No one wants to hear you gripe about how unfairly the church members are treating you. You’re the pastor, the leader, the one out front. Take the heat. Be a man.
The morning paper tells how the basketball coach at our largest state university is receiving jeers from the fans. His team has just lost its seventh consecutive game in the young season and they’ve been blown out in contests against weak opponents. The fact that he has taken his teams to the NCAA Final Four in previous years looks good in the history books, but does nothing–nil, nada–to placate the fans. They want a winner now.
That’s how fans are. Ask any coach on the planet.
Is it unfair? Sure. Are they being unreasonable? Absolutely. Does that protect the coach’s job? Not in the least.
The coach knew it would be like this when he signed on. When his teams were doing well, he was a hero and could do no wrong. Fans held up signs suggesting he run for governor. The trustees voted him a contract extension with a sizeable raise. Season-ticket holders called in to talk shows praising his decisions.
These days, that coach is experiencing the dark side of his profession: the fans can turn on you in a heartbeat.
At a community prayer breakfast, I spotted the head coach (at the time) of the New Orleans Saints, Jim Mora. I hastily sketched out a cartoon for him, I forget what it was, and presented it to him. While he was chuckling at it, I said, “Pastors understand what coaches go through. You give your all on Sunday and some people pick it apart during the week.”
Mora said, “Yeah, but do they call in to the radio shows and criticize your sermons in the newspaper?” I had to admit they didn’t.
Later I thought of an answer: “This is why they pay you the big bucks, coach.”
Lately, I’ve been reading through Exodus and seeing again the trials of Moses as he tried to lead a vast multitude of impatient, unspiritual people from Egypt’s slavery into Canaan’s glories. Like the chorus of a bad tune, we keep finding this refrain: “And the congregation of Israel murmured against Moses in the wilderness.”
Now, the first time that happened–that would be Exodus 14:10-12–Moses responded well. “Don’t be afraid. Stand here and you will see the salvation of the Lord.”
A few days later, the murmurs rose from the crowd again. “Oh, what’s going to happen to us? It would have been better to have died in Egypt where at least we had food to eat! You’ve brought us out here to perish of starvation!” (Exodus 16:3)
They needed food; was that so hard for Moses to understand? The babies were crying, everyone was growing weak, people were falling out. And–as every leader learns sooner or later and usually the hard way–if you do not give them a legitimate means of registering their complaints, the people will meet in clusters and feed off one another’s misery.
By this time, a tired Moses was losing his patience. “Who are we that you murmur against us? Your griping is not against us, but against the Lord!” Then he said, “Come near before the Lord, for he has heard your murmurings.” That was the day God gave them the manna from Heaven.
Who are you, Moses, that they complain against you? You are the leader, sir. It’s true you were drafted for this position and did not volunteer for it, but every leader of God’s people since has been able to say the same thing. God calls His leaders; we don’t run for the office. And having become the leader, we share in the glories and successes but we also bear the pain of the failures and needs.
It’s the price of leadership.
Continue reading →