In a church, the stewardship of power is more important than the stewardship of money.
—Arthur DeKruyter
After a year and a half in my present ministry, I suddenly was plunged into a crisis: four board members were leading a movement to oust me. These were the turbulent days of the McCarthy era, and the four trustees were convinced we should identify with a politically ultra-conservative group. I insisted that the church was not a political organization.
They questioned my priorities. They told me I was “unfit to pastor the congregation.”
“If you ask for my resignation and can explain your reasons to the congregation, I will do so,” I replied. But they weren’t willing to present their reasons publicly. So they appointed an investigating committee which eventually, of course, would find reason to get rid of me.
So I, along with two trustees who understood the situation, went to every family in the congregation that week. We told each one what was going on. Those four board members felt the pressure and left the church, eventually taking a quarter of the congregation with them.
That “solved” one problem but created another. With the departure of these four, our board was left without a quorum. We couldn’t even hold a congregational meeting to elect a new board because only the board had the authority to call a congregational meeting.
Naturally, in such a divisive situation, I was concerned about who, in fact, legally controlled the assets of the church—the four dissident board members, who constituted a quorum, or the minority who remained. So I contacted an attorney and reviewed our church’s constitution. I discovered that our constitution specified that the chairman of the board (in this case, the pastor) had full authority to act for the board in such an emergency.
That bit of information saved our fledgling congregation from a raw political power play. It was then that I first realized how important a constitution could be to a church.
As pastors, our first concern is to preach and pray, but we dare not remove ourselves from paying heed to the structure of a church. Good structure—like a constitution provides—is a fundamental element of the stewardship of power. And in a church, the stewardship of power is more important than the stewardship of money.
A church is both an organism and an organization. As it grows, the importance of proper structure grows with it. This demands careful attention to make sure power is properly channeled. That’s one of the key functions of church management.
When I think of the proper stewardship of power, I think of the five laymen who, after that crisis, helped shepherd our church. They were powerful individuals who could have led a battle against the preacher and probably won.
I was younger and needed training in administration. They were willing to help, and more important, they wanted me to succeed. They taught me how to use and distribute power. Let me share, then, some of the things they taught me, and some things I have learned elsewhere, about the stewardship of power.
Power Is a Trust
First, these wise individuals taught me that I was not entitled to power. The church did not belong to me, just as it did not belong to them. I learned to separate myself from the institution, as difficult as that was. They pointed out that power is fiduciary—entrusted to us by God and granted to us by the people we lead.
The call to ministry, and thus to a position of power, is part of a larger trust. To be ordained is to be accepted and authorized by the people of Jesus Christ. They delegate to the pastor the leadership of the body of Christ. We don’t seize leadership or lay hands on ourselves. Rather, in ordination, a group of Christians in effect say, “We believe this person is qualified and possesses a sense of divine calling. We acknowledge that calling and have, therefore, asked him to perform a specific task among us.”
Thus, along with our authority to proclaim the Word of God to the people, we also have the obligation to manage the authority and power handed us. It is a power derived from God, yes, but through his people. In short, power is a trust, to be used, not for myself, but on behalf of the church.
Power Is Accountable
Those five leaders also impressed upon me the responsibility power brings with it to be always accountable, either to a person or to a group. I cannot function independently of God’s people. Not even strong congregational loyalties to the pastor should short-circuit personal accountability.
A particular danger threatens pastors, such as me, who have founded a church: the temptation to abuse the power naturally accumulated. After all, nearly everyone likes my way of doing things or they would not have joined this church and remained members. But therein lies the potential for abuse. People will not readily challenge me publicly or privately if they have respected my leadership for years.
Therefore, in my case, I am careful to be accountable to my board. This groups understands the vision of Christ Church, but they are strong, independent thinkers. They can ask me any question—and do! They can disagree with me and vote against my wishes. And I am willing to take their discipline when they feel it necessary. I encourage such independence of thought and action; it keeps me accountable.
Our building committee was formulating plans for a new kitchen some time ago. They had consulted professionals, but I felt their plan had serious Haws. We’d had a lot of problems in the previous kitchen, and I didn’t want them repeated. Time and again, I strongly stated my case to them, to no avail; the building committee chairman and the architect had other ideas. I could have continued to campaign against the plans, but I recognized the authority of the board. If the board had considered all the evidence, and if the board was persuaded to go with the architect’s plan, 1 wasn’t going to keep arguing.
Accountability also means I must be open with the board; I must never be covert or keep secrets.
For example, sometimes ministers are given exceptional gifts from members of the congregation. The temptation for pastors is not to let anyone know. Once a member offered to give a used car to one of our staff pastors. The pastor told the member he’d have to consult the board. The board safeguards our staff because we make sure they know about such gifts. Why? When people have given special gifts, it’s easy to afford those people special treatment. But we want to be fair to both poor and rich, to those who have given gifts and those who haven’t. We long to obey the command of James not to honor above others the fellow with the golden ring. By letting others in on the decision whether to accept these kinds of gifts, we minimize that danger.
This principle applies whether I’m deriding who I perform a wedding for, or who uses the building, or whether someone can borrow the church’s video equipment for personal use. The rules of the organization must be observed without exception. The minute I start making exceptions and giving preferential treatment to some, I sacrifice integrity. That’s a definite misuse of power.
If someone seeks preferential treatment, then firm consistency becomes the best policy. If I am consistent, people will learn to expect it and trust me.
Of course, when I turn down inappropriate requests, the people sometimes fume because I refused to bend the rules for them. But in the long run, it’s still a better policy. Eventually they accept it and perhaps even respect me, assured that no one else will likely manipulate me. That is important in a church, for seeking favoritism is nothing more than a power play in disguise.
Power Is to Be Delegated
When I delegate responsibility, at the same time I must delegate the power to perform it. Furthermore, I never withdraw that power without clearly saying so.
If a father, dissatisfied with the preschool class, approaches me, insisting that I change preschool teachers, for instance, I remind him that I don’t run that department. I then refer him to the proper person.
If he says, “I’ve already talked to the Christian education chairwoman, and she doesn’t want to listen,” I reply, “Well, she runs the department, not me. I’ll discuss the matter with her, but if she doesn’t want to change teachers, I guess they won’t be changed.”
I expect that same respect to prevail among staff members. To function as a team, we have to respect the power for which each of us has jurisdiction. When we design job descriptions for staff members and volunteer workers, we must give them the power to do the job. We cannot keep a tight rein and at the same time expect staff members to succeed.
Practicing the Stewardship of Power
Several steps are helpful in practicing the proper stewardship of power.
1. Discover the church’s center of power. Woe to us if we don’t know where power lies in a church. That may not always be evident. But rest assured, someone or some group possesses the power that runs that institution. Who actually holds the reins? What are their objectives? Are those in power willing to share it with others, or do they keep it for themselves? Only after locating the epicenter of authority can we help decide how power will be distributed in the church.
Our church holds a workshop on church administration each year. For several years, we inadvertently encouraged young pastors to attempt things they could not accomplish. The pattern went something like this: The young leaders return from the church administration workshop charged up with new ideas and fresh dreams. But when the harsh reality of the church’s vested interests, traditions, and power structure greets them at the door, their plans fizzle and their vision dies. Nothing they had envisioned will happen because certain members or committees are not willing to share power. The pastors, naturally frustrated, plunge into the center of the controversy, and their stress level mushrooms. The result, all too often, is clergy burnout.
Such a bleak scenario need not occur. Wisely and patiently discovering the epicenter of power will help open closed doors.
I came out of a denomination in which power was shared differently than it is in my present church. It was a polity established by a denomination. Many still are not ready to give up their old system of sharing power. As a result their growth is stymied.
People frequently call asking for the name of a dynamic young minister to serve their congregation. In many cases, I know that if a minister goes to their church, he will be handcuffed. Even the best managers will fail if their church will not share power.
After taking the time to locate the center of church power, the next step is to begin working with it.
2. Discuss the unmentionable. It is not easy to talk about power with a strong board or dominant members. Yet, it is best to raise the issue head-on. Though it may be threatening, we should begin with one-on-one discussions with individuals who wield power in the church.
I say “individuals” because power rarely resides in a group—not even in the official church board. Power usually resides in individuals.
The man who has funded a number of projects may be the dominant influence, for instance. Money can buy such power. If such a person dislikes an idea, the issue dies. It makes little difference how much time or effort a committee puts into a proposal if the “church boss” chooses to shoot it down. One powerful person can easily dominate a group.
To redeem the situation, I initiate discussions with the person or persons possessing power. Do they know their own influence? I attempt to discover what motivates these individuals. What do they intend to do with their power? What are their objectives?
Next I try to disciple these individuals on the proper use of power, helping them understand from a biblical perspective what their responsibility is with their power. If a pastor can help such individuals see the importance of the stewardship of power, the whole church is strengthened.
With one “church boss,” for example, I began by finding a way to have breakfast with him. I impressed upon him the amount of leadership he was exerting in the church, which, I continued, carried with it a great deal of power. He readily acknowledged that. I explained that this is a great trust from God, and that power could be used to bless or harm a congregation. By establishing a relationship in an informal setting and discussing forthrightly the issue of power, I helped this man recognize his role, and we learned to work together.
3. Ask for help in managing power. Not all pastors are equally gifted in managing power. Some find it easy; others struggle. Christian organizations begun by visionaries often have encountered trouble as they grew. The problem was not incapable leaders, but leaders who did not know they were incapable in administration.
Visionary leaders often need help from others gifted in management and administration. Even pastors with little talent for administration can survive and prosper if they let others help them develop expertise.
Or perhaps they can delegate administrative tasks to someone else. A staff member or lay volunteer can handle areas of administration on their behalf.
Peter Drucker, the management expert, once said that the minute you hire your first secretary, you have an organization. Learning to manage takes time and may require ministers to seek guidance. But it is time well spent. The survival of a church or personal ministry may depend upon it. Time invested now could mean a crisis avoided tomorrow.
4. Use power in a pastoral way. There are times when a minister’s power is to be used directly and forcefully, to uphold church doctrine or to be faithful to church policy. That’s why it’s entrusted to us. But even during such crises, power can be wielded with a pastoral touch.
In my first church, a small congregation of thirty-five families, there was one successful businessman who provided a large percentage of the church’s income. When things needed doing—painting, plumbing, repairs—the congregation would raise some of the money, and he would pay the rest. Everyone knew about this because he made sure they knew about it. Naturally, it gave him an enormous amount of power.
When I arrived at the church, I discovered six days before our quarterly Communion service that, although the congregation was served Communion in individual cups, this man and his family were served from a common cup. An elder would serve them separately from the rest of the congregation.
When I heard about this, I reacted strongly, “Wait a minute. This, of all times, is a time of unity. Why are we divided in our taking of Communion?” Because 1 was caught unawares, I went along with it that first Sunday.
Before the next Communion service, however, I went to the elders and explained why this procedure wasn’t good for this church. I discovered that the congregation had voted some time before to use individual cups, but the board had never enforced the policy with this family.
I then told them, point blank, “I am not going to serve this family Communion this way again. Furthermore, I think that you elders need to tell this family that it isn’t going to happen here again. I’d like someone to make a motion to support what the congregation has decided.” So they voted to affirm the congregation’s action. Then I said, “Now, who is going to go and tell these people?” Naturally, nobody wanted to go.
“Well,” I continued, “I will go if one of you will go with me. And I’ll do the speaking.” One of them agreed.
So we went. Here I was, a 25-year-old pastor, sitting across from a man of 60 in the middle of his magnificent and richly appointed house. The whole family was there: the man, his wife, a bachelor son, and a single daughter.
I told them that I understood the congregation had voted to take Communion from individual cups and that I thought it was important to be united in our practice. Therefore, we weren’t going to be using the common cup anymore in our church. As expected, I received a serious dressing down: “Who do you think you are to come and disturb things? This has been done for years. The common cup is more meaningful to us. You are wrong to take away this expression of our faith.”
I said, “Well, the board of elders unanimously voted to uphold the decision of the congregation, which was nearly unanimous to begin with, except for your family. Now we intend to put this policy into practice.”
“Then, we’ll have to leave the church,” the father said. I tried to keep my voice calm and matter-of-fact as I said, “And where would you like us to send your membership?”
Everything got quiet. No one had ever spoken to them like that before. This family did not believe the church could exist without them. When they realized, however, that I meant what I said, to the point of seeing them go, they said, “Let us pray about it. We’ll think about it.” So, that’s the way we left it.
All week I wondered what they would do, but they came back to church the next Sunday, and the Sundays following. The week before the next Communion, however, the man and his son showed up at the elders’ meeting. They came to protest, to ask if we would serve them in a common cup the next Sunday. We said we felt we needed to honor the decision of the congregation and to be unified in our practice. We would not serve them separately.
Then the man said, “Your decision presents a serious spiritual problem for my family. The biblical practice is to drink from a common cup. If we use individual cups, we will be held accountable by our Lord at the Day of Judgment.”
I wasn’t going to reverse the church’s decision, but in light of their concern, I suggested a way out. We would record on the books of the church that the church was responsible for this family using individual cups, that if there was any wrong in this practice, the church would be at fault, not them. And we as a board were willing to assume responsibility before the Lord for that. So we included in the minutes of that board meeting that this family was exonerated from any guilt in the matter.
Most of the congregation was aware of the dispute, of course, so the next Sunday, everything was tense. But we served everyone individual cups. The family took Communion with everyone else that Sunday and every time after that. The issue was settled.
Power, then, is a trust. At times it must be used forthrightly to carry out the will of Christ and his church. But good stewardship of power requires that we use it with tact and care.
Copyright © 1990 by Christianity Today