I agree with Thomas Campbell, who wrote, “Better to be courted and jilted, than never to be courted at all.”
But courtship is not easy-especially for pulpit committees and candidates. I have compiled seven types of pulpit committee “dates” I’ve been on.
1.The Blind Date.
I had never been on a blind date—until I went into the ministry. The scenario begins with a phone call or letter from some unknown church asking for my resume. Usually I am willing to risk the postage, though the church could just as well be a militia group as an assembly of believers.
Then the church sends me a detailed questionnaire. What is not included, however, is a single scrap of information about the church. I wonder, Is filling out this form a waste of time? I know only the name and address of the church. It’s as if the church is saying, “We want to find out everything about you, without telling you anything about us.”
One such church had my resume, philosophy of ministry, summary of ministry experiences, and a five-page questionnaire that detailed everything from my favorite doctrines to my favorite sports. I received only three cheery letters from the church secretary. She seemed quite nice, but for all I know, the church was a front for a waste-management plant. The fourth cheery letter told me I was no longer on the list.
Last summer I received a letter, a variation of the blind date: “Dear Reverend, On behalf of the Pulpit Search Committee and the Elder Board, I would like to thank you for your interest in the position of Pastor of _______.”
I had never heard of the church, yet I was in the running.
I read on: “A call for the position has been made and accepted, so no further consideration will be given at this time.” Well, I thought, that was short-lived. The last clause finished with a flourish: “I hope the Lord provides useful service for you in the near future.”
2.The Cheap Date.
Only once can I remember not paying for a date (even though I was dating during the height of the women’s liberation movement). I didn’t know how it felt to be on the receiving end of a cheap date—until recently.
While candidating, I once transported two search committee members in my car. The parking lot attendant held out his hand for payment. As I slowly and deliberately fumbled for my wallet, no one moved or spoke.
Are they going to let me pay for this? I thought.
The attendant impatiently gestured for me to hurry, and since I was the only one who reached for leather, I extracted a bill from my wallet. I was glad the delegation hadn’t scheduled a dinner with me.
Another time a church I had no prior connection with asked for my resume. A few weeks later, several on the pulpit committee showed up in church unannounced. Later that week, they called and asked if I would come for an interview.
I mentioned I wanted to know more about the church first. The chairman assured me my questions would be answered in the interview.
Since the church was only an hour drive away, I went on the evening of my day off. I mostly enjoyed the three-hour interview. They picked my brain about what God had done in our ministry. They tantalized me by holding up a copy of their five-year plan but wouldn’t let me touch the document.
Then one committee member asked, “John, tell us why you want to be our senior pastor.”
I grinned, replying, “But I don’t want to be your pastor.”
They were visibly startled. I pointed out that while I might become interested, I didn’t know enough about the church or city to make that decision. “Remember,” I said, “you contacted me; I didn’t contact you. In fact, after our brief discussion tonight, I wonder if my gifts and vision match your need.”
The evening ended soon after that, and I never heard from them again. No phone call of thanks for making the trip, no note, no nothing.
3.The Silent Date.
Single women often complain about the guy who has shown a modicum of interest but never calls. Search committees tend to be equally uncommunicative.
The rules of dating the silent type include never letting the candidate know you have received any of his or her submissions. Never send a thank-you for anything. Never let the candidate know he or she is still a candidate. Never reassure the candidate that it will take excessive amounts of time for the committee to run its battery of tests (e.g., DNA analysis) on all submissions.
One committee got upset with me when they discovered I was candidating at another church. They had minutely examined sermon tapes and interviewed my grade school teachers, squandering months of time—all without telling me I was still on their list. In the intervening months, they had become secret admirers and felt as if I were cheating on them.
4.The Manipulative Date.
“If you break up with me, I’ll die.” Okay, no one actually said that to me, but I’ve had churches try similar tactics.
After candidating in one church, my wife and I knew it was not God’s place for us. We refused a couple of invitations to return for another weekend. Then the search-committee chairman called.
“John, we realize that you and Amy have said no,” he said. “But you need to know there are a significant number of people at the church who are praying for God to change your mind, and they are fasting until you return.”
How could we refuse?
We drove up for another weekend, during which the Lord clearly confirmed our prior decision: “Didn’t I already tell you this wasn’t the place?” Under pressure, we gave up a week of vacation and vast amounts of emotional energy.
5.The Clumsy Date.
I was amazed when a church that had expressed great interest in me called to ask if I would send another copy of my resume. They had lost the first one.
From another church, I received a letter requesting more information. The letter had been typed with a typewriter that needed a new ribbon and made all the capitals a half line higher than lowercase letters. The blotchy, erratic document also had an address label pasted crookedly at the bottom. It looked like a ransom note.
Once, after filling the pulpit for a church hunting for a senior pastor, I received a handwritten letter from the chairman of the pulpit committee. I believe he was asking me to consider becoming a candidate, but I’m not sure, for he was a doctor and wrote the note himself; it wasn’t legible.
6.The Impetuous Date.
To show up early for a date would communicate two things: either I was overeager or inconsiderate. Even more unthinkable would be to arrive impromptu and uninvited. Yet three churches began the candidating process with me by having committees show up unannounced.
One church sent their pulpit committee for a surprise Sunday morning visit before mentioning their interest in me. That Sunday my predecessor was preaching. I didn’t know they had been there until their second visit, when again I wasn’t preaching.
It puzzles me why some pulpit committees lead with their chin, but I must admit it does cause me to be disgustingly friendly to visitors.
7.The Inquisition Date.
In Bible school, I once spent an evening with a young woman who asked me rather pointed questions: “Has either of your parents or any immediate family ever been institutionalized?” I thought this rather forward for our first date; she’d never met my family. Her next inquiry was how many children I wanted. “I think big families are neat,” she said.
I can usually tell the scars of a church by the questions they ask. Certain doctrines are explored in depth, while foundational truths are left untouched. I’ve been asked “Which of Calvin’s five points do you agree with?” which caused me to wonder how many bloody battles they have had and over which point. I’ve heard the sloppily worded, “What is your view of women in your ministry?” And the painfully slanted, “Will your wife work outside the home, or will she be involved in the ministry?”
On one occasion, I was asked to answer on paper, “Would you ever let your children come and play in the office while you are working?” There was no good way to answer that question; I had never thought of inviting my children over to play while trying to work. Yet I wouldn’t say I never would . . .
However perturbed I become with search committees, I continue to offer myself for victimization. Just last month a church called, asking for a classic blind date. I volunteered to pick up the committee at the airport—and right away they let me pay for parking.
John Beukema is pastor of The Village Church in Western Springs, Illinois.
1996 by Christianity Today/LEADERSHIP journal
Last Updated: September 18, 1996
