“All right, start at the beginning and tell me what happened.”

He fidgeted a little, leaned forward in the office chair, and said, “At first, we were excited about him becoming our pastor. We’re a small church, you know, and he was an outsider. He came in after the storm, seemed to have an unusual vision for what a little church like ours could do, and we bought it.”

I said, “You liked his preaching?”

“He’s a pretty good preacher. Not the greatest in the world, but we’re a small church and we’ve never been spoiled in that regard. But he was fresh and, I think the word is, driven.”

“Anyway,” he continued, “we called him as pastor.”

I said, “If I recall, you wanted him pretty badly. He kept turning you down and you kept calling him back and insisting that he consider becoming pastor of your church.”

Long silence. “We thought he would do our church so much good. The people really liked him.”

“And from where I sit, he has done the church a lot of good.”

He said, “From the outside, it would appear that way.” Another long silence. “But it’s like some families that look good to the neighbors but it’s another story inside the house.”

“So what happened?”

“He came in and started spending all that money to revamp the buildings to host outside church teams that were coming to help rebuild the city.”

I said, “Didn’t the church vote to do that? And someone in the congregation gave the money for it?”

“Yes, in a way. The congregation just didn’t realize what it was getting. He started acting like he was the construction boss or something. Giving orders. Making decisions on what wall to tear down, which rooms to install bunk beds in, choosing the stoves for the kitchen. We’re not used to that.”

“You’re not used to what?”

“We’re not used to a pastor being a dictator. Our little church likes to make decisions in business meetings. And, I don’t know if you’re aware of this or not, but he can be short-tempered. He’s offended some people.”

I nodded. I had seen some of that, and in fact, the pastor and I had discussed it. He’s aware of the problem and working on it. I suspect much of it results from the long hours he puts in and not getting enough rest.

“So, what’s the bottom line?” I asked.

“He needs to go, to put it bluntly. We made a mistake in calling him as our pastor, and I just hope we can undo it without too much damage.”

I said, “Sir, may I ask you a question. In the six months he has been your pastor, it appears to me your church has done more for the Kingdom of God than in the last 17 years since I’ve lived in this area. Tell me if that’s not right.”

He didn’t say anything, so I went on.

“Every week, your church is hosting volunteer teams from around the country that want to come in and help you reach the community. They’ve rebuilt much of your church. They constructed that wonderful playground behind your buildings. In fact, one of them sent in a load of furniture for you all to give out in the community and they even furnished the church pastorium.”

Silence.

“I see your pastor almost every week at my office. He’s told us about the hundreds of families your church has helped and all those led to Christ by visitation teams going door-to-door. In fact, your church is one of the success stories of our association since the storm.”

He finally spoke. “I knew you wouldn’t understand, you being a pastor.”

I’m not actually a pastor any more, but decided not to quibble over the matter. A director of missions is often called the pastor to the pastors. I make no apology for standing up for God’s faithful servants, although there is no excuse for preachers with bad mental health who abuse the Lord’s church.

I said, “My being a pastor has nothing to do with it. It’s not about me, sir. It’s about you, and perhaps a few people in your church. You’ve lost control and you think that means the pastor has to go. Jesus Christ is calling the shots now, His man is in the pulpit, people are being saved, the community has finally learned that your church exists–and no one is looking to you as the leader. That’s hard on you.”

“The work of your church has extended far beyond your small community. Your pastor tells me that many of the groups that have come here have returned home with a vision for reaching their own community. If they can go door-to-door in this city and minister to people, they can do it where they live. Some of those church have doubled in size as a result of spending a week in your church.”

More silence from him. So I kept on.

“And you have come to the conclusion that the pastor needs to leave. That is the amazing part to me.”

He spoke. “We don’t even hold monthly business meetings any more. We’re not sure what is happening to the money.”

I said, “You have a genuine concern and we need to speak to him about that. I’ll be glad to go with you. But you don’t run him off just because you are unhappy with him.”

“Well, that’s where we differ,” he said. “As far as I can tell, no one is happy with him.”

I said, “What is your point?”

“Huh?” he said. “You don’t think it matters whether we’re happy with him or not?”

“Not much. I’ll tell you one thing, sir. It doesn’t matter to the Lord Jesus Christ. Not one iota. He does not give a fig whether you are happy with the pastor He has sent you or not.”

“Well, that’s not how I understand Baptist polity. I was always taught that the pastor served at the pleasure of the congregation. We called him because we liked him and when no one supports him any more, we can vote him out.”

“Sir,” I said, “I really appreciate your coming in to talk with me about this, because you’re giving me a chance to clear up a misconception that a lot of churches–not just yours–are laboring under.”

He had nothing to say, so I continued.

“Jesus Christ is not a Baptist.” I let that sink in. I suspect he thought I was trying to be cute.

I said, “The Lord Jesus does not hold monthly business meetings to make decisions. He does not take majority votes to determine His will. And I’ll tell you something harder than that: He doesn’t ask me and He does not ask you.”

He spoke. “That pastor is not Jesus Christ.”

I agreed. “You’re right. And you’re right that he needs to be accountable to the congregation. But you’re missing the point on everything else.”

“Sir,” I went on, “I expect that half the churches of our denomination think the pastor’s job is to make them happy. The highest compliment they can give a preacher is to say that everyone likes him. But the simple fact is, that has almost nothing to do with anything. In fact, the Lord Jesus told us to beware when all men speak well of us. If anything, that could be a sign we’re people-pleasing, not Jesus-pleasing.”

“That’s where we differ,” he said. I could tell his dander was up. “I think he is here to serve the congregation. And when we don’t support him any more, he needs to go.”

“I’ll grant you this,” I said. “Any church can vote a pastor out at any time. But the church does not make a man the pastor.”

That really got to him. “Are you serious? We called him as pastor by voting on him. I was chairman of the committee. We made him the pastor.”

“Not according to Scripture, you didn’t. In Acts 20:28, Paul tells the pastors of Ephesus they are to ‘be on guard for all the flock among whom the Holy Spirit has made you the overseers.’ You may have voted, but the way I understand the process, you’re voting as to what you believe the Holy Spirit has done. You’re saying the Lord has chosen this man to be our pastor and we are agreeing to that.”

“But you are most definitely not making him your pastor,” I emphasized.

“Well, we can unmake him as pastor, and if I have any say-so, that’s what we are about to do.”

I said, “The congregation can certainly do that. And if it does, don’t be surprised if the Lord decides to unmake you as a church. If you run this pastor off, I predict your little church will sit there and die. God has blessed you folks by sending you a pastor with a heart for Him and a love for people and a genuine passion to reach the lost, and you are blowing it because he’s not following your rules.”

I gave him a moment to react. When he didn’t, I finished up.

“Can you see the pride in that? ‘The pastor is not making me happy, so I want him gone.’ Sir, you need to realize the Lord did not send him to make you happy. He sent that pastor to make you healthy and Him happy. Two far, far different things.”

“May I suggest something, something that may be very hard for you at first.” More silence.

“Give the church back to Jesus. It’s His church. That Acts 20:28 verse calls it ‘the church of God which He purchased with His own blood.’ You didn’t die for that church. He did. It’s His.”

“It may have ‘Baptist’ on the sign out front, but the church does not belong to the denomination. It is not mine, and it’s not yours. In fact, sir, the church doesn’t even belong to the congregation. Scripture tells us the church is the Body of Christ and the Bride of Christ. It’s His. Give it back to Him. You’d be surprised how liberating a thing that can be.”

“Get your eyes off the pastor. He’s trying to please the Lord who sent Him. If in the process he pleases you, that would be all right. But it’s beside the point. You’re unhappy with him now because you’re not on the same page as the Lord. You have your own agenda for the pastor but it has nothing to do with the Lord’s plan. That’s why you’re unhappy with him; you’re resisting the Lord, my friend.”

“The best prayer any of us will ever pray is ‘Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do?’ Get on His agenda.”

“And the next time the pastor gets up a group to knock on doors and tell people about the Savior, volunteer to go along. It will do more to change your way of thinking than a hundred visits with your associational director of missions.”

“But thanks for coming in. That’s what we’re here for.”