Performance Reviews: Avoiding the Pitfalls

Most pastors I know are committed to personal growth. Not many are willing to settle for mediocrity. The vast majority spend hours reading, praying, and studying in an unending quest for spiritual and professional growth.

Yet, curiously, many of us avoid the most vital ingredient for continued growth-someone to candidly tell us how we are doing.

My friend Dave is a case in point. In fifteen years of ministry he has never received a formal evaluation. It's not that he is unaware of the potential benefits. It's that he is also keenly aware of the potential pitfalls. He knows firsthand the sting of betrayal. The thought of providing a platform for a small group of adversaries to air their grievances makes the idea out of the question.

In many ways, Dave is right. Reviews can be risky; handled poorly, they can give our enemies an opportunity to open fire. Expecting the precise scalpel of correction, we can get the blunt ax of criticism. I know two pastors who left seemingly successful ministries within months of a bungled evaluation.

Despite the potential dangers, however, the hazards of avoiding reviews are even greater. We all have a natural tendency to exaggerate our strengths and downplay our weaknesses. One study of over 800,000 people found that everyone in the test sample rated himself above average in "the ability to get along with others." Only 2 percent saw themselves below average in "leadership ability." Obviously at least half the people were mistaken in their self-evaluation.

The fact is, we are unaware of spiritual and personal blind spots-like a loose thread or a twisted collar-until someone dares to speak up. Many folks notice them but lack the opportunity, and sometimes the courage, to tell us.

Still, most of us will hesitate to open ourselves until we feel reasonably sure we'll get the advice we need without, at the same time, getting ambushed. I know the feeling, and so over the years I've developed guidelines for my pastoral reviews. They've enabled me to avoid the pitfalls, yet still receive the benefits, of a candid review.

Initiate the Process

Perhaps the most effective way to eliminate many of the problems is to make sure I am the one initiating the process. Somehow an evaluation I have requested is radically different from one imposed by others.

Asking for a review disarms most potential enemies. I've learned that critics often become friends when they perceive themselves as advisers. Instead of feeling a need to overstate every concern in order to be heard, they realize I actually want to hear what they have to say.

In addition, a self-initiated evaluation grants me a measure of control over the participants. The fact is, many reviews go awry because the wrong people do the evaluating.

This was Dave's major concern. His deacon board was a mess. Two of his biggest antagonists were members; most of the rest of the board gave little evidence of spiritual maturity or insight. As far as he was concerned, they had nothing to offer in the realms of spiritual or personal advice.

I would agree. But Dave failed to see it wasn't necessary for his board members to do the reviewing. By initiating the process himself, he could choose anyone he wanted.

For instance, while serving as an assistant pastor in one church, I felt the deacons, while fine people, simply didn't know me, or my ministry, I well enough to be of much help.

So I contacted individuals involved in my area of ministry, as well as is two staff pastors with whom I worked closely. I asked them to complete a brief questionnaire and then to meet with me to discuss any areas in which they felt I needed to grow. To keep the deacon board from feeling slighted, I was careful to present this as a request for personal evaluation and accountability rather than a job performance review, which would remain the board's prerogative.

The result? A helpful evaluation by people who knew me and my ministry well enough to move beyond superficial impressions. More important, I had no excuse to ignore their advice; after all, I had hand picked the participants.

Here at North Coast, I've been blessed with wise and godly elders, so I've used them as the primary reviewers of my life and ministry. Yet it's important to note that I've not relinquished control or institutionalized the process. My annual evaluation remains at my initiative. The board doesn't schedule it; I do.

Thus, if our board should ever suffer a fate similar to Dave's, I'd be able to avoid being led as a lamb to slaughter. I would simply hold off scheduling the event and instead quietly seek out another group of advisers whose insight and spirituality I could respect.

Obviously, there's great potential for abuse here. Like Rehoboam, I could surround myself with yes men rather than wise counselors. To avoid this, I've made a commitment never to change advisers because of what they say or think, but only when spiritual or moral failure has rendered their insight suspect.

A self-initiated review also allows me a measure of control over the process. When a pastoral evaluation is controlled by the board or becomes institutionalized, I'm left with little say about what tools are used or how the process is carried out. Since most lay leaders live in the business world, it comes as no surprise when they use appraisals and performance reviews that parallel the models there. I know one pastor whose evaluation was based on questions used by a large interstate trucking firm!

I don't want to be limited to the things covered by the typical employee review-how I'm doing my job and how I'm fitting into the organization's culture. I also want to know where I need to grow as a leader and as a person, and how I am doing as a father, husband, and spiritual example.

A final advantage of a self-initiated review is that it helps overcome the biggest obstacle to personal growth-my own defensiveness. Like most folks, I've struggled at times with those who disagree with me. When I feel threatened, I'm less likely to hear what others are saying. When criticized, I'm more apt to offer an excuse than change.

But asking for a critique transforms the environment. Instead of feeling attacked, I feel assisted. Instead of being cast in the role of an employee wondering if the bosses are happy, I'm put in the position of a leader soliciting candid advice. The difference is significant.

I consider this principle of self-initiated review so important that I've never forced a formal evaluation on staff members. While we do have job descriptions and annual reviews, they fall far short of the no-holds-barred evaluation of both professional and personal life that I'm talking about. I know the staff will benefit most from a review when they feel least threatened, so I let them pick the participants, process, and areas of review. More important, I allow them to choose even whether to be reviewed.

Choose the Time Carefully

I've also found it's important to avoid being reviewed during times of great personal failure or unusual stress. At times like these, we are aware of more than enough areas needing work. The last thing we need is the exposure of a few more blind spots.

My first two years at North Coast were difficult, to say the least. A change from the founding pastor's style of leadership, some mistakes by me, and a poorly equipped leadership board resulted in constant turnover. Old families seemed to leave as fast as new ones came in. Make that a little faster.

I felt I was failing miserably. Most of my peers would have agreed. I didn't need anyone to point out new areas demanding work. Based on the problems I could see, and the informal feedback I was getting, I had plenty of things to work on. Right then, a formal review might well have been the breaking point. I was too beaten down; a poor review might have sent me into another career.

So I didn't initiate a review during those two years. Only when the church had begun to turn around did I ask for one. This is not to say I don't seek feedback during difficult times. But I don't ask for a thorough critique of my life and ministry when I'm standing on the brink. Why invite someone to push me over?

I also avoid asking for a review during times of unusual stress or emotional pressure. Any candid review inevitably deals with weak areas and offers hard-to-hear criticism. That's the purpose. Yet when I'm emotionally strained, it's too easy for little things to be blown out of proportion.

I know a pastor who built a small rural church into one of the largest churches in his denomination. For twenty-four years he had enjoyed a great ministry. Then, during a personal low time, his board chose to review his administrative skills and conflict-management style. They were not too complimentary, though they loved him and would have overlooked weaknesses in these areas for another twenty-four years.

Because of his emotional state at the time, he was devastated. Feeling unappreciated and angry, he resigned within two weeks.

Both he and his board would have been better served had he asked for a delay in the process. But since the evaluation was at the board's initiative, not his, he felt trapped and unable to do that. Even so, it would have been worth a try. Things could hardly have ended up worse.

Obviously, if I find myself continually facing tough times, something is wrong. In that case, I probably need candid feedback to find out what I'm doing to help cause the situation. But during times of unusual failure or stress, I stay away from the high-intensity searchlight. I already have enough stuff to work on.

Avoid Anonymous Responses

Many people assume that anonymity increases candor. I have my doubts about that. I certainly know that anonymity undercuts an effective pastoral review-for two reasons.

First, anonymous responses ignore a basic principle of evaluation: Criticisms and compliments should be weighed, not counted.

A few years ago, one of our most strait-laced board members complained that I was too earthy. I merely shrugged it off. By his standards, I wanted to be. But when another, tough-skinned individual pointed out how I had hurt his feelings, I set about immediately to see that it wouldn't happen again.

I recognize that Dave will always want more of an evangelistic emphasis; Jim will want greater depth. Peter will think I am refreshingly candid; Don will label me as too blunt. Only by knowing who said what can I tell the significance of an observation.

A second problem with anonymity is that it often fosters misunderstanding. By its very nature, an anonymous response makes clarification and explanation impossible.

During one of my annual reviews, I received an evaluation that said I was a loner and unsupportive of others. I was shocked and hurt. That was one complaint I'd never heard; I couldn't figure it out. Fortunately, since the evaluations were signed, I was able to ask the individual what he meant. He told me he was concerned that I was not involved with, or supportive of, our denomination. In no way, he said, did he think I was a loner and unsupportive of the people in our church. He just wanted to see me more involved in the larger church family.

When I explained that I attended without fail a monthly meeting with our district superintendent, and I also served on the district ordination committee, he was satisfied. Because I rarely spoke of these things, he assumed I didn't support the denomination. Had his critique been anonymous, I would have worried I was somehow losing touch with people, and he would have continued to be irritated with my seeming lack of support for the larger body of Christ.

Perhaps the most common and dangerous form of an anonymous review is the one carried out in the pastor's absence. According to the typical scenario, a group meets to evaluate the pastor's life or ministry. When finished, they send one person to communicate the results.

This makes clarification and explanation nearly impossible. It forces the pastor to rely on one person's interpretation of what was said, meant, and felt by the others. The potential for misunderstanding is staggering. Even worse, it gives an antagonist an opportunity to make unchallenged accusations. Usually by the time these are cleared up, damage has already been done.

I've come to the conclusion that people who won't say something to my face have no right to be heard. If I can't get an honest answer without anonymity, I'm left with serious questions about their integrity and courage. And if, on the other hand, people are too intimidated by my presence to respond openly, I probably have bigger problems than any pastoral review will be able to solve.

Get It in Writing

Still another pitfall I've learned to avoid is the verbal review in which people give me their appraisals without first having written them down.

Why get observations in writing?

First, many people have a hard time expressing negative or critical opinions face to face. Others feel insecure thinking on their feet. To ask for a candid verbal review is unfair to them; they simply can't do it. Yet many of these same people have no problem when asked to put their thoughts on paper. Somehow, writing frees them to say things they would never dare say aloud. Their answers become more detailed and straightforward.

At the same time, our asking for written responses has never inhibited our more extroverted members. They simply jot a brief answer and then cheerfully expand on it when their turn to speak comes.

A second reason I insist on written evaluations is that they can't be swayed by the consensus of the meeting. Verbal responses, on the other hand, are easily molded by the remarks of those who speak first. I learned this principle when we set up home fellowships. Since these meetings were based on discussion, it was vital that everyone participate. But we discovered many people wouldn't give their original answer to a question once they heard another answer that sounded more insightful. Instead they would say, "I feel that way, too." We solved this problem by having everyone first write an answer, and then read it aloud. This committed them to expressing their original thoughts.

I use the same technique during my annual review. Either ahead of time or at the beginning of the meeting, I ask each participant to write his observations. Then, I either collect the papers or go around the room and have people read them. This way, I'll be exposed to their original thoughts and feelings. I also keep the more articulate members from controlling the meeting. Only after all the comments are out do we discuss them.

Change Evaluation Tools Often

Another way to maximize the benefit of a pastoral review is to change evaluation tools frequently. Questions, no matter how good or insightful, soon become routine. Only once have I used the same tool two years in a row. I did it because the first time went so well. But, predictably, the second was short and superficial. Everyone knew ahead of time what the basic responses would be. One man even asked, "Why do we need to keep harping on this stuff?"

The one advantage of using the same tool again is it allows you to see where growth has taken place from one year to the next. But I've found there is usually enough overlap from one tool to another to make this unnecessary.

By using a variety of evaluation tools, I've been able to get feedback from a number of different perspectives. Each looks at life and ministry through a slightly different filter, highlighting some areas while ignoring others. For instance, last year's review focused on my life in general. The year before I chose one that zeroed in on ministry skills. Others have focused on my preaching, leadership style, or spiritual walk. By looking at myself from each of these perspectives, I've been able to get a more accurate reading of my strengths and weaknesses.

These evaluation tools can be found in a variety of places (see "Where To Find Tools For Evaluation"). Even if you've not yet collected any, it's fairly easy to find one or two a year simply by keeping a lookout and asking a few colleagues for help. Whenever I come across a new one, I file it for future use. I seldom use one as found but instead adapt it to fit my situation.

Avoid Combining Performance and Salary Reviews

Finally, I've also found it's important to keep my pastoral reviews separate from salary reviews. Not that a salary shouldn't be tied to performance (Scriptures like 1 Timothy 5:17-18 suggest they're related), but I will not be as open to personal growth during a review tied to salary considerations as I will during one that's entirely separate. Frankly, if the results of my review affect my salary, I won't be too eager for people to bring up areas needing work. I certainly won't want someone exposing previously unknown blind spots! Yet, ironically, the most common time for pastors to receive an evaluation is at salary review time.

I usually schedule my review soon after our annual budget is set. As I see it, a pastoral review and a salary review have two different purposes. A salary review is to determine a fair and equitable salary in light of responsibilities, skills, and experience. A pastoral review is to help me see more clearly what I do well and what I need to work on. One sets my compensation level; the other determines my personal agenda.

If a review must be tied to salary considerations, I would schedule it three to six months before salaries are determined. That way, there is time to work on any areas needing improvement before final decisions are made. Otherwise, those who receive a negative evaluation are stuck for the next year with a monthly reminder of the previous year's problems. Rather than motivate growth, this is likely to arouse resentment and a change of address. Even worse is an excellent review followed by a meager pay increase. Most people quickly forget the positive words as they open their pay envelope each month.

Revitalizing Review

By carefully following these guidelines, I've been able to make my annual review something I actually look forward to. It's the one time in the year when I can take stock of where I've been, where I am, and where I need to go.

At my first review here at North Coast, we covered some heavy stuff. While I received plenty of praise, there were also some harsh criticisms. In particular, we discussed at length my insensitivity to people who see things differently. I also discovered I wasn't delegating nearly as effectively as I'd thought.

The next morning, our board chairman called. He sounded worried. "Are you doing okay, Larry?" he asked. "I was afraid you might have been crushed by some of the things we said last night."

Actually, I'd rushed home to tell my wife what a fantastic meeting it had been. My board had been open with me. I had learned a great deal about myself and my ministry. I had received a much clearer picture of my strengths and weaknesses, and now I could work on them.

What our chairman failed to grasp was that, in the controlled environment of my pastoral review, I had not been unfairly criticized. I had received the faithful wounds of my friends. There is no comparison between the two.