“The former pastor is coming back to our church. He wants it back.”

I said, “Wait a minute. Let me get this straight. He wants to take over your church?”

“Right. He started the church 15 years ago. Then about 7 or 8 years ago, he left with a little group and began another church, more of a Pentecostal type, I suppose you would say.”

“And what happened?”

“The hurricane scattered his members and now he has only a small group, not enough to hold church with, so he has apparently decided he’ll just come back and take over our church.”

I said, “How long have you been the pastor?”

“Five years.” I said, “Do you know this man?”

He said, “A little. I’ve met him. A year or so ago, he showed up in our services and while I was making announcements, he walked to the front and snatched the microphone out of my hand and started speaking.”

“And you let him?”

“I didn’t think I had a choice. I didn’t want to create a disturbance.”

“He had already done that for you. How long did he speak?”

“It must have been 15 minutes.”

“And then what happened?”

“Nothing. He just disappeared. And now this week, I get word that he and some of his people are going to be in our services Sunday and he intends to come back as pastor.”

“To push you out?”

“Evidently. He says he started this church and it’s his and he wants it back.”

I was stunned at the sheer gall of this character. Earlier that morning, I had spent two hours with another pastor discussing what to do about a layman in his congregation with a ruling complex. Now, we have a preacher afflicted with the same disease, perhaps even a worse strain of that egotistical virus.

We sat there quietly for a moment while I tried getting my head around this situation. I said, “Do you let anyone who wishes use the microphone and speak?”

“Oh no,” he laughed. “We’re pretty strict about that in our church.”

“Who’s in charge? Who decides?”

“The pastor does. Me.”

“So, don’t let him speak. Don’t let him get to the microphone.”

“It’s not that simple. He will stand up in the middle of the church and holler to be heard.”

“This is a mean dude, isn’t he?”

“From all I know. He is not to be trusted at all.”

I said, “Are your church leaders with you in this? Or, are they loyal to the former pastor?”

“Most of them were not here when he was here. They do not know him at all. And some of the ones who do were glad when he left.”

“So, you’re in a good position to take a firm stand. You have your church leadership with you.”

“Yes. I’m confident of that.”

“Then, it appears that you have the following choices. You can let him come in and do anything he wants to do, and then deal with the confusion he causes. Or you can stop him from speaking. To do that, you either have to prevent him from entering the building or get his promise at the door that he will not speak.”

“That wouldn’t work. He doesn’t keep his word.”

I was incredulous. “You mean he might promise you at the door he was not going to speak or disturb the service, then do it once he got inside?”

“That’s exactly what I mean. This man abides by nobody’s rules but his own.”

“In that case, you don’t want to let him inside at all. Your choices are to have people at the door to prevent him from entering, or to send some men to his house to serve him notice.”

“We have the right to do that?”

“Of course. It’s pretty drastic. And I wouldn’t do it without getting my leadership together before Sunday and making sure everyone knew what was going on.”

He was quiet a moment, and then gave a little smile and said, “He thinks it’s his church.”

I said, “That’s a common misconception with some people who start a church or hold a longtime membership in one. ‘We were here first, so it belongs to us.’ People like that are basically pagans. They don’t have a clue about the nature of the church, that it belongs to the Lord, that it is His Family. They see it as a collection of Christians who meet to hold services and do religious activities. They leave the Lord out of it altogether. It’s all about them.”

“You see that a lot?” he asked.

“More than I’d like. I once had a deacon tell me that the people who come to Wednesday night prayer services in our church are ‘are not the First Baptist Church.’ I wasn’t sure what he meant, so I said, ‘Okay, I’ll bite. Who are the First Baptist Church?’ He said, ‘The longtime members. Those who have been here through the years. The ones who have paid the big bucks.’ I said, ‘That is the most elitist thing I have ever heard.’ Not exactly the way to endear myself to this egotistical layman.”

I said, “So, it afflicts the pew as well as the pulpit.”

He said, “I’m on solid ground preventing this man from entering the church?”

“If things are as you say they are, you surely are.”

He had brought along a staff member, a local businessman, who was nodding his head the entire time. He had sat there quietly taking everything in. Now he said, “He didn’t tell the half of it. This man is trouble. I was there when he was our pastor, and we were all glad when he left.”

I said, “One of your jobs is to protect the peace and unity of the congregation. The Bible says, ‘Be on guard for yourself and for all the flock among whom the Holy Spirit has made you overseers.’ That’s in Acts 20. Paul warns the Ephesian pastors to watch out for wolves that will be prowling around looking to cause trouble.”

“So it’s not a new problem?” he laughed.

“How does that line from Ecclesiastes go—‘I saw there is nothing new under the sun.’ That’s one reason the Bible is so up-to-date in its counsel. Human nature is still the same. There have always been people like Diotrephes, the church-boss John deals with in the epistle of Third John. Remember him?”

“Oh yeah.” Both men laughed. “We’ve met a couple of those along the way. ‘He loves to have the pre-eminence.'”

I said, “Sometimes it’s the pulpit where the ego is running amok, and sometimes it’s in the pew. In either case, it will destroy a congregation if it’s not dealt with.”

“Best to not let it inside to begin with,” the pastor said.

“If you can possibly do that,” I said.

In our prayer, I asked God to grant this pastor boldness and courage. He’s a gentle person and his inclination is to want to make people happy. But he’s going to need to stand tall and be firm to protect his congregation.

Maybe that’s why the Lord put His churches under the care of shepherds. In carrying out their assignment to protect the sheep, shepherds carry two sticks–a staff with which to bring back the straying lamb and a rod with which to fight off the attacking animal.

“Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me.” (Psalm 23:4)