Succeeding Failure

When a pastor leaves due to a moral collapse, it takes a heavy toll on a church. When three consecutive senior pastors leave a church over issues of moral failure, it’s impossible to do “church as usual.”

In 1993, knowing that this was the situation, I accepted the pastorate at Faith Presbyterian Church. Still, that knowledge could not prepare me for the spiritual and organizational dysfunction my wife Carol and I were about to enter.

The looks from people who knew the history at Faith Church said it all: Does he understand what he’s getting into? I’ll give him one year. Doesn’t he value his marriage?

My initial interview with the Ministerial Committee of the Evangelical Presbyterian Church (EPC) turned out to be one of the lengthiest ever. They grilled me about my childhood, my relationship with my father, the health of my marriage. It felt like a police interrogation.

I submitted to the process because both Carol and I knew that Faith Presbyterian was where God wanted us—despite its horrific track record. We saw ourselves as neither saviors nor martyrs, but we understood the challenge and realized that an ugly cycle had to be broken.

Three strikes and you’re up

Parts of Faith’s history are magnificent. Founded in the late 1950s in Aurora, Colorado, a booming suburb of Denver, the church—young, vibrant, and exciting—mirrored the spirit of the era.

In the 1960s, however, the church encountered the first of what would become a string of moral failures.

The founding pastor, a well-liked leader, had an affair with his secretary and left the church. Disgraced but not defeated, the elders called another pastor and Faith Presbyterian moved forward.

The second pastor, a dynamic preacher and gregarious personality, became the catalyst for explosive growth in the 1970s. Under his leadership, Faith became the fastest-growing Presbyterian congregation in the United States and one of the most influential in Denver. With a new, 1,100-seat sanctuary, Faith Presbyterian became one of the first seeker-sensitive megachurches.

In 1985, the church faced another crisis when this pastor stood before a stunned congregation and told them he was divorcing his wife, who was at that moment in the hospital with a brain tumor. He was leaving immediately to “get his head together.”

It would prove to be his last sermon at Faith Church. There was no closure or opportunity for the congregation to grieve the loss of their strong, engaging leader, or to vent their anger.

Attendance dropped dramatically and a dark cloud hung over the congregation. The church would never regain its “megachurch” status.

A third senior pastor was called in 1986. For two years, the church regained some momentum and showed an increase in attendance and membership. This pastor was an excellent preacher with a strong personal presence. However, his leadership style did not emphasize consensus building or trust development. The staff and elders became polarized in a competitive, distrustful environment.

In 1992, the elders discovered the senior pastor was having an affair with the Christian Education director. He was immediately confronted and both were asked to step down. After pledging to work things out with his wife, within a year he divorced his wife and married the former C.E. director.

After his departure, the church plunged into a financial crisis and experienced an enormous deflation of morale. More people left, and staff members were laid off.

One year later, I entered the picture as Faith Church’s fourth senior pastor, inheriting a church marked by shame and disgrace. Yet I knew I was called to this dysfunctional situation.

Following the fallen

Before coming to Faith Presbyterian, I spent ten years as the founding pastor of Grace Chapel in Detroit, Michigan. I observed Faith’s ups and downs. I watched numerous other congregations spring from Faith’s church-planting efforts, and I often prayed for its influential ministry to the Denver area.

In God’s providence, I had developed a heart for Faith Presbyterian. I knew some of those who ministered there. Though I watched from afar, I felt I knew the church as more than just a casual observer. In fact, soon after news of the third pastor’s departure, a number of my friends in the EPC told me I should pursue the job.

Ironically, I learned of his leaving in May 1992 on the day of the dedication ceremony for our new building at Grace Chapel. The ceremony was a wonderful celebration. I was elated by the excitement. Immediately following the event, Ed Davis, the EPC’s stated clerk, called me aside and said, “I need to pass on some painful information. The pastor of Faith Church has had an affair and things are really bad at the church.” My heart sank. The excitement of the dedication was displaced by this disappointment.

Carol was sitting in our van waiting for me to finish the conversation. As soon as I got in the van, I told her the bad news. Then I said something that, in retrospect, may have seemed inappropriate at the time.

“Just as Ed was telling me about the affair,” I told her, “I felt God telling me, ‘Your next move is going to be Faith Church.'”

Carol’s reaction was not exactly enthusiastic: “Honey, that’s a terrible situation, and we just now dedicated our new building. Are you sure?”

Carol and I have always been able to talk to each other about anything. And we did a lot of talking about this. Eventually she, too, sensed God calling us to Colorado, though it was a huge struggle for her.

“I felt like I was going through a death experience,” she says now. “I found myself weeping at the thought of going to Faith Church. Yet, there was this clear, persistent sense that this was what God wanted us to do. It was one of the biggest tests of faith I have ever had.

“How could I get excited about a place that had proved a graveyard to pastoral marriages? But how could I not be excited if God’s hand was in it? Do I dare trust him with not just our ministry but our marriage? Would he be faithful to me through this next stage of my Christian walk?”

House of pain

It was immediately evident what a gargantuan task faced us.

On our first Sunday at Faith Church, Carol and I came in early to pray. We looked around the fellowship hall. It was in visible disrepair—peeling paint, worn-out carpet, and outdated equipment. The physical condition of the hall was, in a way, symbolic of the church’s spiritual state.

We prayed that morning for healing and restoration for the church and its ministry. But deep within, both of us were thinking, What have we gotten ourselves into here?

The worship service that morning, flat and lifeless, provided further evidence that things were not right. In a healthy congregation, members are motivated and engaged, lives are clearly being touched. It was obvious that Faith Presbyterian was a sick body. Morale had bottomed out.

Many of the younger people had already left the church. The remaining members, however, were very gracious in welcoming us. As they entered the sanctuary, most of them smiled.

“We thank God you’re here,” said one white-haired woman, “but I don’t think we can go through any more.”

There was no passionate “Let’s make a difference for Christ” spirit. The people were in pain, bleeding from their souls.

In one of my first conversations with an elder, we exchanged small talk. Then, turning serious, he asked me, “How would you describe yourself?”

“I’m kind of a visionary leader,” I answered. He abruptly cut me off and said, “Our last pastor was a visionary, and look where that got us.” End of conversation.

That elder has since proven tremendously supportive, but his reaction was indicative of the immense hurt and distrust this congregation harbored.

We sensed an aura of spiritual oppression. At times, Carol and I felt like we were in a Frank Peretti novel. We were not looking for demons behind every doorknob, but in the distrust and despair, it was clear that a spiritual battle was taking place over the soul of Faith Church.

Around Denver, there are hundreds, maybe thousands, of ex-members of Faith Church who finally said, “No more,” and moved on to a healthier environment. At times Carol and I considered joining their ranks. But there was no turning back.

Exorcising the demons

All I really knew in ministry before taking the assignment in Colorado was church planting, building a congregation from the ground up—church-growth principles, ministry strategies, vision statements, demographic surveys.

It turns out that church-planting was exactly what needed to happen at Faith. The congregation needed to start over.

Before coming, I listed about 30 things I would attempt to implement. I even shared these goals with the search committee.

Most of them were prayer-related: increase the church’s sense of unity and celebration during worship, turn the church’s focus outward, expand outreach to the community, heal and move forward. Though many of those goals have been met, the most important thing has been our attempts to find out what God is doing and simply align ourselves with him.

One of the first areas we addressed was worship. The music and worship reflected the defeated spirit of the members. This needed to change.

First, we began to articulate a biblical theology of worship that could be embraced by the church. People want to be part of something where God is worshiped with joy and beauty and the constant proclamation of his Word.

Second, we brought in a young man with an extensive background in both traditional and contemporary music. He was called to transform our worship service into a time of celebratory praise. And he immediately brought a wonderful balance and sensitivity, revitalizing the quality of our worship.

In time I discovered that, with the previous pastors, the church had been largely personality-driven. Since that is not who I am, we sought to bring the church into more of a Bible-driven mode. I’m not as charismatic as my precedessors, but many members have thanked me for being able to get out of the way of the message so that they can connect with what God is saying to them.

I also realized that Faith Presbyterian had been, in many ways, a fear-based church—both financially and in terms of leadership. We had to learn to trust God more, not only with our giving but with our leaders.

I am not one given to over-spiritualizing, but looking at Faith Presbyterian’s history, I realized that something dramatic had to happen in the spiritual realm to address the legacy of moral failure that had begun to define our identity. It was not only the previous pastors’ failures that had dragged the morale down, but that something in the very infrastructure of the church also contributed to the problems: we needed more accountability between the pastor and elder board, a greater unity among the staff and elders, and restored trust between the congregation and its leaders.

The church had not purposefully dealt with these matters. I decided that we needed to address them publicly with candor and integrity.

For more than two years, I guided the elders and the church through “Setting Your Church Free,” a program by Freedom in Christ Ministries (www.FreedominChrist.com). After months of watching instructional videos, the elders and the staff came together to develop a prayer action plan, which would identify corporate sins, patterns of dysfunction, and a new focus for the church’s ministry.

It was a time of deep emotion and honesty, as specific individuals were identified and held up before the Lord for forgiveness and restoration.

The renouncing of individual and corporate sin was only the beginning. The action plan was then communicated to the entire congregation through my fall sermon series.

Together, we cried out to God. And, in the doing, we grew closer as a body. A new story was being written in our church’s life, and it offered a powerful testimony to those who observed from without. Instead of being a problem for visitors, we were amazed at how many expressed a sense of appreciation about the spiritual honesty of the congregation.

Of course, that didn’t mean that the church was problem free. It was, however, a decisive break with the past.

A new vision

Though Carol and I at times wanted to pack our bags and return to Michigan, we now see how God has worked through us and the other leaders—and through the church’s grim history—to build something that honors him.

Today, Faith Church has taken on the ethos of a once-faltering restaurant now under new management. What a relief for a congregation to know that the church is run by a senior pastor and a team of elders who are mutually accountable to one another.

Although we’ve moved forward, we continue to learn and grow from our past. Having been there ourselves, we have a heart for those suffering through brokenness and failure.

The church has stabilized. Though no longer a megachurch with unlimited growth potential, we are now a solid church with a weekly attendance of 800.

What’s more, Faith Church has begun wrestling with the question, Why do we exist? In the past, it was assumed that the church existed to offer family-friendly programs and to grow large in numbers. Now we’re seeking a specific God-given calling.

We’ve adopted a vision statement about who we are and what we’re becoming: “Faith Church exists to know and worship the Triune God and to make Him known.”

The statement expresses the three critical components of our calling: (1) knowing God—study, discipleship, prayer; (2) worship—learning to praise him in spirit and truth; (3) making him known—an outreach orientation where we share our faith as a way of life.

In the years since Faith Church’s founding, our community has changed from an upper-middle-class suburb to an area with pockets of urban blight. As a church, we’ve been able to reach out to the needy—both spiritually and physically.

Now we are known for our food co-op program, Share Colorado. Every Saturday morning, the church parking lot is crowded with cars as people pick up free groceries. We’ve also maintained a strong emphasis on foreign missions.

A whole new story is emerging. We are selling four acres of our property to a wonderful African-American congregation and have plans to partner with them in outreach. We already share in retreats and Bible studies and some worship events. We have a fledgling Iranian congregation meeting in our facility and a very active Cambodian ministry. We’ve also started a young couples ministry called “Homebuilders” that has begun to take off.

More and more, our people have begun to view our history as a gift from God. We’ve experienced great highs and lows. We’ve suffered in uncanny ways. But we’re now able to feel for others and to love with Christ’s love.

For many, the wounds of the past are still too fresh. But our vision is that, someday, Faith Presbyterian Church will not be remembered as a house of scandal and dysfunction, but as a church where real people can go to heal and serve and worship—a church that has redeemed its past.

Douglas Klein is pastor of Faith Presbyterian Church 11373 E. Alameda Aurora CO 80012 dougklein1954@aol.com

What we renounced, what we affirmed

Together, we prayed through our unhealthy history. We renounced our congregational sins:

our tolerating of immorality and adultery
our attitude of self-sufficiency that leads to superficiality in our walk with God
our spirit of gossip and criticism
our unethical, impulsive, self-serving patterns of leadership
our lack of trust in our leaders out of fear of being hurt.

At the same time, we announced and affirmed what we would become in Christ. We committed to: