\nThe intercom buzzer in my office sounded. “Pastor Bob Blake on line 2.”<\/p>\n\n
\nBlake served the church I’d left a year and a half earlier. I had never talked\nwith or met him. I pressed the blinking line.<\/p>\n\n
\n“Hello, Bob. How’s it going?”<\/p>\n
\n“Great!” he said. “I’m glad to talk to you. I hope we will get to meet soon.”<\/p>\n\n
\n“I have been hearing good reports,” I said. “I’m glad you called.”<\/p>\n\n
\n“The Lord is doing some awesome things here,” he said. “I don’t want to take\nmuch of your time, but last Sunday, just about everyone came forward at the\nend of the service to confess wrongdoing and to seek forgiveness from one\nanother. A number of people confessed that they were wrong in the way they\ntreated you and your wife before you left.<\/p>\n\n
\n“The church would like to fly you folks back here so they can personally\nand publicly ask your forgiveness.”<\/p>\n\n
\nI gulped. Old feelings of hurt and anger bubbled to the surface. Never had\nI heard of a church inviting a former pastor back for such a purpose.<\/p>\n\n
\nThe day before Blake’s call, I had read the article “Forced Out” in\nLeadership <\/em>(winter 1996). The article analyzed the results of a survey\nof pastors who had been forced to leave their churches. From my experience\nat the church Blake now served, I resonated with the scenarios presented.\nI took some comfort that I was not the only one to have been forced to resign.<\/p>\n\n \nThe survey pointed out that 43 percent of pastors who had been forced out\nsaid a small faction forced them out. That happened to me: a small, power-hungry\ngroup made it impossible for me to lead effectively. Most of the congregation\nknew nothing of the tension until right before I resigned.<\/p>\n\n \nAnd, as many pastors indicated in the survey, the church I served had done\nit before. In fact, I had been the third pastor in a row either to be asked\nto leave or pressured out. In its 44-year history, the church had had fifteen\npastors. My tenure of nine years was the longest, but I, too, finally fell\nvictim.<\/p>\n\n \nBlake’s invitation to return evoked feelings of dread. Would it open old\nwounds? Yet the invitation tugged at my heart. I wanted to see the folks\nwe had loved and served for nine years.<\/p>\n\n \nI believed I had already forgiven those who had opposed my leadership. My\nnew call was both gratifying and therapeutic. Was there any purpose in going\nback? What would be expected of me? Would there be an emotional display that\nwould camouflage lingering animosity?<\/p>\n\n \nRepentance fruit<\/strong><\/em>\nAfter talking with my wife, consulting with the senior pastor at the church\nI currently serve, and conversing with Pastor Blake, I agreed. The arrangements\nwere made to return for a weekend. The plan was that during the Sunday morning\nworship service, the chairman of the deacons would speak on behalf of the\ncongregation. Then I would be given an opportunity to respond. The service\nwould conclude with a celebration of the Lord’s Supper over which Pastor\nBlake and I would preside.<\/p>\n\n \nThe weekend arrangements for my wife and me gave evidence of liberality of\nspirit. The congregation of around one hundred people spent several hundred\ndollars in airfares and also provided a rental car. We ate our meals in homes.\nA Saturday night gathering at the church allowed us to talk with most of\nthe congregation.<\/p>\n\n \nThe reunion was joyful and spontaneous-not just between my wife and me and\nthe congregation but between member and member. The events that led to my\nresignation had driven a wedge into the congregation. But our return-our\nphysical presence-seemed to ease forgiveness and reunion.<\/p>\n\n \nSunday’s worship service went smoothly. The days preceding the service, the\nchurch and my wife and I had been celebrating the fact of forgiveness, but\nthen came the time in the service to announce formally the eradication of\nguilt.<\/p>\n\n \nPastor Blake spoke of Jesus’ words of forgiveness uttered from the cross:\n“Father, forgive them for they know not what they do.” He pointed out that\nthe only person to accept that forgiveness was the man hanging next to him.\nHe then explained for the sake of visitors why I had been invited back.<\/p>\n\n \nThen the chairman of the deacons and I were called to the platform. As we\nfaced each other, I heard the words I never expected to hear.<\/p>\n\n \n“Pastor Ben,” the chairman began, “on behalf of the entire congregation,\nI confess to you that we did not support you in your ministry as our pastor.”\nThe words did not come easily. “We recognize,” he continued, “that our actions\nwere wrong, and we ask you to forgive us.”<\/p>\n\n \nI opened my arms, and we embraced.<\/p>\n\n \nLater I was told by a friend, as he gestured with thumb and index finger\nalmost touching, “I came this close to starting a standing ovation.” The\nburden was lifted.<\/p>\n\n \nI picked up where Pastor Blake left off in the story of Jesus’ crucifixion\nand resurrection. I read the words of Jesus to his disciples in the Upper\nRoom: “If you forgive anyone his sins, they are forgiven; if you do not forgive\nthem, they are not forgiven.”<\/p>\n\n \n“A wonder of God’s grace,” I said, “is that it allows us to cut each other\noff from it by refusing to forgive those who sin against us.”<\/p>\n\n \nI assured the congregation that I would not do that. “The debts of the past\nare canceled.”<\/p>\n\n \nThe service concluded with the celebration of the Lord’s Supper.<\/p>\n\n \nAs my wife and I said good-bye again after the service, this time we felt\na sense of closure.<\/p>\n\n 1996 by Christianity Today\/LEADERSHIP journal<\/p>\nClosed accounts<\/h2>