I’m thinking about two deacons, both warm-hearted effective men of God. It wasn’t always that way.
“I don’t want him on the deacons,” I told the committee assigned to recommend the next group to be elected by the church. “Trust me on this. He has no business bearing this responsibility.”
I hoped they would drop the matter there. The man in question, I’ll call him Malachi, had been a deacon for several terms, was inactive at the moment and was being considered for re-election.
Pastors know things about church members few others do, as a rule, and yet we don’t want to talk about these things in open forums. Or anywhere else, for that matter. (I once asked in a personnel committee meeting, “Can we speak in confidence here?” The chairman said, “Pastor, I wouldn’t say anything in this room you don’t want repeated.” That was good advice.)
After the committee adjourned, one of the men followed me into my office. “I have to know,”he said. “What is this secret about Malachi that disqualifies him from serving as a deacon.” When I hesitated, he said, “He’s meant a lot to this church through the years. There may be something we can do for him.”
I said, “He’s being seen regularly at the casino, gambling. It appears he’s going there every day and staying for hours.”
The leader said, “You know this for a fact?” I told him of a certain church-member-in-name-only whom I bump into occasionally, who had told me this. “And you believe him?” I said, “Oh yes. He has his faults, but dishonesty is not one of them.”
“Then, let’s talk to him,” he said. Talk to Malachi.