences of abuse and assault. The authors are never dispassionate or aloof. The reader feels the pain of the victims. But this is not merely an empathic experience. Pellauer, Chester and Boyajian have edited a thorough discussion of these timely issues.

A Mind for Missions by Paul Borthwick, NavPress, $5.95

Paul Borthwick, minister of missions at Grace Chapel in Lexington, Massachusetts, argues that Americans are under increasing pressure to “seek personal comfort and ease, to look for a self-centered relationship with God.” Therefore, Borthwick observes, American Christians are becoming worldly Christians instead of world Christians. Using ten building blocks, Borthwick offers a way for the believer to become more sensitized to missions. Among these steps are Scripture, current events, prayer, firsthand experience, giving, meeting missionaries, and lifestyle choices.

In this study book, which belongs especially in the hands of many college groups, Borthwick reminds us that Christians have fewer options than they think. Healthy discipleship and growth come only as believers involve themselves in mission.

The Interim Pastor’s Manual by Alan G. Gripe, Geneva, $7.95

At various times, almost every church is served by interim pastors. Alan Gripe, an official with the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.), has written this manual for his denomination, but his counsel applies to any church that’s between permanent pastors.

Among topics discussed are pastoral covenants, qualifications, preparation and placement of interims, circumstances that make it desirable for interims to be utilized, the special responsibilities of congregants and pastor during an interim stay, and, finally, equitable contracts and evaluations.

Although the whole book is thorough and effective, one particularly strong section is Gripe’s discussion of concerns that need attention during an interim. These include renewing the spiritual life of a congregation, repairing damage to relationships between congregation and denomination, preparing the congregation for its new pastor, and working out staff problems.

A Christian Guide to Sexual Counseling by Mary Ann Mayo, Zondervan, $16.95

Heresy in church history seems to arise more as excess of a good thing than as introduction of a bad. Mary Mayo, a family counselor, says that in a similar way, our society’s obsession with God’s wonderful gift of sex has robbed the Christian, and American society at large, of its benefits. Therefore, she feels obliged to reclaim healthy sexual attitudes in Part 1 of this book, “Recovering the Mystery.”

Part 2, “Discovering the Reality,” examines how God has made us to be sexual beings. Part 3, “Becoming One Flesh,” orients pastors and Christian counselors as they prepare to counsel couples with sexual difficulties. Finally, Part 4, “Special Concerns in Christian Sexual Counseling,” addresses sexual issues of particular concern to Christian leaders and counselors-homosexuality, adultery, and other aberrant behavior.

It’s refreshing to see sex discussed in the context of moral limits and with candor, good sense, and sound psychology.

Reviewed by James P. Stobaugh

Fourth Presbyterian Church

Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania

Pastors

THE BACK PAGE

Paul D. Robbins

Recently, the CTi Board of Directors met for the first of two 1988 meetings. These leaders, about half of them pastors, flew to Chicago to review the publishing operation, evaluate the previous year’s activities, dissect the finances, and consider management’s plan for the new year. It is the time when the board tests the integrity of the organization, and the staff accounts for six months of work.

Like many of you, I play two roles. As a board member/corporate of officer, I am charged with preserving the integrity of the organization’s purpose, processes, and products. As a staff member, I am “on the point” to give a full accounting.

The words integrity and accountability have been heard a great deal lately, given the media’s obsession with the presidential campaign and the TV preacher scandals. Thus, while preparing for the board meeting, I found myself thinking about these issues.

Someone has said that if integrity is the foundation upon which any worthy enterprise rests, then accountability is the cornerstone. Another metaphor depicts accountability as a knife. A good cutting instrument has two characteristics: it must be safe, and it must be sharp. A knife must have a soft edge-a durable, well-formed, easily grasped handle. Likewise it must have a hard edge-a sharp blade. The combination creates a useful tool. For me, accountability has similar characteristics: a soft edge and a hard edge.

The Soft Edge. Accountability compels me to recognize my need for others’ wisdom and support. In his newest book, Integrity, Ted Engstrom quotes Russ Reid as saying, “When Christian leaders hold their power loosely and listen to the counsel of others, they become more open and accountable.” Conversely, “when they choose to ‘go it alone,’ the results are usually devastating.”

Russ is right. The soft, protective edge of accountability requires my active pursuit and acceptance of others’ help. The one thing I can do by myself is fail. Directors, elders, and boards are given to us by God for our good; they are our resource, our support, our safety nets, our links with integrity. They keep us from tendencies toward self-deception and organizational destruction. They are co-laborers, confessors, colleagues, and friends.

In an earlier book, I remember Ted’s telling about a psychologist who said the early church practiced accountability by confessing sins to one another. When the Roman Catholic church emerged, it said that sins should be confessed to a priest. When the Protestants arrived, they said it was only necessary to confess sins to God. And when Freud came along, he said there were no sins to confess! A humorous analysis illustrating a gem of truth: the further we get away from others, the less accountable we become.

The Hard Edge. J. D. Batten captures the sharp edge of accountability in his book Tough-Minded Management. He says accountability is the understanding that a person must do his job or get out of the way so someone else can do it. Accountability means my neck is on the line. Integrity demands that the directors trip the guillotine if my job isn’t getting done.

However, Batten recognizes that such a hard and demanding conclusion is predicated upon something more than fuzzy assumptions and wish lists. Herein lies a common and widespread problem. I have no idea how many times a pastor or elder has complained to me about the performance of “them” or “him.” Usually, a few, short questions confirmed that the problem was a serious lack of mutual understanding about purpose, goals, expectations, and levels of performance. Strict accountability was genuinely desired (and sometimes threatened) by both parties; missing was the common ground of firm assumptions and well-defined expectations.

Batten suggests four questions as a basis for fair, just, and neck-on-the-line accountability:

1. Do both parties have a clear-cut understanding of the expected results? If not, why not?

2. Have both parties been given the opportunity to help determine corporate goals, particularly in their own area of expertise? If not, why not?

3. Have there been private discussions about strengths and weaknesses, with an emphasis on strengths? If not, why not?

4. In short, has the what, where, when, who, how, and, most importantly, the why of the task been understood and accepted? If not, why not?

Answers to these questions not only enable us to hold one another accountable for real accomplishment, but obligate us to do so. In fact, only a person without leadership integrity (or competence) would accept a position of responsibility if he or she could not get reliable answers to these questions.

The soft edge and the hard edge. Accountability means reaching out for help, support, and protection, but it also means doing my homework. Yes, it’s a chore to review, define, explain, and justify everything twice a year. (As a pastor, I did this once a month!) Yes, I fight the feeling that the more I explain, the more probing and prying I’ll face in the future.

But that’s why the hard edge is necessary. Accountability is a combination of both the soft and hard edges that cuts through to effectiveness.

Paul D. Robbins is executive vice-president of Christianity Today, Inc.

- More from Paul D. Robbins

Pastors

GAINING RESPECT THE OLD-FASHIONED WAY

Craig Brian Larson

How to earn the congregation’s esteem–and what to do when you don’t get it.

One day at my previous church, my sermon was coming in a rush. Then the telephone rang. It was Terry, one of our members.

After some beating around the bush, he finally said, “Pastor, we’re not going to attend at Central anymore.”

Although he softened his adios with compliments and nothing-personals, it came as a blow.

I answered grimly, “I hate to see you go, but I want what’s best for you and Karen.”

Actually, Terry’s departure was not a total surprise. For several months he and Karen had, inexplicably, grown distant, despite the fact I’d been giving them a lot of extra attention with several visits to their home. At those times, in an effort to lower barriers, I would shift out of the formal pastor mode and talk with them some about the White Sox and Cubs, about neighborhoods and Chicago politics. Somehow, the more I tried to be their friend, the stiffer our relationship grew.

Now it was ending.

I happened to know the pastor of the church they were transferring to, a man of tireless decorum. It seemed my “friends” wanted someone they could look up to, a pastor, not a pal.

Why Worry about Respect?

After some years in ministry, I have come to conclude that respect means a pastor stands on at least a low pedestal. If a pastor is not respected, the usual alternative is being humored or indulged.

I had assumed people would respect me simply for my commitment to Christ. My prayer life was strong, my study of Scripture sound, my motives good. But such secret things didn’t appear to matter.

I needed more of the pastoral “right stuff” that compels believers to heed a pastor’s preaching, follow his leadership, and emulate his example. In order to fulfill my calling to lead the church and disciple believers, I needed a certain measure of esteem from my people. But I shuddered at the idea of intentionally seeking respect; it smacked of becoming a self-promoting poseur. For the sake of effectiveness, though, I recognized it was necessary.

I also realized that respect for spiritual leaders is both commanded and expected in Scripture.

“Now we ask you, brothers, to respect those who work hard among you, who are over you in the Lord and who admonish you. Hold them in the highest regard in love because of their work” (1 Thess. 5:12-13). In comparison to their own “real jobs,” people sometimes trivialize the work of the pastor with comments such as, “What do you do all day?” or “Why do you need a day off?” or “It must be nice to just read the Bible and pray.” But our work rightly is to be highly regarded.

“Obey your leaders and submit to their authority. They keep watch over you as men who must give an account. Obey them so that their work will be a joy, not a burden, for that would be of no advantage to you” (Heb. 13:17). This implies a deference to the authorities’ leadership, something I saw several months ago in a committee meeting of nine pastors and our district superintendent.

“I’m not here to ram through my agenda,” the district superintendent said. “I want to know how you feel about this issue.” As the meeting progressed, we nevertheless could sense his preference, which was not the majority’s leaning. Several of the pastors expressed reservations but also said, in effect, “This is the way I feel, but if you think the proposed plan would be better for everyone involved, then I support you as the leader of our district.”

They were not being obsequious. I sensed that strong-willed individuals were voicing their opinion but then deferring to their superintendent’s leadership because they respected both him and his position.

How Much Is Too Much?

As with most good things, immaturity or the sinful nature can twist pastoral respect into something harmful. Sure, I would love my people to acquiesce to my every whim, celebrate a pastor appreciation Sunday once a month (or more), and revere me like a judge in a courtroom. But is that what God intended?

One pastor I heard at a conference said that he did not visit the homes of people in his congregation or dine with them, not even board members. That type of “hobnobbing” would cripple his ability to minister prophetically, he claimed.

So I watch my motives. Do I, like the Pharisees, delight in platform seats, greetings at the mall, head tables, titles? Do I tend to construe disagreement as rebellion?

But if my motives are pure, then the words of one retired pastor ring true: “A pastor must be a person who commands respect.” At first I didn’t like those words. They sounded too militaristic, too authoritarian. I dismissed them as a vestige of this pastor’s old, southern ways. As my ecclesiastic odometer has spun a bit, though, I’ve come to see that earning respect is too important to neglect.

Here are four ways we pastors can earn genuine respect.

Show Ourselves Worthy

Ernie Moen, a district superintendent in Illinois, says, “I cannot stand in the pulpit and command the congregation to respect me. It is earned by demeanor, by love, by character.”

Character and integrity are the bedrock of respect. Especially in this immoral age, a leader with probity stands out. That often means concerning ourselves with the small things. A pastor who is neither an embezzler nor an adulterer tarnishes his name nevertheless by forgotten appointments, rudeness, broken promises, unpaid bills, fitful office hours, fibs, gluttony, disorganization.

In addition to integrity, a pastor earns respect by competence. One pastor tells of a blunder that cost him respect: “It was Saturday, and our new building was scheduled for its inaugural service the next day. We had worked furiously the previous weeks and months to overcome construction delays. Now, with no time to spare, the inspector was there to look over the building and issue an occupancy permit.

“Thirty dusty volunteers from the church were standing around at the end of the day, leaning on brooms, when the city official walked across the bare cement floor and said to me, ‘There’s no way I can give you the permit. This building is not ready to go.’

“He went on to say a lot of harsh things, words he shouldn’t have used on anybody. I didn’t say anything to him, because I thought, I asked for an occupancy permit when we were not ready. I should have waited until all my ducks were in a row. This has backfired on me.

“I wasn’t prepared. As a result we had to cancel the meeting and our church dedication. That harsh, public turndown had a rippling effect that cost me considerable respect.”

Respect comes as we show ourselves trustworthy and competent in the minor details as well.

One Monday, Greg called. “Pastor, I want to take Bible courses at night,” he said enthusiastically. I suggested a school in the area, and he asked that I find the address and phone number.

“I’ll have it for you Wednesday night,” I said.

After we hung up, I wrote in my Day-Timer, Find info for Greg, and on Wednesday’s page, Give info to Greg. When I found the Formation, I wrote it on Wednesday’s page.

Two days later, after our church service, Greg tapped me on the shoulder to interrupt a conversation. “Pastor, I’m in a hurry,” he said. “Do you have that information?”

“Sure,” I replied. I opened my datebook, pointed to the number and address, handed him the book, and resumed my conversation. Later I found a note circled on my page, “Thanks, Pastor. You’re the greatest!”

Respect Ourselves

People take their cues about whether to respect a leader from the leader himself. Low self-esteem, which usually manifests itself in our bearing and facial expression and actions, announces, “I’m not sure I can lead this church effectively.”

Bob Schmidgall, pastor of Calvary Temple in Naperville, Illinois, says, “I’m sure there is a relationship between our self-respect and the level of respect we receive from others. Self-respect affects the way a person dresses, the way a person reacts to pressure situations, the way a person meets people. The one who does not respect himself tends to strike out, to push people away (when what he wants is for people to be close to him), to do the opposite of what should be done for good relationships.”

But when we esteem our God-given gifts and treat ourselves as persons of worth, we signal, “I believe God has equipped me to serve by leading. You can put your confidence in me.”

I once felt it was wrong to use personal illustrations that reflected well on me. I cringed as other ministers talked in sermons or books about their own accomplishments in prayer, study, or evangelism. To me it smacked of boasting. But I also noticed that church members found it challenging.

Since I rarely showcased my exploits, they didn’t think I had any. Instead, since I did admit my humanity, they figured me a second-rate pastor, thus diminishing my influence. So, like Paul in 2 Corinthians, I now force myself, occasionally, to illustrate with something God has done in my life, even if it does make me look good. I remembered that, for example, when I was writing this article and was tempted not to tell about finding the information for Greg.

Respect Our People

The habits and values of a community also affect the winning of respect. When I ministered to collegians, who customarily analyzed all sides of an issue and then formed conclusions, I taught Christian doctrine in similar fashion. I wanted to show my respect for their intelligence and to avoid being shrugged off as narrow-minded and dogmatic. The approach worked.

But when I moved to a congregation in inner-city Chicago, I discovered my people scorned such methods as spineless waffling. They wanted a forceful declaration of truth alone. To respect them meant I had to honor their need for clear, bold proclamation.

We cannot bend to every whim, but we earn respect by honoring our people’s expectations in clothing, vocabulary, office hours, leadership style. Paul showed it is not a character weakness to adapt for the sake of respect: “To the Jews I became like a Jew to win the Jews.”

A second way I’ve learned to respect my people is in the manner I handle the “partiality” that’s necessary in pastoral work. Whenever we select one person over others, the bypassed usually wonder, What’s wrong with me? Why didn’t the pastor choose me? Even fair choices can be misconstrued as favoritism.

In a business meeting at my previous congregation, we were to elect a new advisory board. In announcements prior to the meeting, I included, without explanation, these restrictions: “We urge everyone to attend, but only members may vote,” and “Only men are eligible for the advisory group.”

Immediately after one such announcement a woman raised her hand and asked, “Why can’t a woman be an adviser?” A week later someone told me that one man, who attended faithfully but ignored membership, had taken offense at being excluded from the vote, saying, “I’m just as good a Christian as anybody else in the church.”

At the heart of these complaints is the matter of respect. Both people felt snubbed. I didn’t then go out and change our guidelines, because in my opinion they weren’t unfair, but I did hasten to supply full explanations, which satisfied most. I have learned to explain before something can be misinterpreted as partiality, and to do it in an affirming way. For example, over the women’s issue, I made sure to communicate that women and men have equal worth in God’s sight and that the advisory group would seek the input of women. Then when I explained the church’s theological reasons for holding this position, even people who disagreed knew I did indeed respect them.

Confront Disrespectful Actions

There come times, however, for correction, even admonishment. As Paul told Titus, “Do not let anyone despise you.”

When facing disrespect, I take a page from parental experience. Because parents are responsible for molding children’s character and are in a position of authority, they don’t turn the other cheek to contempt; rather, they confront.

If overlooked, disrespect tends to be repeated, only next time more blatantly. The pastor’s authority and influence dwindle even with the respectful, who disappointedly shake their heads as they would at a mother who benignly lets her 3-year-old throw tantrums in the supermarket.

What, however, is genuinely disrespectful behavior? When is admonition truly in order, and when is the pastor just quick to the gauntlet, quick to duel? Based on the experience of several pastors I’ve talked to, a believer crosses the line of propriety through any of the following offenses:

A direct challenge to the pastor’s authority. One pastor tells, “In my first church I had a fellow who was a Diotrephes needing to have the preeminence. On one occasion, in an effort to assert himself, he said to me, ‘Why don’t you have your wife preach? She’s got more sense than you do.’ For that I felt I had to confront him, and I did.

“We didn’t have pleasantries during my entire tenure at that church. However, after many years I saw his daughter, who is now a pastor’s wife. She hugged me, cried, and told me how the family loves and appreciates me, and how I got them started right. There was a good relationship of respect built even though I didn’t let him run the church.”

Efforts to demean the pastor. Another pastor relates, “It was my second Sunday at this church. I was without staff, still trying to get my feet on the ground. After the service an elderly gentleman asked me to visit a man he had talked to in prison. I said I would do my best to get there.

“The next Sunday as he was walking to the door, he asked if I had seen that prisoner. I said no.

“He exploded, ‘You’re just like all the rest of them. You say you love souls, but given a chance, you won’t go.’ He continued to rant and rave. This was in the foyer with other people around.

“I grabbed him firmly by the hand and said, ‘Please step to my office so that we can speak in private.’ He refused. I then got him off to the side, along with a board member who saw this unfolding, and said, ‘Sir, I may have disappointed you by not making that visit, but I am the pastor. You may have been a Christian longer than I’ve been alive, but you will not address me in that tone of voice again.’

“He mumbled, ‘I’m sorry,’ and walked out the door. But he came back to the church and has been good as gold ever since.”

Excessive and unjustified criticism and complaints. “In a board meeting, one man accusingly said, ‘Pastor, why is the November missions income $200 short of October’s?’ as though I had failed my responsibility,” remembers one minister.

“I responded not by rebuking the person but by teaching the entire group. I said, ‘My job is to report the budget, and it’s the congregation’s job to support it.’ “

Questions before Confronting

After a recent midweek sermon, I encouraged discussion as I usually do. Joan stood, turned her back to me and her face to the congregation, and, as if rebutting an editorial, proceeded to disagree flatly with part of my message. She didn’t pose her remarks as a question or an opinion for my response; her comment came across as, “He’s wrong.”

I felt her remarks reflected terribly on me in public. Immediately I began to ask myself some important questions:

Was it deliberate? Larry Griswold, who pastors in Joliet, Illinois, says, “If someone expresses disrespect to me, my first response is to show a servant spirit, a meek spirit, toward that person. Whether it was done with deliberateness has to be proved over time, so I’m going to endure it for a while. Then, having proved the person’s spirit, I also will have demonstrated mine. On the strength of that, I am able to confront if necessary.”

Joan had a habit of tactlessly saying things, unintentionally hurting the feelings of many. So when she sat down, and her blue eyes calmly met mine as if nothing had happened, I merely said, “Joan, I will give that some thought.”

What is the person’s attitude toward me and authority in general? I knew Joan interceded daily for me and the church. So I didn’t think mischief was afoot, and I moved on: “Does anyone else have a question?” Others asked about this and that, and I answered in as warm and strong a voice as I could muster.

Will this undermine my respect with the rest of the congregation? If disrespect had been shown by someone who lacked credibility, no one would have thought twice. The effect on the church and on my leadership would have been nil. But Joan was the Sunday school superintendent and an opinion leader. Her deeds had weight. With its high stakes, public disrespect demands quicker response than private. I decided to talk with Joan after the service.

After the soothing tones of the closing prayer, I made brisk steps toward her, only to be waylaid by others with prayer requests. By the time I finished with them, she was gone.

How do others feel? Does anyone else take it seriously?

As I sat in my office a few minutes later, Vince, one of our leaders, walked in, closed the door, and said, “Pastor, do you want me to talk with Joan about what she said? That was terrible.” I was now even more convinced of the need for action.

I tried unsuccessfully to reach Joan by phone for several days. With more time for thought, other questions arose.

Am I unwittingly the cause of the problem? In this case I concluded that my demeanor invited aggressors. In recent weeks comments in the after-sermon discussion had become increasingly controversial and opinionated. But I had smiled and said nothing about them.

What are my motives? Others will sense any hint of pride, vengefulness, or defensiveness. Though confrontation may be in order, we must proceed humbly or people will perceive us as carnal, thus providing an excuse for pointing at the pastor, instead of themselves.

I could honestly say my motives were right, the welfare of Joan and the church uppermost in my mind. This decision steeled me to speak to her.

How will he or she respond? Will the person angrily pick up the phone and start churchwide earthquakes? Should I anticipate an unteachable response and minimize its harm, perhaps by discussing the situation with leaders in the church and including one of them in the meeting?

Joan is a conscientious disciple, but also strong-minded, so I didn’t know if she would agree or change, but I felt certain the church would not experience far-reaching aftershocks.

Who should confront? The involvement of other leaders can show the offender he or she has violated the sensibilities of all. And Vince had offered to correct Joan. But I felt I had to establish my authority, and she would consider me weak if I sent out hired guns.

On Saturday afternoon Joan finally answered the phone. After we exchanged pleasantries, I said, “Joan, I’m calling because of your comment at the end of Wednesday’s service.” I told her I felt it was disrespectful and that I hoped she would use more tact in the future.

Silence-for more than thirty seconds. Then she replied firmly, “I disagree. I certainly didn’t intend it to be disrespectful, and I don’t think it was. But if you interpreted it that way, I’m sorry.”

In measured tones I persisted and explained for half an hour. She never agreed, but the call ended amicably, with her assurances there would be no repeat performances.

The following Wednesday evening, Joan stood during the service, walked to the microphone, and apologized to the congregation, adding, “I wouldn’t want to have any other pastor.” We hugged and prayed. Since then our relationship, based firmly on mutual respect, has been stronger than ever.

-Craig Brian Larson is pastor of Arlington Heights (Illinois) Assemblies of God Church.

* * *

The Bible tells us to love our neighbors, and also to love our enemies; probably because they are generally the same people.

– G. K. Chesterton

- More from Craig Brian Larson

Pastors

Endangered by Endowments?

Lyle E. Schaller

The caution, at first, sounds unnecessary.

“If I’ve seen one church demoralized by excessive reliance on an endowment fund, I’ve seen at least twenty,” declared one denominational executive. “It’s a guaranteed way to pauperize a congregation.”

Many churches are tempted to dismiss this caution. Who wouldn’t want the “problem” of a large endowment?

A growing number of churches have been actively encouraging members to remember the congregation in their wills. So many have been so successful that it’s time to ask, “What if you encourage members to leave a tithe or more of their estate to your church, and they do it?”

A large bequest sounds wonderful. But horror stories abound of congregations that became dependent on the dead to pay the bills incurred by the living, thus draining the church’s vitality.

Who controls the endowment fund?

One congregation, for example, decided to construct a new sanctuary. They raised one-fourth of the cost in cash, received pledges over three years to pay for another fourth, and arranged a twelve-year mortgage to cover the balance. The income from the three-year pledges met the mortgage payments in the first years following completion of the new sanctuary.

During the third year, a committee was appointed to plan a new campaign to secure pledges for the second three years of mortgage payments. About that time, the committee received news that a member had died and her bequest to the church would provide income to more than cover the mortgage payments. The committee never met again.

A few years later, the finance committee found the budget requests exceeded the anticipated level of giving. No problem. They took the remainder of the bequest income to balance the budget.

Three years later the finance committee checked the terms of the bequest, discovered no restrictions on its use, and decided to “borrow” from the principal to cover a deficit in the congregational operating budget.

Ten years later none of the money borrowed from the endowment had been returned, and 75 percent of the principal had been used to meet local expenses.

The first moral from that story, which has been duplicated in many other congregations, is: Do not tempt the finance committee to balance the local operating budget by turning to the endowment.

The second moral: Dependency can be contagious, and one generation of finance committee members can catch it from a previous generation.

The third moral: When a committee borrows from one fund to cover a deficit in another, it’s easy not to return the funds, unless there’s some form of external accountability.

What is the alternative?

In response, most denominations have created foundations to handle bequests and other gifts, and they encourage members to leave their money to that foundation rather than to a local church. That concept, however, has met with less than overwhelming support because the vast majority of church members feel a stronger attachment to a particular congregation than they do to a denomination.

But during the past fifteen years, hundreds of congregations have identified a way to encourage a larger number of bequests while minimizing the negative effects of a large endowment. Their solution? Creating their own foundation or trust with its own set of trustees to administer the funds.

Usually this takes the form of a separate legal corporation, but sometimes it is created under the legal umbrella of that congregation’s incorporation as a nonprofit religious organization. In either case, the key is that no one can simultaneously be a trustee of the foundation and hold a policy-making position or fiduciary office in that congregation.

Typically the trustees of the foundation serve staggered terms of five, seven, or nine years. With such long terms in office, the trustees can develop the expertise and policies necessary for the good stewardship of the funds they administer. Among the benefits of a local-church foundation:

The foundation eliminates the temptation of the finance committee to act irresponsibly. Since the foundation receives and administers bequests, special gifts, and memorials, those items remain outside the congregation’s agenda, and the boards and committees of the congregation can concentrate on ministry, mission, stewardship, and outreach.

As a separate body, the foundation has its own reporting system. Thus, the finance committee’s report does not show a huge balance in investments at the end of the fiscal year – a figure that often discourages giving or encourages plundering. With the endowment funds administered/ invested, and controlled by the foundation rather than the finance committee, they remain outside the congregation’s annual statement of financial surpluses or investments.

Since these investments are not controlled directly by the congregation, the “Why should I increase my giving when this church has hundreds of thousands of dollars in the bank?” question is largely diminished.

As a separate legal entity, a foundation has an easier time establishing and maintaining restrictions on the use of these funds. Frequently the foundation allocates most of the income to missions, scholarships, and matching grants for launching new ministries or for maintenance of the property. If the building needs a new roof, the foundation may contribute one dollar for each two dollars given by members.

This arrangement makes it difficult for the finance committee to “borrow” from the endowment fund to offset the summer slump or to pay for unexpected repairs to the building that are not covered by the budget. Through the matching-fund concept, the endowment can thus stimulate rather than stifle responsible stewardship.

The responsible actions of the foundation trustees may encourage members to remember the foundation in their wills, secure in the knowledge their funds will be used wisely.

When properly handled, those gifts of love can continue to stimulate, challenge, and enrich the congregation long after the givers are gone. There can never be too much of that good effect.

– Lyle E. Schaller

Yokefellow Institute

Richmond, Indiana

Leadership Spring 1988 p. 88-9

- More from Lyle E. Schaller

Pastors

IN SEARCH OF ORDINARY EXCELLENCE

C. David Gable

Excellence has become our new ideal. I’ve been depressed ever since. I just can’t seem to muster enough wonderfulness to measure up.

In Search of Excellence sits on a shelf by my bed for inspirational reading. A book that motivates millions, it was given to me by a friend who, I think, meant well. I bogged down in the third chapter.

The idea generally seems to be that we are to do the best, buy the best, have the best, be the best; that we work to deserve that superb rating; that we attain, excel, get to the top.

What red-blooded achiever could argue against such an exalted theme? Me. I’ve got to.

It just hasn’t worked for me. I’ve tried, but I can’t pull it off. I set out to be excellent and end up confused and frustrated.

One of my problems is, “Excellent compared to whom?” I can’t think of anything I do but what somebody I know does it better. Joe is more disciplined to exercise. Bob plays better golf, Hymman is more organized, Powell sings better, G. L. tells funnier stories, and everyone on our block keeps up his front yard better. And those are just the local comparisons.

Television puts excellence in every living room, so we see national or world best. Pity the local preacher whose flock stacks his sermons against the nation’s finest communicators. Or the hometown soprano who feels she must compete with the extraordinarily gifted and trained television singers.

If excellence comes by comparison, by excelling among my peers, I quit. Ordinary is my ceiling. I find “the judge of what is excellent” as another problem. Excellent by whose standards? Esquire’s? Business Week’s? Or the Word of God’s?

I know what a Miss America looks like, but how about a Miss Kingdom of God? Hard to see, isn’t it? By the world’s standard, once again, I may end up ordinary. Should I care? In some cases, as a plaque in my office says, IT DON’T MATTER.

A final troublesome aspect of excellence is that we can get so hooked on the idea of excelling that when we realize we can’t be number one, we quit in despair. If I can’t be Billy Graham, I won’t say anything publicly about God. If I can’t win the Boston Marathon, I won’t even enjoy a morning jog. Nonsense. My efforts may be classified as ordinary, but they are my efforts, and I’ll have the excitement and challenge of making them, thank you.

So now, with tongue somewhat in cheek, I’ve challenged the quest for excellence and best. Is this the end of the matter? No, because God designed us to do things and to care about the quality of the doing. I may scrap the idea of being “world’s best,” but never the goal of being “my best.”

In vacation Bible school, kids prayed at dismissal time: “I will do the best I can with what I have where I am for Jesus’ sake today.” If this is what excellence means, I can live with it. Ordinarily.

– C. David Gable

City Center Assembly of God

Fresno, California

Adapted with permission from Pentecostal Evangel, June 7, 1987.

Leadership Spring 1988 p. 86

- More from C. David Gable

Pastors

Turning Points: 8 Ethical Choices

James D. Berkley

Some decisions in the ministry are complex … and unavoidable.

We are highlighting Leadership Journal's Top 40, the best articles of the journal's 36-year history. We will be presenting them in chronological order. Today we present #29, from 1988. This article was paired with one on pastoral ethics by Archibald Hart: Being Moral Isn't Always Enough: What you may do and what you should do are two different things.

A code of ethics for pastors, according to some, is about as necessary as Reeboks for a jaguar. After all, ministers live and breathe morality, don't they? Their job is upholding a community's ethics, isn't it? So why a code for pastors?

Yet one glance through recent news highlights would indicate that such an opinion is now in the minority. Where once the assumption was that pastors are ethical, except for the odd bad apple, now there's widespread distrust.

"I'm almost embarrassed to be introduced as a clergyman anymore," confesses one Presbyterian pastor.

Why Bother with a Code?

Professionals have formulated codes of ethics since the time of Hippocrates in the fifth century B.C. His vow to protect confidences and to do no harm elevated the medical profession.

The preamble to the American Nurses' Association's "Code for Nurses" begins, "A code of ethics makes explicit the primary goals and values of the profession. When individuals become nurses they make a moral commitment to uphold the values and special moral obligations expressed in their code." Having it written out explicitly aids nurses, who have something to turn to in times of moral questioning.

Pastors may not have an explicit code of ethical behavior, [since this article was published, the National Association of Evangelicals developed one for pastors and another for congregations], but they are wise to wrestle through the key questions and develop a personal code, something that both speaks to their needs and reflects their best understanding of what sound Christian ethics dictate.

Thus, here is a "do-it-yourself kit" to raise ethical questions, supply a variety of responses, and help pastors construct their own codes.

The following eight sections outline broad areas of ethical concern. In each section, questions are raised and a case study illustrates how at least one of those questions hits home in the ministry. A panel of twelve Christian leaders, who were asked to offer their experience-tempered opinions, provides a variety of options.

Beliefs: Candor vs. Assurance

Christian ministry rests on a sacred body of beliefs. A pastor's adherence to those beliefs is obviously necessary. Pastors feel the need to remain faithful to the essential beliefs of their ordaining bodies. But problems arise. Sometimes beliefs, although genuine, change. Study, new insight, interaction with peers-all can serve to modify understanding, and when that initial understanding changes, an ethical dilemma appears. Consider the case of Murray Wells, who fears injuring members' faith (all the following cases are fictionalized accounts of pastoral experiences):

Murray Wells is a scholarly pastor. He's fluent in the original biblical languages and an excellent exegete. Recent study has convinced him that his church's policy regarding women's roles is neither biblically nor sociologically sound. He realizes change is needed in his independent congregation. But that involves amending the by-laws and conventionalities-not to mention the hard-held beliefs-of a tradition-bound congregation.

Murray thinks he ought to try. As part of his plan, he decides to preach on Paul's writings about women and leadership. But he's not so sure that's a good idea. Murray's fear: To present the whole picture, he will have to face and resolve some difficult textual and exegetical questions. Murray knows he won't knowingly do anything to undermine the authority of Scripture, but will his people understand? He fears the controversy might damage the tender faith of young believers.

What should Murray do? The responses of our panel varied.

"As preachers, we're not seeking confirmation or consensus; we're looking for truth. Murray needs to preach the truth, but that takes the pastoral ability to allow people to have opinions that differ from his own," said Charles Farr, rector of Epiphany Episcopal Church in Denver, Colorado.

"We need to preach the Word without apology where it's clear," suggested Duane Litfin, who pastors First Evangelical Church in Memphis, Tennessee, "but difficult exegetical questions call for humility. I'd work with other leaders of the church. We don't function by ourselves; other godly leaders surround us."

Several thought it unwise to begin a controversy in a public forum such as preaching. Emma Richards, pastor of Lombard (Illinois) Mennonite Church, suggested a long-range strategy of tackling the subject in a seminar setting.

Other questions also arise out of the belief issue. For example, what should pastors do when personal theology begins to depart from the understanding of those who ordained them? Of the dozen pastors we asked, about half thought it best to inform the local church and denominational authorities in a low-key way and decide with them what to do. The other half endorsed gentle but straightforward efforts to sway the congregation.

The magnitude of the issue proved the deciding factor. Small issues can be preached as if there were no problem. "If it's something minor, I'd just preach straight ahead and not make a big deal about it," offered Robert Oglesby, who ministers at Waterview Church of Christ in Richardson, Texas. "If I don't win the day, I won't beat it to death." Such a preaching and teaching plan was a common response for minor issues.

If the issue is major-a key denominational doctrine or a cornerstone belief-the consensus was to draw attention to it in the right circles, and even to resign quietly if necessary.

"When you assume a pastorate, you make a covenant to work within that belief system. If you find yourself no longer comfortable with that ethical demand, then you need to inform church leaders about your change of heart and be submissive to what they want to do about it," said Paul Bubna, pastor of Long Hill Chapel in Chatham, New Jersey. None of our panel counseled quiet subversion in major matters.

A lesser dilemma occurs when preaching from a "Gordian knot" passage-one for which, despite all the untangling you do, you just can't arrive at a definite interpretation. You don't know what you really believe about the passage, and yet you need to preach it. What do you say?

"I tell folks, 'I'm no authority. I'm a struggler,' " said Don Finto, pastor of Belmont Church in Nashville.

"When a passage is full of options I haven't been able to master, I give people the full range and then present my own view, but not dogmatically. But such situations should be uncommon," said Earl Schamehorn, general headquarters administrator for the Free Methodist Church of North America.

Paul Bubna put it this way: "If you preach expositionally, part of the commitment is to be honest about the journey. I might say, 'This passage is like a piece of fish: There are bones in it, but that doesn't keep us from picking off the meat.' " Two-thirds of the panel agreed, and the other third thought it best to preach only the parts you know or to avoid the passage altogether until you have a firm grasp on its meaning.

Service: Altruism vs. Realism

Pastors are not "in the business" for themselves. God has called them to minister to others; it's God they want to serve.

Yet, the problem is being realistic about that selfless attitude. Ministers learn early on that balancing church and nonchurch needs spells the difference between effective ministry and effectively draining oneself of all capacity to minister. Most pastors work throughout ministry to fine-tune that balance. Consider the following case:

Otto Kovak, now in his third decade of ministry, has a dilemma. His wife, Sophie, is suffering through a postmenopausal depression, and Otto is suffering beside her.

Sophie is under expert care, but the symptoms of depression cloud her every day. She sleeps poorly, often waking Otto several times a night. Beginning the day marks a dreary routine-get Sophie out of bed and groomed, fix breakfast and make her eat, try to cheer her up, worry about her safety as he leaves for work. Often Otto can't get into the office until 9:30, and several times a week he has to rush home to make sure Sophie doesn't follow through on her vague threats of suicide. Sometimes he talks with her for an hour at a time on the office phone.

Sophie, very simply, is demanding so much of Otto that he can't give what he ought to ministry. His neglect is starting to show, and his people, as much as they love him, are beginning to display a little resentment behind their outward concern for Sophie and him. What is he to do?

The panel's suggestions:

Paul Koehneke, pastor of Trinity Lutheran Church in St. Joseph, Michigan, came up with four options: resign, take a leave of absence, find help to keep her at home, or temporarily place her in a nursing facility. "I'd research the options," he said. "Then I'd share those options with the board. Talking over the problems, we could come up with a course of action that I could ask them to work on with me."

"Almost any problem will shrink if you will be open with it," advised Harold Englund, a senior staff member at the Crystal Cathedral in Garden Grove, California. "Tell people what you're afraid of, and you make them your allies. Otto would do his people a favor by saying, 'Years ago I stood at the head of a church aisle and told my wife I would stick with her in sickness and in health. She needs me now, and that means I need you.' People, I find, are willing, even anxious to help us. Otto is worrying about how the congregation is reacting. If he will but name the demon, it probably won't hurt him."

Robert Oglesby suggested other strategies: "Use your phone more. Keep a time log to show that although you might not be there at nine in the morning, you're still at work at nine at night. Report your hours in writing to the board. Then rely on the board to help you make the right decision."

When pastoral needs collide with family needs, what do you do? Three of our panel leaned toward favoring pastoral needs, five sat firmly on the fence, and four almost always favored family needs. Here are some typical responses:

For pastoral needs: "My family is as committed to ministry as I am. If they weren't, I wouldn't be a pastor." "Families can sometimes be unreasonable." "It seems in recent years the pendulum might have swung too far in favor of families."

Fence sitters: "It depends on where the family is at the time." "I'm inclined toward the pastoral needs, but if there's an important event to go to with my family, I'll show up-although I might be late!"

For family needs: "My vows of marriage were not set aside when I was ordained. They're a prior commitment." "The pastoral care for my congregation happens when I'm meeting the pastoral needs of my family."

Morality: Boldness vs. Prudence

Does a pastor take the safe course, avoiding exposure to sinful situations? Or is a certain amount of moral risk necessary in order to carry out effective ministry? Consider Jess Lloyd:

From the time his body temperature heated up in puberty, Jess Lloyd fought a battle with lust. Becoming a pastor brought added responsibility and expectations, but it didn't calm his barely managed libido. Only by prayer, fear, and will power did Jess remain faithful to his wife.

Recently Jess was moved deeply by the testimony of a young runaway girl who had been rescued through an inner-city chaplaincy network. Through her, he saw the need of the exploited urchins at the city core. He immediately signed up for a weekly shift on street patrol.

Armed with a clerical collar and love, Jess began spending six hours a week walking the skid row streets in the late evening. This put him where the hurt was, and he was able to help some desperate kids. But it also immersed him in a sex-laden culture full of porno shops and kiddie call girls.

More and more, Jess found his mind filled with images of the night long after his stints. One day as he caught his fantasies resting on a girl in his youth group, Jess thought, I'm losing the battle! But he still ached for the welfare of the kids on the street. What is the responsible thing to do?

"Preachers sometimes think they have halos, but the halos are more vapor than substance," said Paul Koehneke.

A Dwight Moody statement paraphrased by Paul Bubna makes a similar point: "People go bankrupt in spiritual ministry for the same reason they do in business: they try to run too large a business on too little capital."

We asked our group if it is better to: (a) risk reputation for the sake of ministry opportunities, (b) take some risks but confine them to relatively safe areas, or (c) avoid the possibility of a fall from overestimating one's moral strength. One of them responded with a qualified a, five hovered between b and c, and six were solidly on c.

"There may come a time when I have to decide if it's worth risking some misunderstanding for the sake of ministry, but God never calls me to compromise my integrity," said Duane Litfin.

"There are times when you have to run some risk, but a risk like Jess's is stupid," said Harold Englund.

The universal guidance for Jess was to get out; it's not worth the risk. But that doesn't mean an end to his concern for runaways, or even ministry with them.

"I'd tell him, 'Jess, God has many servants; you're not the only one. Call attention to the need and raise up others to minister there.' Jess could form a small task force. He could use the buddy system. When the risk goes up, spread it. Otherwise you make yourself a lightning rod," said Harold Englund.

"Jess needs to bring in trusted brothers to counsel him. He's got to lay bare his thought life. He has a problem in not letting anybody know he's tempted. It will only grow in seclusion," said Don Finto.

Competence: Drive vs. Contentment

Ministers can never know enough. They forever dangle between the need to grow more competent and the conflicting time demands that hinder formal study or even regular reading.

Consider the following example:

"Pastor Jim, have you finished that book I gave you last month?" Bob Drovdahl asked. Jim looked blank. "You know, the one about economics and the end times? It's a great book. Have you found it interesting?"

Now Jim remembered. Bob had palmed it off on him, and Jim hadn't really known what to say at the time. "In all honesty, Bob," he replied, "I think it's still on the corner of my desk in my 'to read' pile, and the pile is pretty tall!" It hadn't moved in the month.

Bob let it drop, but he left muttering under his breath, and Jim could guess what he was saying: "You'd think a preacher would want to improve his mind. What's he do all day? Isn't he supposed to study?"

Jim thought, What makes him think I have the time to read any old book that strikes his fancy? If only he knew how many other books I want to read but don't have the time! Jim had his hands full at that church, and his goal of a day a week for pure study had suffered. As he booted up his computer to scan the visitor list, Jim dismissed the incident: Doesn't Bob know we covered that subject in seminary?

How can Jim manage with integrity the demands of his parishioners and his need for continuing growth, on the one hand, and the other competing demands of parish life and his own personal needs? "There will always be people who think they know better than you how you should run your life," lamented Robert Thune, pastor of Christ Community Church in Omaha. "I don't want to be insensitive, but I'm not about to be steered in every direction by such people. I won't compromise long-term effectiveness for the short-term gain of pleasing someone."

What should Jim do? "First, I'd confess I'm really busy and make no promises," suggested Robert Oglesby. "Second, I'd quickly scan the book to pick up an idea or two-enough to talk about it. Then when Bob came back, I'd say, 'Tell me more about the book from your viewpoint.' I want to get Bob's agenda. It may have nothing to do with my study habits. But I'm like a stray dog at a whistlers' convention if I try to do everything the Bobs of this world ask me to do."

There's a broader question lurking in these responses: How much should pastors push themselves? When asked about the balance between forever striving and finding contentment, pastors varied in their approach. Most thought it best for pastors to continue learning and growing, but to subordinate it to other demands and expectations. For instance, Robert Oglesby said, "It comes down to being task oriented or people oriented. We can't line up too far in either direction. Focus on one or the other and you leave yawning gaps: Jesus modeled both orientations."

"Who can be against improving ourselves?" Paul Bubna asked. "All the same, we have to be careful that the glory of God is the reason to develop our gifts and skills. Matthew 6:33 comes to mind: 'Seek ye first the kingdom of God, and all these things'-positions, influence-'will be added unto you.' This isn't a game of spiritualized self-actualization."

The other alternatives-continually pushing oneself and, conversely, resting content in what one does well-attracted some. Robert Thune said, "Striving can be overdone to the point that you become frenetic, and that's no good, but it is good to put steady pressure on yourself to keep moving ahead."

"I don't want to rest content with only what is," Emma Richards said, "but I have to be realistic about my limits. But then sometimes God surprises me. I'll do something or think a new thought, and I'll say to myself, Isn't it amazing how God works through me! Even when we don't strive, God can still be at work."

Compensation: Satisfaction vs. Assertiveness

To neither expect too much nor accept too little: the eternal quandary of the pastorate. Only a tiny percentage of pastors can ever expect to make what most professionals would consider a good living. But pastors don't enter the ministry for fat wallets. They answer a call to serve.

Still, they hope to be treated fairly. They have families to support and bills to pay. They don't want to live in penury-especially when the rest of the church is comfortable.

Besides wanting to strike a balance between the gold digger and the carpet man, pastors are concerned that their own business and financial matters remain free of unseemly gain or undignified practices. Stewardship, with all its ramifications, is an important matter. That's why Maria had a problem:

Maria Ruis, who pastors a small, inner-city flock, could count on it like clockwork: Some time the week before Christmas, Fernando Ortiz, a prominent baker in her neighborhood, would walk into her church office and with a flourish plop a $500 check on her desk. It would be made out in her name; he wanted her to have it, he'd say, "for all you've done for us this year."

Then on Christmas Eve, Fernando would be seen walking down the main aisle of the church as if he owned the place, stopping to greet old friends and shake hands like a politician on the stump. Fernando, part of the Christmas and Easter crowd, was irrepressible.

Fernando genuinely liked Maria, and he could afford the $500. But Maria felt uncomfortable. She knew his gifts to the church weren't all that much for a man of his wealth. And sometimes at community occasions, she felt vaguely patronized by Fernando. Does he think he's somehow buying God's favor by being generous with the pastor? she sometimes wondered.

Maria definitely could use the money. The church didn't pay much, and it was almost assumed that members' generosity would help her out a little. Maria vacillated. Should she continue accepting the gift?

The panel's responses ranged from "Yes. Accept it; he wants to give it" to "Never, unless you have a special arrangement with your church board." A lot depended on the circumstances.

Charles Farr asked, "Is it being given as a temptation or as a reward? Is this an opportunity to improve her character or to test her recognition of sincere gifts?"

Paul Koehneke wondered, "Is a gift or an obligation being given? I wouldn't want it if there were strings attached."

Duane Litfin joined Paul: "Does Maria feel compromised? If so, she shouldn't let Fernando get a handle on her through a gift. If there's the sense that Fernando is purchasing something, I'd fight like death the urge to accept the check."

B. Edgar Johnson, general secretary of the Church of the Nazarene, observed, "It seems Maria is sensing that the gift is a kind of payoff to God. If I sensed Fernando was in a sense 'tipping' God rather than supporting the work of the kingdom, I would be hesitant to accept it."

So what should Maria do? The panel suggested getting at the question of Fernando's spiritual health. Robert Oglesby gives this method: "In situations like this, I sometimes surface the absolute worst agenda-put the worst possible face on the person's motives-but I do it disarmingly. I might say, 'Fernando, I'm beginning to get a strange feeling. Is it all right if I talk about it?' He'll almost always say yes. 'I could be crazy as a loon, but I get the feeling that we're doing some kind of trade here, that you want something from me. Now you're probably going to tell me I've lost my marbles. In fact, I hope you do, because I sure wouldn't want to feel compromised by your generous gift.'

"At this point Fernando, no matter what his original motive, will probably fall all over himself to deny any base motives. Then I can say, 'I'm sure glad that's the case, Fernando, but could you, perhaps, tell me what were your motives?' Even if Fernando had the worst motives, at this point he would spruce them up. And the funny thing is, his motives will change following such a confrontation. He can't stand the cognitive dissonance. I've seen it work many times."

Paul Bubna would likewise swing the conversation: "Fernando, if you want to give me a gift, I have other gifts I'd appreciate more than money. I'm trying to win people's hearts to God, and you might be able to help. Would you be willing to make yourself available to serve the church in other ways?" At any rate, it is no favor to allow Fernando to continue comfortably in nominalism.

Colleagues: Competition vs. Conspiracy

Some people fear that physicians do such a good job covering for one another's mistakes that it nearly amounts to a conspiracy. On the other hand, it wouldn't seem particularly professional for them to be harping on the variant practices of another. How do you show professional courtesy to a colleague without necessarily covering for mistakes? This is what fellow pastors asked regarding Eddie Holmes.

When Eddie Holmes was ordained, they laid hands on a dynamo. Coming to a small-town church, he took the place by storm. His work days stretched to seventeen hours. Somebody need a call? He'd be there. Somebody need a ride to the city? Eddie would drive. The other pastors in town looked on him with a mixture of respect and incredulity. "He sees my parishioners in the hospital before I do," gulped one pastor, "and he led one to the Lord!"

Still, there was an odd side to Eddie. You couldn't depend on him to follow through on joint projects. He wrote a long, rambling letter to one pastor "rebuking" him for vague offenses. Then persistent rumors linked Eddie with an older widow, and later with a high school girl, and the sources seemed credible. Hints of instability caused fellow pastors to worry about Eddie's emotional health.

When a woman with teenage daughters writes the ministerial association to ask about a church of Eddie's denomination to join when she moves to town, how should they respond? What, if anything, should they say to Eddie?

"The woman is going to find out about Eddie sooner or later," Emma Richards reasoned, "so it's foolish to ignore the potential problem. I'd say, 'Yes, there is a church of your denomination in our town, and some of the other churches are … ' That's noncommittal, but it gets the point across."

Robert Oglesby would use a like method if he were convinced of the facts about Eddie. "I'd call the woman and ask if she's a good listener," he said. "Then I'd say, 'Listen very carefully. Eddie Holmes is a wonderful mixer with people and he gets along one-to-one very well, and that's what I have to say about his preaching.' I don't want to slander Eddie, but this way at least I've gotten the woman's attention."

Robert Thune feels as a shepherd he would have to warn the sheep if something were amiss. "I'd say, 'There might be some irregularities in that ministry, so I'd encourage you to go directly to Eddie.' "

What to say to Eddie? The panel was almost evenly split between approaching Eddie or leaving it to his friends or supervisor. It basically depended on their relationship with Eddie. As Paul Bubna said, "I'd have to earn the right to be heard as a friend with genuine concerns. Otherwise it would become a shooting match."

"There are no expendable people, and that means both Eddie and those he might expend through his lack of wisdom," said B. Edgar Johnson. "Someone who knows him and cares needs to intervene to help Eddie find balance. Is there a supervisor to whom he reports? That would be the key person."

Courtesy to one's predecessor and successor in a pastorate extends beyond matters of backbiting or malpractice. We asked our panel, "When can a pastor return to a prior pastorate to preach or perform weddings, funerals, or baptisms/dedications?"

Three said never. Their reason: "The new pastor can never adequately build an identity as leader if the former pastor always pops up," said Earl Schamehorn.

Six thought it okay "upon invitation or permission by the successor." Robert Thune elaborated: "If someone wants me to come back, I'll say, 'I'd love to, but I want you to ask your new pastor about it. If it's okay with him, have him invite me.' That way the pastor knows I'm respecting his turf."

Two felt good about returning at any time. "We're not engaged in some kind of competition," Don Finto explained. "If the present pastor has difficulty with my returning, then it's his problem. He doesn't have to 'establish himself'; the Lord establishes a pastor."

Confidentiality: Disclosure vs. Secrecy

"Of course what I told you is in strictest confidence!" Pastors' brains swim with privileged information, things they may tell no one. Refraining from gossip is one matter, but sometimes confidentiality puts a pastor in a bind, as Stan Brunner found.

Stan Brunner grew up in a mill town in Ohio, so he was used to labor unrest. But as pastor of a little community church in West Virginia, he found himself caught in the middle. On Sunday, Stan would see both the mill superintendent and the union chief sitting in his congregation. Stan was especially close to Walter, the superintendent, but he had warm regard for Jerry, the union man, too. And right now, the two could hardly speak to each other.

The company was laying off workers right before Christmas. Jerry was hopping mad, and Walter was under enormous pressure. Sitting in Stan's family room, Walter lamented, "Stan, nobody knows what I've done for my workers. Just between you and me, the company wants to close this operation! I've worked like a dog to retain any of the jobs around here, and yet I get pilloried for the reductions. To hear Jerry and the rest talk, I'm trying to break the union. Stan, I'm scrambling to save the plant!"

Later that week Stan had coffee with Jerry in the cafe by the works. "Stan," Jerry said, "I just don't understand Walter. Here he is, a fellow Christian-my brother in the Lord-and yet he's out to destroy all I've worked for. You can't count the number of men whose futures are being wrecked by that man. How can he do this to us?"

Is this a time for Stan to say what he knows?

No one in our group would counsel Stan to spill Walter's story. As Emma Richards put it, "He has a sacred trust, so he cannot confide what Walter told him in confidence. But with a little creativity, he can guide Jerry's thinking."

Don Finto would speak directly: "Jerry, I know Walter, just as I know you, and I can assure you Walter is walking in integrity. Please be very cautious in judging him. You may well not have all the evidence." That would be the start, according to Don, but then he'd want to "get them together to pray for one another and release each other from disagreement."

Harold Englund spoke about the bind Stan is in: "Both Walter and Jerry seem to want to co-opt Stan as an ally-'If you fully understand, you'll agree with me!' Stan's job is to be a moderator, not a mediator. Henry Kissinger tried to serve as a mediator through his shuttle diplomacy in the Middle East. Jimmy Carter moderated Sadat and Begin face to face at Camp David, and that worked. Stan should get Walter and Jerry together, because what they say to each other is more important than what either says to Stan."

In general, when can a pastor disregard the normal expectations of confidentiality? Seven panel members thought the trust should never be broken, although some would allow it in cases where legally required to do so. Four gave cautious and qualified permission to "leak" some information in cases in which another responsible party could help, and even then, permission of the first party should be sought.

Duane Litfin had a solo opinion: "Sometimes I'm legally, morally, and spiritually required to speak up. I make a point of never promising absolute confidentiality. When people say, 'Don't tell anyone what I'm going to say,' I probe their reasons. And I tell them, 'I have some existing commitments to uphold. For instance, I don't keep secrets from my wife. There are many things I choose not to tell her, but I don't want there to be anything I cannot tell her.' "

Paul Bubna leaned in this direction, too, although his vote went toward never divulging confidential information. "A pastor has to tell people on occasions that they ought not to expect him to respect confidentiality. In cases such as marital infidelity, I might say, 'Holding this information confidential puts me in an awkward position with your spouse. If you continue to see this other person, then I need to tell you I cannot remain a party to deceit. I'll need to talk to your spouse.' That makes our understanding clear."

Friendships: Special vs. Equal

"Come down, come down from your ivory tower" went the words to an old song. For at least a generation, pastors have been given the same counsel. Many swear that friendships have been their greatest lifesaver in ministry. And besides, friendships are fun. They can, however, cause problems.

From Erik Olson's first day in the new pastorate, Bill's boyish sense of humor had meshed with his own. Erik simply liked being with Bill, and Bill felt the same. Perhaps it was because both were reasonably new or both had come from blue-collar families and were now in an upper-class crowd. Whatever the reason, they became fast friends.

Many Sundays, Bill and Erik would take their families to the same restaurant after church. They played handball two mornings a week and managed to grab lunch together a couple of times a month. Last summer their families vacationed together at Bill's lake cabin. Erik could relax with Bill. When they were together, Bill wasn't a church member; he was just a good friend.

Bill was also deeply involved in the church. Recently he was named to the budget committee, whose duties included proposing pastoral salaries. Bill thought Erik deserved a significant raise, and was working to get it passed.

Not everybody appreciated the Erik-Bill friendship. One elder was overheard telling another, "Marsha and I would love to take the Olsons to lunch after church, but Bill has him booked up." A deacon was upset to learn that Erik was off on vacation with Bill just when his mother was in the hospital. An older couple had taken the previous pastor's family under their wing but were sad to find Erik's family either didn't need or want such special attention.

Erik's best alternative? Panel members were remarkably univocal: keep the friendship but lower the intensity and visibility. Some sample counsel:

Robert Thune: "Ministers need to be 'reach-out' people. Erik has to reach out to all the people. Even a simple touch can mean a lot. Then he can continue his friendship with Bill, but with more discretion."

Emma Richards: "Regularly going out in public with Bill for Sunday dinner is not wise. He shouldn't flaunt his friendship."

Harold Englund: "Bill's service on the budget committee adds problems. Erik could say to the board, 'Let's widen the budget process by bringing in outside expertise. I'm uncomfortable with Bill's bearing so much responsibility there. I don't think that's fair for him or the rest of us since he and I are close.' "

On the question of pastors' friends in general, eleven panelists felt close friendships within the congregation were "possible," "beneficial," or "necessary." Don Finto said that pastors are often too isolated, and without such friendships they are "potentially in danger because they have no personal accountability, no one to whom to say, 'I'm tempted; I'm feeling weak.' We have to defend in every way our need for friendships but go about them in a way that causes as little jealousy as possible."

Charles Farr stood alone in his uneasiness with friendships from within a congregation. "A pastor constantly has to 'unself' himself," he began. "Even at personal cost, it's best to keep close friendships outside the congregation. Sheep are sheep, and to have favorites is to jeopardize the rest of the flock."

General Principles

Wrestling with these common pastoral situations, ministers can come up with their own sets of responses. But it may be helpful to pass those decisions through one more ethical screen. These broad questions can be asked of any ethical decision:

Is this for the glory of God, or does it simply enhance my own self-interest? That first commandment to have no other gods is probably the toughest of the ten. We like to worship the one wearing our wingtips. Truthfully answering this question often means wading through a pool of our own rationalizations, but it's worth it.

Is this best for others, and will it render no harm? In Ephesians 5:21, Paul summarizes his section of how Christians ought to treat one another: "Submit to one another out of reverence for Christ." He goes on to use that principle as the basis for love in marriage. It's difficult in marriage and doubly difficult in a church, because in both arenas we run against conflicting wills. Yet as we look at Christ, we notice that his every decision was based on this principle: What is best for them?

Is this my best response, reflecting the highest of moral and ethical standards? In all likelihood, we can get away with much more than we should. We can get by with the least-acceptable standards-for a time.

In Charles Sheldon's classic, In His Steps, people decide to make their choices by what Jesus would do in the situation, and the results are radical. Measured against what Jesus would do, our little rationalizations and petty decisions look little and petty, as well they should. We can do worse than to ask, Is God receiving the best of me?

Does this decision hold up to public scrutiny? Is it something I'd be proud to let anyone know? This "bright-light principle" wards off shady dealings as a night light keeps monsters out of the nursery. How eager are we to autograph our decisions? Couples who live together before marriage know the awkwardness of divulging their living arrangements. Couples who are married return to the same address and bed with the full endorsement-even encouragement-of everyone. Any moral decision that can't be publicly proclaimed is probably worth a second thought.

Ethics-nobody can do it for us. Only we, with the power of the Holy Spirit, can chart our own ethical course and hold ourselves on it. The experiences and observations of others tell us where not to go, but the tiller is in each of our hands. How we steer makes the difference between shipwreck and delivering the goods at the final destination.

James D. Berkley is associate editor of LEADERSHIP.

- More from James D. Berkley

Pastors

HOLDING YOUR GROUND

John R. Wetherwax

How to maintain your integrity when everyone wants you to give in.

The young woman sitting across from me in the living room of her home looked angry and hurt. “What do you mean you’re not going to baptize my baby?”

I wanted to say, “Look, I don’t even know you. Only on rare occasions have you come to worship in all my years in this community. If you want your baby baptized, then show me some evidence of your Christian faith!” But I felt uncomfortable and awkward, so I kept things “pastoral.”

“No, Linda,” I said, “I will be glad to baptize Michael, but first I would like to ask you to come and worship with us for a while. Come and get involved; participate in some way in the life of the church. Then we can discuss the arrangements for baptism.”

“Don’t you think people can be good Christians without going to church?” Linda asked a bit defensively.

“That may be, but I don’t feel I’m in a position to make a judgment on that. What I do need is evidence, signs of faith that show me you will fulfill the baptismal vows you would take. At the baptism you will be asked to confess your faith in Jesus Christ as your Lord and Savior, live a life that is consistent with Christ’s teachings, teach Michael the Bible, and demonstrate to him the importance of the private and public worship of God. You’re making a commitment to raise Michael in such a way that someday he will make a decision for God and Christ, and thus confirm the baptismal vows you have taken.”

Linda held 6-month-old Michael in her arms. The baby looked so sweet and innocent. Why are you being so hard nosed about this? I asked myself. Linda is upset, and you’re looking like the bad guy. But another part of me said, Stick to your guns! You know what is right. Don’t give in.

“Pastor, it’s so hard for Jim and me to get going on Sunday mornings. He works late on Saturday nights, and it seems to take forever to get Michael fed and dressed.”

I wanted to shout at her, “Linda, it’s hard for everybody, but if it’s important to you, then you make the effort. We have many young families in our church that make great sacrifices to be in Sunday school and worship on a regular basis.” Coward that I am, I answered, “I know it is tough, but I really need you and Jim to show me that you are sincere about being Christians and that you will take your baptismal vows seriously.”

Linda looked as if she were going to cry. I asked if she would like a word of prayer before I left. She nodded. I prayed for Linda, Jim, and baby Michael, and asked God to bless their home and family. As I left the house, obviously Linda was not very happy with me. I felt lousy the rest of the day.

I didn’t hear anything more from Linda until a member of the congregation, Shirley Townsend, stopped by my office one day. “John, I need to talk to you about Linda. I was visiting with Mrs. Clark, and she told me you refused to baptize Linda’s baby. Is this true?”

My insecurity level rose. I began to explain to Shirley the need for Linda to demonstrate her Christian faith.

“But John, you won’t baptize that sweet, little baby? That’s cruel. Why not baptize Michael just to keep everyone happy? It might encourage Linda and Jim to someday join the church if you did them this favor.”

My stomach churned at Shirley’s suggestion that I was being cruel. I tried to explain. “As God’s people, we’re called to serve and follow Christ whatever the cost. If baptism is going to mean something, the parents have to teach their child about these responsibilities. Frankly, I have my doubts about Linda and Jim’s faith as Christians due to their lack of visible commitment. I don’t believe they’d fulfill their baptismal vows at this time. That means in baptizing Michael I would be performing a charade to please the parents.”

“John, you’re sounding so judgmental.”

I broke out in a sweat. I’m not supposed to sound like that, I thought. But I took a deep breath. “Shirley, sometimes we have to take a stand. It’s my responsibility to maintain the integrity of baptism. I need some evidence of faith from Jim and Linda to show me they are going to follow through on the promises they’d be making to God. If they refuse to demonstrate their commitment, then I can’t baptize Michael.”

“It really doesn’t matter,” Shirley sighed as she prepared to leave my office.

“What do you mean?”

“Linda knew you’d be stubborn about this, so she called Reverend Tupper, who came right over and baptized Michael. He was very cooperative. Good-by, John. I hope you realize how angry Linda and her family are at you. They’re a family that someday might have joined the church. Linda’s mother has been a good friend of mine for years, and I want you to know she doesn’t think very highly of you right now, either.”

I felt as if I’d been punched in the stomach.

Tightrope Walking

I don’t like being the bad guy. Saying no is hard for me. The pastoral role is supposed to be sensitive and loving. I also want people to like me.

But doing what the gospel requires is not always the same as doing what our congregations require. I don’t want my flock mad at me, but sometimes I have to take a stand. My integrity is on the line.

Not all my colleagues in ministry have to wrestle with requests to baptize infants, but every one I know struggles with similar situations. Pastors are forever walking a tightrope: We want to do what we believe is right; we also want to keep our congregations happy.

How do you deal with, for example, the young couple who want to be married in your church, but a Christian wedding is the last thing on their minds? You asked them in the premarital counseling, “Why do you desire a church wedding?”

“I have always wanted to be married in your sanctuary,” the bride answered, “because of the extra-long center aisle.” As far as they are concerned, you hire a caterer, rent a reception hall, and book a church. The preacher gets thrown in with the deal.

You tell them it looks as though a Christian wedding has little meaning to them and perhaps they ought to think about a civil ceremony. The bride cries, and later her father angrily comes to your office and tells you how unchristian you are acting. He points out what a poor example of a minister you are. (Why are these sorts always experts on pastoral roles?)

And I have a problem being asked to say the invocation at the county’s new sewage-disposal plant. “Lord, bless this refuse and all who work therein”? But my people tell me the exposure I am getting is good for the church.

I feel the conflict when asked to do the funeral for one of the town scoundrels. Should a Christian burial be performed for someone I am pretty sure wasn’t a Christian? What am I to do? I am always hearing people say to me, “Come on, John; be a good guy. What’s it going to hurt?”

What hurts is acting as if my principles as a minister of the gospel don’t matter. What hurts is when folks don’t understand that I am not saying no to be stubborn. I am saying no because what they want me to do is not right.

Taut-Line Strategies

When you’re up on a tightrope, you forget about graceful moves; you simply want to keep your balance. I’ve learned a few principles that have kept me a little more sure-footed.

Accept that conflict comes with ministry. If you are performing your ministry conscientiously, there will be conflict. Pastors are challenged daily to maintain their integrity while dealing with the demands of their congregations. Following the gospel may well please God, but making our people happy brings much more immediate rewards. Upsetting them, on the other hand, scares the daylights out of us.

In addition to the external conflict, there is plenty of internal conflict. I would like to think that what I do is for God and no one else. The reality is I am always conscious of the feelings and responses of my parish. Sometimes I am brave and faithful; other times I am not. Most of my parishioners are not even aware of the difficulty I go through in formulating responses.

But knowing that conflict is part of faithful ministry somehow helps me handle it better.

Pick your battles carefully. Some clergy seem to enjoy trouble. No issue is small; everything is a theological watershed. They are always involved in some sort of controversy. When you sit with them, sipping a cup of coffee, they describe their flocks as intransigent and selfish. They claim they cannot give in at the cost of losing their integrity, as if Christendom would collapse if the choir met on Tuesday instead of Thursday.

On the other side are clergy who are so afraid of provoking their congregations that they cave in to nearly every demand. But what kind of life is that? Sure we want our congregations to love us, but at what cost?

I’m working to find a middle ground. I’m willing to let my people win on the negotiable issues. As a pastor, I have only so much power through the prestige of the office. I don’t want to waste it fighting over the color of carpeting in the toddler room.

By doing this, when a major concern in the life of the church arises, I can hold my ground. The key is knowing when my integrity, not my pride, is being threatened.

Realize you will never please some people. Failing to do our job as ministers in order to keep a family happy is not worth it. Besides, we can never keep some people happy. They will just demand more if they know we’re willing to give in.

I still grind my teeth over a wedding situation a few years back. My parish had a rule that during the service no photographs were to be taken. The wedding ceremony is a holy time, and in worship the flashing of bulbs and moving of photographers is not only distracting but disrespectful. During premarital counseling sessions with the couple, I shared with them the no-pictures rule, and they said fine.

The day of the wedding rehearsal, I got a call from the mother of the bride. “John, what is this about no pictures during the ceremony?”

“That’s right, Helen.” I went on to explain the reasoning behind the rule. I silently prayed she would understand.

“I don’t understand. We want a picture of Grandma kissing Susan right after the giving of the bride. Grandma’s health is failing, and it’s important to the family that we get a picture.”

I told her they could pose the picture before or after the service, but during the service the church rules say no pictures.

That wasn’t good enough. She gave me a half-hour lecture on all her family had done for the church, Grandma’s personal health history, and how my predecessor gladly would have responded to their needs. I finally was able to say good-by and hang up the phone.

I moped around the house for the rest of the day. I said to my wife, “You know, it is such a little thing they’re asking for, and Grandma hasn’t looked very good in church the last few weeks.”

“John, Grandma is probably healthier than we are. It’s a good rule, and you need to stick to it. You’re just upset because you can’t stand to have someone mad at you.”

I fled from my wife’s wisdom. I dreaded going to the rehearsal that evening. At the rehearsal everyone was cordial but cool. The family waited until the end of the practice to gang up on me: “Have you reconsidered our request?” I told them I would think about it overnight.

Bright and early the phone rang. It was Helen. “Well, can Grandma have her picture taken?”

“Gosh, Helen, I still don’t feel right about it.” What I wanted to do was scream at the top of my lungs, “Get off my back! A rule is a rule, and you have to follow it just like anyone else.”

The rest of the morning I stewed about the whole thing. I went around slamming doors and saying to myself, It is such a little thing they are asking for.

Finally I gave in. As I dialed Helen’s number, I’m sure I subconsciously thought, Oh, good. Now Helen is going to like me again. When she answered the telephone I said, “Call me an old softy, but go ahead and have Grandma’s picture taken.”

Helen’s response was far from friendly. “Fine, John. I’ll see you at the wedding.”

I sat there stunned. What a mistake I’d made! Helen was still angry at me, and now I was angry at myself for selling out.

That incident taught me the difficult lesson that if you think an issue is important, stand your ground, because giving in won’t fully satisfy many people anyway.

Rely on institutional power and support. It is nice to have the backing of the bishop, presbytery, or district superintendent. Unfortunately, that kind of power is often too distant and out of sight. The best means of support is local power. The administrative board, parish council, or session is a force the congregation knows and understands.

In the situation with Linda and Jim, I went to my pastor-parish relations committee with my concerns over baptism. I talked about the meaning of baptism and the responsibilities involved. After my presentation, I asked for their comments and questions. The chairperson spoke up, “Pastor, I’m behind you all the way. If folks want to be baptized in our congregation, they need to show they mean it!” The rest of the committee agreed, and I didn’t feel quite so alone anymore. Until then I had felt like a western sheriff defending the town by himself.

Be honest. When I get caught in the middle of an issue, I think the best response is to be honest and let everyone know just where I stand. In one church personality conflict, I understood the issues on both sides. Each party had valid concerns. What troubled me was that I didn’t want them to think that when I talked to one group I was on its side and when I talked to the other group I was for it.

One evening I received an angry phone call from one of the people involved. I listened patiently and tried to present both sides of the issue.

Finally, in frustration, I told him, “I’m concerned about my integrity, because I’ve been in the middle on this. I don’t want anyone to think that when I talk to you I’m on your side, and when I talk to the others I’m for them. I understand both sides, and I am willing to be involved and help sort things out. But I don’t want anyone to think I’m playing both sides against the middle.”

From there my position in the controversy was understood, and we began to work toward settling the problem.

Find a person with whom you can talk through your feelings. When my integrity is threatened, I feel angry-angry if I give in when I know I shouldn’t, angry that I have to put up with this kind of nonsense, angry that in doing what I believe is right someone is mad at me, angry because I feel helpless and frustrated.

From there I get depressed. If I don’t watch myself, I become cynical and negative, and the rest of my ministry suffers. I need someone to talk to!

I can go to my wife, who is always there to help and support me. I can also speak formally or informally with a colleague or a group of colleagues. I let them support me, realizing that sooner or later it will be my turn to support them.

Pray. During such struggles it is easy to get sidetracked and think only of myself. Often I feel like an Old Testament prophet: I am trying to do what God wants and getting stones thrown at me for the effort. What is going on, God? So I take my fears, concerns, and anger to God in prayer. I try to let go of my anger. I pray for the strength to stand my ground and do what I feel is right.

During prayer I am reminded that I am a child of God who deserves respect and dignity, as anyone else does. My worth comes from God’s love and not from the approval of some irate parishioner.

An Anything-Goes Society

I’ll be honest: It’s hard for pastors to uphold standards in our anything-goes society. But maybe that’s partly what we get paid for. Taking the heat goes with the territory.

I still wrestle with my desire to be liked and at the same time to be faithful to what I believe God wants me to do. I feel the tension. Probably I always will. But I am gradually learning a key pastoral lesson: Having people like me is not nearly as important as having God like me.

John Wetherwax is pastor of Churchill Memorial United Methodist Church in Boston, New York.

- More from John R. Wetherwax

Pastors

SMALL-CHURCH RADIO MINISTRY

R. Michael Sanders

SMALL-CHURCH RADIO MINISTRY

People are getting laid off and moving out of the area. Why should we take what little resources we have and use them for a radio show? This wasn’t the end of a speech by a disgruntled board member, but rather my own misgivings as pastor even as I planned the very deed.

I had recently been appointed pastor of the Ashley-Gilead United Methodist Charge in rural southern Illinois. The Ashley church (average Sunday attendance of 56) had suffered, like the rest of Ashley, when first the railroad died, then the bus terminal closed, and finally the large candy factory left.

The Gilead church (average attendance 12) was afflicted with “Rural-Church Syndrome”: first the people moved from the country into town taking their membership with them. Then people, oh so slowly, began to move out to the church’s location again but left their membership in town.

Our finances were, and are, strained to the limit and often beyond. Why put our Sunday morning worship services on the local radio with all these factors working against the idea?

We did, anyway.

We were moved to take our message of God’s love outside our four walls. And frankly, I was also working to reestablish the self-respect of the two churches. I hoped such a program might help get them out of the “We don’t have a future; it’s all we can do to keep the doors open” doldrums.

It has worked much better than I had hoped.

Selecting a station

Some churches have only one station in their listening area, but we had a number to choose from I chose WMIX in Mt. Vernon, the secular station with the most powerful FM broadcast in our area. The FM signal is far superior to its fuzzy AM cousin, and a secular station offered a couple of advantages:

Most folks listening to Christian radio are already going to church or at least listening to a lot of sermons. I wanted an audience that hadn’t been as exposed to the gospel.

Most secular stations have more powerful signals than their Christian counterparts. The signal of WMIX carries through all of southern Illinois.

And in the past, I received the greatest response when my program aired on a secular station. Also, I had had a bad experience with a Christian station. The problem wasn’t the station’s management or policies but the preacher whose program aired directly before mine. He was boring. People began to switch off their radios while he was on the air, so my potential audience dwindled before I even had a chance! With the secular station, my program would more likely follow solid popular music.

I called the station manager at WMIX and was told, “All our time slots for religious purposes are filled.”

“What about the FM side of your station?” I pressed. “It’s only music in the morning.”

“We’re not interested in having religious programming there.”

I quoted statistics indicating the large number of listeners to religious programming but got nowhere.

I called other stations and got various answers, all of which meant “not interested” or “no time available right now; put your name on the list.” One station held a lottery: all the preachers interested put their name in the hopper and those drawn out received half an hour of air time for one month during that year. That was no way to build a ministry.

I put the project on hold for a few weeks and then contacted WMIX, my first choice, again. This time the response was different.

“We’ve decided to open a few slots on the FM side. Since you’ve already contacted us and been persistent, we’ll give you first choice.” I chose 7:30 A.M., a slot that would immediately follow popular music.

“Will you be trying to raise money on the air?” the person asked. (This conversation took place the week after the PTL scandal broke in the news.) Fortunately, I wasn’t.

The final question asked was whether I would be recording my services live or be needing studio time, which they would provide. This was an important question. Too many churches record on inferior equipment and make the station sound bad. (Though I chose to record our services live, after the station heard my first recording, they commented on how good the sound was and raised no more questions about sound quality.)

Choosing a format

I chose to have the program on Sunday morning. Yes, it’s traditional, but therein lies great strength. People are still conditioned to listen to sermons and sacred music on Sunday morning. Those who might turn away during the week still, amazingly, will listen to a preacher while they have their coffee and get ready for a day at the beach or a ball game. Perhaps this is a tribute to a church upbringing or a slightly guilty conscience, but for whatever reason, many people listen on Sunday.

In fact, I once experimented with nontraditional times for a Christian radio program-Tuesday and Thursday nights, drive time, and so on. I never was able to generate a loyal audience. A second reason for broadcasting Sunday morning is that the other portion of your audience, people who do attend church, often have their radios on while getting ready to go.

In an earlier radio venture, I tried a short program, 15 minutes. The program was less expensive than a half-hour slot, and writing scripts for that length was less difficult. People in radio now tell me what I learned the hard way: Half-hour programs build bigger audiences. The sign-on and sign-off times are easier to remember than for a 15-minute program, and if listeners tune in late, they don’t feel they’ve missed as much.

I also chose to stick with the standard sermon. Years earlier I tried interviewing people to add variety, but found it usually wasn’t effective, at least for a small church. There are all the problems of finding “experts” and conducting the interviews. In addition, listeners had all the interviews they wanted from syndicated Christian TV and radio programs. Local people wanted to know what our church had to say even more than they wanted to hear some expert.

At different times in the past I had used music in and around my sermon. This time I decided to forgo it. Recording the choir and soloist without the benefit of a studio is difficult, at best, to get right.

Buying the equipment

I needed to purchase a tape recorder and a lapel mike. I chose Radio Shack because there would be no problem with service: they have stores everywhere, and the company is going to be around for a while. As a pastor, I have seen too many committees find the lowest-priced item, only to find when it’s service time that the bargain shop has closed its doors.

The total cost was under $110 (prices are comparable for other brands). If you can afford to, it’s wise to spend more on the radio mike; many of the inexpensive ones pick up CB and other signals.

We already had an amplifier, as many churches do, but if one is needed, a satisfactory one can be picked up for about $100. So with an amplifier, total start-up costs would be just over $200.

I buy high-quality tapes (Maxell High-CrO2 metal) and use a new one each week. I consider it a small price to insure the right sound quality.

Raising the money

The program costs $60 per week. I chose the old and faithful method of raising pledges to pay for it. People still said, “We can’t afford it,” but since it didn’t come directly from the church treasury or their pocket, they didn’t complain as much. I kept two considerations in mind when I raised the pledges:

1. I put in a “sunset.” The pledges were for six months only, and at the end of that time, those who wished to pledge again could, while those who wished to stop had a graceful exit.

2. I raised pledges for more than the estimated cost. Past experience told me only about 80 percent of the pledges would come in (and that proved true again). Also, no matter how careful the plans, there will always be unexpected expenses.

Until this year, expenses have been covered solely by pledges outside the normal church budget. For 1988, however, the program has been written into the budget; it represents less than 4 percent of our annual expenses.

Getting feedback

I’ve found a good radio program is the best advertising a church can buy. It’s a nonthreatening way of stepping into people’s homes and saying, “Hi! Here’s what we’re about. Come and see us.”

I often make kind, personal references to members on the air. Recently a listener who is not a member of either church nor even a resident of the communities they are located in told a friend of mine, “I’d like to go to that church and meet the people.”

The attendance at little Gilead in the country went from 12 to 15 the Sunday after the show began and has since grown to almost 20. It’s hard to determine how much of the growth is connected to the program, but one new family specifically told me, “We heard you on the radio today.”

People who have not attended in years, for a variety of reasons, have started to tune in to their church. One member, who had not attended for 12 years, came to worship and commented on hearing the radio show. Another recently sent a donation for “our radio program.”

But the best result has been the new self-respect some of the members are experiencing. One lady told me, “People are talking about our church everywhere. They had never heard about our little church, and now they know where we are!”

R. Michael Sanders is pastor of the Ashley-Gilead United Methodist Charge in southern Illinois.

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More Ideas

Sex Education That Includes Parents

Like many Christian educators, the pastor, day school director, and teachers at Maranatha Baptist Church in Greenville, South Carolina, recognized that today’s children are being exposed to sexual information and activity at ever-earlier ages. They felt the need to teach their children a Christian perspective on the proper use of sexuality.

The question is, How? Many churches cover such material during a senior high retreat, but the information often comes too late, and parents, who should have the leading role as teachers, are usually excluded.

Yet Jean Peters, the church’s day school director, and Donna Carter, the Sunday school teacher for teenagers, also recognized that many parents might feel uncomfortable tackling sex education alone. The parents wanted to be part of the process but also wanted support and help.

So Maranatha Baptist sponsored a Saturday seminar, “Getting to Know You from A to Z,” for first-graders through adults. The day began at 10 A.M. with a potluck brunch. Teacher Donna Carter introduced the subject of sexuality, and then the entire group viewed a video that showed the beauty of a baby’s development in the womb. Said a second-grader, “I didn’t know God planned us so special.”

The group was then divided into age groups-primary, junior, and teen-with parents accompanying their children. Each group viewed the appropriate graded filmstrip from the Concordia Sex Education Series. Following the filmstrip, questions were invited; providing the answers were Pastor Jack Peters, a doctor (a former missionary and friend of the congregation), a nurse (a member), a teacher, and the parents as well. The event concluded at two o’clock.

Parents appreciated being included and knowing what their children were hearing. They also learned as they heard what kinds of questions the children were asking and how to respond. One mom said, “This was as much a learning day for us as it was for the children.”

Maranatha’s kids likewise enjoyed the day. They were quite open about asking questions, and one 12-year-old said afterward, “Thanks for showing that you love us.”

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Long-Distance Prayer Partners

Many church members agree they should pray more for missionaries, but often the reality lags behind the desire. The problem is usually that the mission work is out of sight and thus out of mind.

Cranleigh Baptist Church in Cranleigh, Surrey, in the United Kingdom, has found an effective way to motivate people to pray for the work of missionaries they support.

For many years the church has supported two members who were translating the Bible in the small town of Tataltepec, Mexico. As the two missionaries neared completion of their translation of the New Testament, they knew they would be moving on soon, but they didn’t want their home church to lose contact with the Tataltepec people.

So the missionaries took photos of the people in Tataltepec-some Christians, some not-who had helped with the translation. These photos were sent to the Cranleigh church and matched with members there: a photo of a single man in Tataltepec to a single man in the Cranleigh congregation, a photo of a Mexican church leader to one of the English church leaders, a photo of a family with teenagers to a family with teenagers, and so on.

People were encouraged to not only pray for their long-distance partners but to write them. Letters were sent to the missionaries, who translated them; the missionaries also translated return letters from the Tataltepec people. Periodically the Cranleigh people would meet together for supper, exchange news about their partners, and pray as a group for them. One evening the group rejoiced to hear that in answer to prayer, a member’s Tataltepec partner had become a Christian.

The ongoing prayer partnerships led to an increasing desire in the Cranleigh people to meet their partners in person. A number of people from the church traveled to Mexico when celebrations for the completed New Testament were held. On another trip, Pastor John Ross met with Tataltepec church leaders to discuss a pressing pastoral problem they faced. And one Cranleigh member who visited her Mexican prayer partner is now applying to become a Bible translator herself.

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Good-by Gifts

It’s painful when long-time members of a church have to move away to another city or state. First Baptist Church of Ewa Beach, Hawaii, has found a way to lessen the pain and to make such a leaving a meaningful occasion.

During the Sunday morning worship service, one member of the departing family is given the opportunity to say good-by to the congregation. “Both the family members and the congregation often cry a few tears,” says pastor Bill Godwin. Then each member of the family is given a lei, and the family also receives a plaque with either the Twenty-third Psalm or the Lord’s Prayer inscribed.

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What’s Worked for You?

Each account of a local church doing something in a fresh, effective way earns up to $35. Send your description of a helpful ministry, method, or approach to:

Ideas That Work

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- More from R. Michael Sanders

Pastors

STARING AT A JUDGMENT CALL

Rick McKinniss

You wish issues were clear-cut. But sometimes you’re torn between two druthers. Then what?

Should I take the wedding for the engaged couple on the fringe of the congregation? Baptize the infant of irregular attenders? Allow an exception to an established church policy?

LEADERSHIP readers tell us they struggle with requests like these. When is saying yes a show of compassion, and when is it more the weakening of pastor and church? Where do you draw the line?

This article and the one following form a pair, presenting two approaches to these knotty questions. In the first Rick McKinniss, a Baptist pastor, outlines how he determines whether to say yes or no. In the second, “Holding Your Ground,” Methodist minister John Wetherwax tells of his struggle to hold his ground when people want him to give in.

I hoped he would say yes. The young marrieds’ Sunday school class wanted someone to lead a unit of study on legal and financial issues for young families. Jim was expertly qualified, able to provide sound guidance from a Christian perspective.

I asked him if he would. A few days later, after he’d had a chance to think about it, we got together over coffee to discuss his answer.

“Thumbs up, Pastor,” Jim said. “I think I’d really enjoy teaching that unit. I’m glad you thought to ask me.” I was delighted. The material was sure to generate interest and excitement in the class and attract new people.

“I should probably mention,” he continued in a quieter voice, “Cathy and I have been having some trouble in our marriage. By the time I start teaching, I may have moved out of the house. Does this make any difference?”

We looked at each other.

I finally said, “Yes, it does,” and I tried to explain the reasons for my hesitation: The class was made up solely of young couples beginning their married lives, who viewed the teacher as not only a source of information but also a model; his proposed move would occur just as he was to start teaching; time was needed to sort and resolve the issues in his marriage. “Without judging you, Jim,” I said, “or prejudging the outcome of these marital problems or their long-range implications for you as a church leader and teacher, I think it’s best that you not take on this class right now.” I tried hard to communicate it as simply no to one quarter of teaching Sunday school.

Jim didn’t hear that. He felt rejected and condemned by a one-man accuser, judge, and jury. Our relationship never recovered despite many efforts on my part to support him during his separation and eventual reconciliation with his wife.

Saying Yes, Saying No

I felt right about my choice with Jim, even though things ended far from where I had hoped they would. But if there’s one thing I learned from the encounter, it’s that it’s not always easy to determine whether to say yes or no.

Not long ago I had a week that began with a funeral and ended with a wedding. In between there was a new mom to visit and her newborn to bless. In themselves, these events are not too unusual, but the burial had been for a suicide, the babe blessed was illegitimate, and the young newlyweds had become expectant parents a couple of months prior to becoming husband and wife.

Every pastor greets regularly the kinds of dilemmas I stared in the face that week: Do I say yes or no? Do I involve myself, and the church, and the Lord’s name, in potentially compromising situations for the sake of ministry? Or do I refrain from potential ministry opportunities for the sake of purity or integrity?

The choice is rarely clear-cut. There are reasons for and against, potential risks and gains, either in saying yes or in saying no. How do I decide what to do? Over the years I’ve found help in sorting these kinds of situations by asking myself four careful questions.

What Are the Benefits of “Yes”?

Sometimes I need to remind myself that few situations in our fallen world are ideal. To say yes only to ideal cases would severely limit my opportunities to minister in the name of Christ.

Further, a positive response to an initial opportunity may lead to further ministry. The fringe couple whom I decide to marry (not without some internal debate and hesitation) may return for specifically Christian counseling later in their marriage. The funeral for the stranger provides occasion to proclaim the unique hope and consolation of the gospel. These are, to my way of thinking, positive consequences of saying yes.

My experience with Jim taught me that when we say no, no matter how positive we are that it is the right choice, our motives can be misconstrued. We run the risk of turning off folks altogether-from the church and the Lord. Refusal to perform a pastoral service could become a major stumbling block for the one turned down. I’m mindful of conversations I’ve had with older folks, in and out of the church, who have turned minor offenses by clergy into major bones of contention.

Beyond these pragmatic reasons, the chief benefit of my saying yes is that it can be a witness to the mercy, grace, and compassion of Christ. Yes flows out of the activism of Jesus, who came “to seek and to save that which was lost.” Jesus often found himself in “compromising situations” because of his love for the people involved. The woman at the well, Zaccheus, and Matthew Levi come to mind; in each case a bit of a scandal was created. Still, Jesus was never ashamed that the radical grace and mercy of the gospel might scandalize those who failed to understand such things.

I saw the benefits of saying yes in a recent funeral for a suicide victim. As always, there is no preparation for that kind of news. An 83-year-old man decided that if he had to leave his apartment, he would prefer his next address to be his final resting place rather than a rest home. So one night after getting ready for bed, he quietly suffocated himself.

The next morning his son, who checked on his father on his way to work, found him. I received a phone call from the troubled son, a member of our church. His request was anxious, almost pleading-“Would you be willing to handle the funeral?”

I said yes. In my theological and ecclesiastic tradition, certainly suicide is not condoned, but it is not an automatic disqualification from grace, either. My main motivation in accepting this challenging request was the anguish I heard in Robert’s voice. He had been a member of the church for some time. His father, who also had professed faith in Christ, often came to church with him. My ministry would be primarily to Robert and to the other members of the family.

In my opening remarks at the service, I shared fond remembrances of the departed. The need to engage in that type of exercise is perhaps even greater in such a dark situation. My primary goal, however, was to rehearse the comfort and the challenge of the gospel for the living. Yet it seemed that in order to adequately accomplish that goal, the special nature of the death needed to be addressed. I was able to state with confidence my conviction that our brother’s salvation did not depend upon the manner of his death any more than it depended upon the merits of his life. Salvation, rather, depends upon Jesus’ life and death on our behalf, and upon the sinner’s trust in that action. It was not my intent for these words to offer empty assurance or false hopes, nor to assuage any guilt feelings I was experiencing (that perhaps the church and I had failed him in his lonely days). As I commended Arnold to the grace of God, I directed the mourners’ attention there as well.

After the service, one of the family members came up and said, “I wondered how you would handle this. You helped me see things from a different perspective. I was locked into the details of his death, but you helped me see the bigger picture.”

I was glad the church had remained open to minister its unique word of hope, even in a situation where a believer’s hope had momentarily surrendered to despair.

What’s the Potential Harm of “Yes”?

Not every yes turns out quite so positive. Sometimes a no is most appropriate. The church must witness not only to the love and mercy of her Lord but also to his holiness. Saying no to some situations avoids the compromise of biblical standards.

There are many times when the people of God must simply draw the line. The law of Israel forbade graven images of God; Jesus said no to the practice of money changing in the temple; Paul prohibited lawsuits among believers and “unequal yoking” with those outside the faith. When the precedent of the Word is clear, so too are the choices ministers of the Word must make. A clear no gives a positive witness to the holiness and righteousness of the Lord.

I find I need to be doubly careful to consider the harm in saying yes, because saying yes is my natural tendency. I like to be agreeable. Like all pastors, I love to help, to get involved. And in a vocation that depends upon others’ good will, I want to be liked. So before I say yes, I think about how I will feel before the mirror or before the Lord. A yes may make me feel like a nice guy now, but will I feel as gratified later?

I learned this lesson, painfully, when I was asked to marry one young couple who were already expecting their first child. I saw the pain and desperation in the bride’s father. I remembered when a cousin of mine wandered from the church after a pastor refused to marry her (because her fianc was Catholic). I hoped my involvement might lead to further ministry. And I knew they would marry anyway, and soon. Perhaps I could be a witness in this turbulent situation. So I agreed to perform the wedding.

Even during the ceremony itself, I wished I hadn’t. As I looked at them, I knew they were too young, too immature, too poorly prepared to build a healthy marriage. The incongruity between the Christian ideals expressed in the service and their lack of commitment stung. With all my heart I wished I had said no. As I prayed God’s blessing upon them, I silently asked that my fears for them would not be realized.

They were. The marriage was stormy and brief.

I have learned that when we say no, sometimes the outcome can be quite positive: it can call folks up short, give them pause, move them to repentance.

Recently I talked with a young divorced woman new to our community and our church. She told me how, as a new believer, she had married a non-Christian. Her former pastor advised against it and refused to officiate at the wedding. “I ignored his warnings,” she said, “and got someone else to marry us. Now I wish I hadn’t.” Their marriage fell apart after six months. She had nowhere to turn but to the church she had spurned. “I went back to the pastor and told him what had happened. I apologized for ignoring his advice and sought God’s forgiveness for straying from his church and his will.”

A no, as hard as it is to say, can be strongly redemptive.

What Is My Goal?

The problem in so many cases is that benefits and dangers are both present. There’s a strong argument to be made for both yes and no. That’s why I’ve learned to ask myself another question: What is my goal in this particular situation? What do I want to accomplish here?

My overall goal as a pastor is to behave in such a manner as to advance Christ’s ministry. But what will advance it most in this setting?

One of the things I consider in answering this question is the attitude of the church. For example, I’ve served at least one church that, I thought, had too few boundaries. As a whole, the congregation tended to be overly tolerant, both intellectually and morally. In that context, my inclination was toward a firmer approach that modeled the conviction of Christ. As judgment calls arose, part of my goal was to help provide a balance to the accepted (and somewhat loose) approach.

Other churches tend toward the opposite extreme: rigidity. In one, an elder and his wife, a deacon, had a 19-year-old daughter who had been living on her own for a year. During that time she became pregnant out of wedlock. When the couple learned about the situation, they came to the pastor fearful they would have to resign their positions of leadership.

In that case, the pastor encouraged them to stay on. With firm tact, he wanted to balance the Pharisaism of the congregation’s history.

A second thing I am sensitive to is the attitude of the people requesting my assistance. Are they seeking to use me and the church, or are they open to positive interaction? I look not so much at where they are as to where they are headed. If they are becoming increasingly open to Christ, and this request is part of that change, then I’m more inclined to say yes.

Brian and Mary asked me to marry them. Brian was a nominal Baptist; he was divorced and the father of one child. Mary was Roman Catholic. They had originally sought an annulment of Brian’s marriage so they could be married in the Catholic church, but the process became too long and expensive. Neither, by their own admission, claimed to be an active believer. Almost in passing, they mentioned they had been living together for several months.

I decided to be forthright with them. I told them their live-in relationship was not right in God’s eyes. I told them the Lord was not particularly fond of divorce, and that if I did agree to perform this wedding, his divorce would be one of the issues we would have to talk through.

“Thanks for being honest with us,” they said, a little surprised I had been so straightforward about their situation. “We’re willing to talk about where we are.”

I sensed in their response an openness. In the midst of this convoluted situation that offered few, if any, reasons to say yes, I felt there was an opportunity for ministry. I finally agreed to perform the wedding.

As one part of the premarital counseling process, I gave them reading materials about the Christian faith and the need for the Lord in their lives and marriage. But as I drove to the final session, reserved for in-depth discussion of spiritual matters, I wasn’t optimistic. I had had a miserable day, I was exhausted, and I didn’t want to spend an hour comparing Catholic doctrine and Baptist beliefs.

But Brian opened up as he never had before. “I work with a ‘real Christian,’ ” he said, “and I’ve come to respect him. I wonder what the difference is between his faith and mine.”

I invited him to answer his own question. After a long pause, he said, “I would probably have to say commitment.”

“I would agree with your observation,” I said. Then I turned to Mary. “How about you?” I asked. “How would you respond to the things Brian has been saying?”

“I’d have to say I’m in about the same place Brian is,” she said. “I believe in God and Jesus and all, but I’ve never committed myself to follow the Lord.”

That night, Brian and Mary were not yet ready to commit their lives to the Lord, but they were closer than ever before. They knew, perhaps for the first time in their lives, where they stood with the Lord. I felt some difficult ground had been gained for the kingdom. Because they were moving toward God and not away from him, I felt my involvement was the right decision.

Can Others Help?

My final question recognizes that I am susceptible to doing what is easiest rather than best. When a request is particularly thorny, I don’t hesitate to postpone it to ask advice from people I respect.

I have a standard policy, for example, that I never agree to marry a couple until I’ve visited with them.

That way, if the proposed union is going to have an impact on the congregation (e.g., the bride is the daughter of a deacon), I have time to think it through and talk it over with others. And if, after meeting with a couple, I’m still unsure how to respond, I will sometimes say, “I’d like to have a little more time to think through your request. Can I give you an answer in the next day or so?” I’ve never found a couple upset by this.

The people I talk with help me do two things.

Sort the situation. My main mentor is a seminary professor named Jim. I phone him, lay out the situation, and then tell him what I plan to do. “What do you think?” I ask. “Are there any blind spots in my thinking? If I head this way, how should I express my feelings to the people involved?”

As Jim helps me sort the situation, he helps me blend idealism and realism. When I need it, Jim keeps before me a vision of the ideal-the pure, unstained bride of Christ. At other times he reminds me of the real-the weak, bedraggled group of sinners, seekers, and sundry nonsaints that is every congregation. My goal-and Jim helps me reach it-is to be neither too pragmatic nor too idealistic.

For Jim to be of most help, I’ve discovered, I need to call him every week or so simply to talk about our lives and respective ministries. Then, when a judgment call comes up, he knows both the congregation and me well enough to offer helpful advice. And I’m close enough to him to welcome it. Yes, that means a weekly long-distance phone call, but I’ve long since determined that it’s a great investment for my congregation.

Sort my feelings. The person asking me to say yes is not the only person involved; I am, too. Sometimes I’ll call a counselor (a member of a former church) simply to process my involvement in the situation. Before I take action I want to be aware of any personal fears or needs that might cause an unhelpful response. She helps me sort my underlying motivations.

I should say, however, that I’m a firm believer in mixed motives. After being in the ministry for a while, I’ve given up on requiring motives that are 100 percent pure. While evaluating my motives is important, knowing they’ll be somewhat mixed helps me avoid the trap of overevaluation. In many cases, the right deed is vindication in itself.

Living Life Forward

Soren Kierkegaard once said, “We understand life backward but are called to live it forward.” While hindsight grows sharper as we get older, I still must face each unusual and difficult situation afresh. I have to live life forward and say either yes or no. I am never able to read completely the outcome of my actions, and thus, I must trust them to the Lord.

Marcie, a timid high school senior, called to ask if I could fill out the “Pastor’s Recommendation Form” to complete her application to a church-sponsored college in our community. I could barely put a face with the voice speaking to me over the phone. Her mother was still a member of our church, though the family had moved recently to another town some thirty miles away. Marcie had attended church irregularly even before the move, but I was the closest thing to a pastor she had. I told her I would need to speak with her before I could give even a limited recommendation.

I suppose every pastor has mixed emotions about such requests, be it an application for college or a camp counselor position or employment. When I know the person and can wholeheartedly write a positive recommendation, it is a celebration. But when I hardly know the one I’m supposed to be recommending, the whole idea grates a bit on my integrity. I try to be honest, yet writing “no opportunity to observe” in nearly every blank hardly seems like a recommendation. But hoping to open the door to further ministry, I gave a qualified yes to Marcie.

When Marcie came to my office the next day, we chatted about a lot of different things-home, school, future plans. There was occasion to touch upon where things stood between Marcie and the Lord. As I shared about God’s Good News, she listened, seemed moderately interested, and then politely thanked me for my time. I completed her recommendation as best I could and sent it off, wondering all the while what, if anything, might come out of such a brief visit. I still felt a bit foolish as I filled out her recommendation and left half of it blank. At any rate, she was accepted into the freshman class.

In the following years I ran into Marcie a few times around town and on campus, and once even in church. Then I got the news that she had begun her junior year carrying an extra load: she was pregnant. The next time I saw her again was in church. She slipped out quietly before I had a chance to greet her, but she had checked on our friendship pad that she would like a visit from the pastor.

We met at the campus coffee shop. After we exchanged greetings, she nervously launched into deeper water. “I guess you know I’m pregnant.”

I nodded. She told me the father had cut out when faced with the news that she was expecting. The pregnancy had caused her to rethink some basic assumptions about her life.

“I’ve been kind of drifting,” she admitted, “but now I have more to live for than just good times. I want to keep the baby and raise it. And I want to finish school.”

Then came the bolt: Marcie wanted to give her life to Christ. She had remembered our earlier conversation in my office. Later, interacting with Christian friends and observing her mother’s faith had made her realize she had been living outside of God’s plan. “I need his forgiveness and direction,” she said. “I know I’m going to need a lot of help with all this, but I’m ready to follow Jesus as best I know how.”

We walked to my car for greater privacy, and there I led her through a prayer in which Marcie claimed God’s forgiveness and asked Jesus to take over the reins of her life.

That prayer took. As the baby grew within her, Marcie grew in her faith. It was with wonder that I went to visit her and the babe in the hospital. Partly it was a realistic wondering how this mom and baby were going to overcome the major obstacles ahead of them. Marcie had to make it through her last year of college; the baby had to make it through his first year of life.

But my deeper wonder was this: While carrying this so-called illegitimate life, Marcie had been born anew unto life eternal. Under such circumstances, it was not hard to bless what God had been doing in Marcie to redeem her life from her previous aimlessness and sin. Nor was it hard to bless her newborn son, since he had been the occasion for his mom’s new birth. I was glad to open wide the church door for those two.

Rick McKinniss is pastor of Kensington Baptist Church in Kensington, Connecticut.

- More from Rick McKinniss

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The time problem

The big three

Money

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Fourth priority

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How Much Is Too Much?

Show Ourselves Worthy

Respect Ourselves

Respect Our People

Confront Disrespectful Actions

Questions before Confronting

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Why Bother with a Code?

Beliefs: Candor vs. Assurance

Service: Altruism vs. Realism

Morality: Boldness vs. Prudence

Competence: Drive vs. Contentment

Compensation: Satisfaction vs. Assertiveness

Colleagues: Competition vs. Conspiracy

Confidentiality: Disclosure vs. Secrecy

Friendships: Special vs. Equal

General Principles

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Tightrope Walking

Taut-Line Strategies

An Anything-Goes Society

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SMALL-CHURCH RADIO MINISTRY

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Choosing a format

Buying the equipment

Raising the money

Getting feedback

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Sex Education That Includes Parents

Long-Distance Prayer Partners

Good-by Gifts

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Saying Yes, Saying No

What Are the Benefits of “Yes”?

What’s the Potential Harm of “Yes”?

What Is My Goal?

Can Others Help?

Living Life Forward

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