While researching a subject on-line the other day, I found myself reading some preachery attacks on other ministers. These men of God, assuming that’s what they are and I’m not saying they’re not, were taking no prisoners.
“That pastor is a liar!” “Preachers lie to you when they say….” “Ten lies preachers tell you.” “That preacher is an agent of hell!”
That sort of thing.
When those sent by the Father to be shepherds of His sheep use such blistering rhetoric, we fail our assignments in many ways: we dishonor the Lord, we shame the church, we needlessly slander our brethren, we set poor examples for the people in the pew, and we hold the gospel up to ridicule by the world.
How about a little sweetening, I wonder. And then I remembered something.
“Why not rather be wronged?” (I Corinthians 6:7)
Ask any pastor.
We hear it all the time. Variations on this theme are endless…
–“All these years we have belonged to this church and given our money to support these preachers, and now when we need him, he’s in Israel on a holy land tour!”
–“I went by the church. I needed to see the preacher then, not the next day. And you’re not going to believe this, but he was on his way out the door, headed to his son’s little league game! And me a member of his flock. What kind of preachers are we getting these days?”
–“The preacher needs to apologize to me for what he implied in that sermon on Sunday. I know he was talking about me, even though he used someone else’s name.”
And one that happened in my last pastorate…
“In the world you will have tribulation, but take courage; I have overcome the world” (John 16:33).
We were expecting hostility from the world. But certainly not from the Lord’s people.
Church is where we get blindsided.
The Lord wanted His people to know what to expect. The road ahead would be rough. They should prepare for turbulence.
The Lord would not be bringing His children around the storms but through them. We will not miss out on the tempest, but will ride it out with Jesus in our boat, sometimes standing at the helm and at other times, seemingly asleep and unconcerned.
The lengthy passage of Matthew 10:16-42 is the holy grail on this subject, as the Lord instructs His children on what lies ahead and what to expect. His disciples should expect to encounter opposition, persecution, slander, defamation, and for some, even death. So, when it comes–as it does daily to millions of His children throughout the world–no one can say they weren’t warned.
But what about the church? Should we expect opposition and persecution there also?
“(I ask) that they may all be one….that the world may believe that Thou didst send me” (John 17:21,23).
No one wants your church to be unified more than the Lord.
According to Scripture, almost everything depends on unity.
A few years ago, my friend Charles stood before his congregation, ready to lead his first monthly business session.
Before they got underway with reports and motions and votes, however, Charles had something to say which they needed to hear. His little speech would affect the course of that church for years to come.
The new pastor wanted them to know how their business meetings were going to be conducted.
It is good for a man to bear the yoke in his youth. (Lamentations 3:27).
Dear Young Pastor:
I hear you’re having a tough time of it.
Good. Glad to hear it.
As I got it, a group in the church doesn’t care for your leadership. They find fault with your sermons. They probably don’t like the color of your tie (or worse, the fact that you don’t wear one).
What makes their opposition dire is that they are the leaders of the church. Not a good thing.
Unity is always better than division.
You came close to resigning, I’m told. You probably felt, “If I don’t have the support of these elected leaders of the church, then I’ll not be able to do anything here.”
You actually wrote out a resignation, perhaps to see what it would feel like.
It felt wrong. You knew you were displeasing the One who sent you there in the first place.
So, you chose to hang in there and try to give leadership to a church that is not sure it wants any.
Welcome to the ministry.
“Do not judge, lest you be judged…. Why do you look at the speck that is in your brother’s eye, but do not notice the log in your own eye?” (Matthew 7:1ff.)
If you are prone to criticism and judging others, chances are you will be the last to know it.
It’s that kind of sin. I see it in you; when I do it, well, it’s just part of who I am.
I find it fascinating that after issuing the warning about not judging others, our Lord followed with the caution about specks and logs in people’s eyes.
This is precisely how it works.
My judgmentalism of you appears so normal and natural that it never occurs to me that I am actually condemning you. So, while your rush to judgment is a log in your eye–one you really should do something about!–my human tendency to speak out on (ahem) convictions is merely a speck in mine and nothing to be concerned about.
Ain’t that the way?
Consider this actual conversation….
How many churches have stopped growing in this country, in your denomination, of your church-type, in your county or parish or town?
Depends on who you ask.
Go on line and you’ll soon have statistics coming out your ears on this subject.
In our denomination–the Southern Baptist Convention–the most significant number, one that seems to have held steady for over three decades, is that some 70 percent of our churches are either in decline or have plateaued.
Plateau. Funny word to use for a church. One wonders how that came to be. Why didn’t they say “mesa,” “plain,” “delta” (ask anyone who lives in the Mississippi Delta–flat, flat, flat!), or even “flatline.”
In the emergency room, of course, to “flatline” is to be dead. No one, to my knowledge, is saying a non-growing church is dead, only that some things are not right.
Healthy churches grow. Non-growing churches are not healthy, at least in some significant ways.
If it’s true that 7 out of 10 pastors in our family of churches serve congregations that are either in decline or in stagnation, this is a situation that ought to be addressed.
Everyone is addressing it. Everyone has an opinion.
“Somebody ought to do something!”
I was second in line at the traffic light. My lane and the one to my right were all turning left onto Dauphin Street in Mobile. The third lane was turning right.
Nobody was moving.
We sat through three sequences of lights. Meanwhile, the line of cars behind us grew longer and longer.
Clearly, the light was malfunctioning, but only on our side. Traffic from the other directions was receiving the correct sequence of lights. Our light stayed red.
I was traveling back to New Orleans from a revival in Selma, Alabama, and had stopped for a late-morning breakfast at a restaurant in Mobile. After a fairly demanding week with 1500 miles of driving, I was actually relaxed and willing to sit there in the traffic without getting impatient.
But not all day.
Finally, I had had enough. The light was not working and the cars in front of me were showing no inclination to move.
So, I got out of my car.