It is a fact of Christian experience that life is a series of troughs and peaks. In his efforts to get permanent possession of a soul, God relies on the troughs more than the peaks. And some of his special favorites have gone through longer and deeper troughs than anyone else.
Peter Marshall
Are dragons, like the poor, always to be with us? Veteran minister Alan Redpath was once quoted as saying, “If you’re a Christian pastor, you’re always in a crisis — either in the middle of one, coming out of one, or going into one.”
Perhaps contentiousness and factions in the church are an inevitable consequence of original sin. But inevitable or not, they disgusted the apostle Paul, who wrote with bitter sarcasm, “No doubt there have to be differences among you to show which of you have God’s approval” (1 Cor. 11:19). A few verses later, his sarcasm set aside, he expresses his feelings directly: “Shall I praise you for this? Certainly not!”
Despite our best efforts, the problems of contentious people are not quickly solved. Tensions can linger in limbo, no resolution in sight. Persistent resistance, nay-saying, and second-guessing seem to be the twentieth-century Western world’s equivalent to persecution — a continuing threat to the health and growth of the church.
Pastors dealing with dragons must learn to deal with unresolved situations — some temporarily until the dragon is tamed, appeased, or driven off, some indefinitely until we’re called to another church, or perhaps until retirement or death.
Pastors have developed a variety of coping strategies to deal with extended periods of frustration.
One writes letters to himself, describing his joys and especially his anxieties. Then he seals them in an envelope and files them unopened, symbolizing his mentally putting them aside.
Another has a continuing circular correspondence with three old seminary classmates. They keep one another current on church happenings, write about seemingly unsolvable situations, and describe the latest dragons. “Most of the time,” he says, “we’re helping each other answer the question ‘Am I crazy, or is everyone else?'”
Many seek out another pastor as a prayer partner to evaluate predicaments and encourage each other to persevere.
Besides these and other specific coping techniques, survivors of the dragon wars offer three broader suggestions to those facing the mental anguish of unrelenting opposition.
Give It Time
Time can bring healing. For new pastors, it also often brings an increasing ability to handle dragons.
When Doug and Joan van Arndt accepted the pastorate of a small-town church in Ohio, they didn’t expect it to be a cross-cultural experience, but it was. Doug had grown up in a small-town parsonage and felt comfortable with people in small towns, or so he thought. But he hadn’t realized that four years of college and three years of seminary, all in metropolitan areas, had changed his tastes in music, reading material, and conversation.
Relationships were the toughest adjustment. The people didn’t seem to want a close friendship with the pastor or his family.
“I’d forgotten how people assume a pastor’s family is different,” he says. “They saw the pastor as a hired hand to maintain the church and perform the services. We felt frozen out of normal friendships.”
Their only friends were from the town league basketball team Doug joined and a couple of young mothers Joan met at PTA. None of them were Christians.
Most of the people in the church had been there for years. They knew one another’s grandparents and grandchildren. The van Arndts were the youngest family in the congregation, and thus, not only were there educational and cultural gaps but an age gap, too.
Inevitably clashes came over Doug’s leadership. His ideas for creative worship were dismissed, his proposal for a cooperative Easter sunrise service with the other churches in town was quashed, and his sermons were criticized — not enough evangelistic invitations, the board said.
“Why?” asked Doug. “I’ve spoken personally with everyone in the congregation, and they’ve all accepted Christ.”
“But it warms my heart to hear salvation messages,” said the board chairman.
When one older woman criticized Doug publicly in a business meeting for planning a camping trip with the five church youth, Doug asked the church board to speak with her privately in his defense. They refused.
“Mabel was here before you came, and she’ll be here after you’re gone,” one board member replied.
“This is a moving ship,” said another. “As long as you do your job and stay away from the steering wheel, you won’t have any problems with Mabel or anyone else.”
After a year the church voted, for financial reasons, not to raise the pastor’s salary. Before the vote, with both Doug and Joan sitting in the meeting, one man stood to say, “We don’t need to up the salary. If this isn’t enough for the current pastor, we can always get another one to come for even less.”
Several months later, Joan broke her leg on the basement stairs. While she was in the hospital, three people came to visit — none from the church. The church ladies sent flowers and a card, but no one came in person.
Doug and Joan were so discouraged they began looking for another church. Doug mailed his resume to three different placement services and his denomination, but no calls came. He contacted one church directly, a congregation of 125 with a pastoral vacancy, and discovered eighteen candidates had applied ahead of him.
Out of a lack of other options, Doug and Joan stayed at the church and endured their frustration. Now, four years later, they’re glad they did.
Only now are they finally beginning to feel accepted, though Doug still says he has to get his strokes from outside interests — basketball, an architecture class at a nearby college, community theater. He’s starting to see some cohesiveness develop and spiritual growth take place in the Sunday night home Bible study he and Joan lead.
Joan is still not close to any of the ladies, and when she visits college friends and experiences the warmth of those friendships, it’s hard to come back to the cool atmosphere at the church. But she too is seeing a significant ministry begin with some young families in town. None of them attend their church … yet. But Joan senses they’re open to the gospel, and she enjoys sharing her life with them.
What can pastors do when they find themselves frozen out? Or in other situations where dragons gain control, how can you break the impasse?
Sometimes time is the only solution — time for new members who aren’t bound by the past to help change the spirit of the church, time for certain board members’ terms to expire, time for people to understand where the pastor is going and develop enough trust to follow. Pastors report four to eight years are often necessary before people begin to accept them.
“I remember clearly when one gentleman was giving me fits early in my ministry,” says a pastor in Tennessee. “One woman said about him, ‘I don’t think he’s right, but he’s been a friend for so long.’ Well, I had to stay around long enough to be her friend, too. She has since learned to trust me, and she’s voted against the gentleman and for me, but it took me eight years to earn that loyalty.”
What do we do while waiting for a thaw? Blindly support the status quo? No, we have to stay consistent with our vision for the church even if we lose the decisions. But it helps to learn to lose graciously. “You continue to minister lovingly the way people expect,” says one pastor, “but they need to understand it’s not the way you want.”
Though they are not pawns of the dragons, new pastors recognize that a majority of the people sometimes go along with the dominant personalities because they’re familiar, and if the church is going along OK, people would rather not rock the boat. When the new pastor becomes as familiar, his stature rising to the level of the dominant personalities, he will normally develop enough of a following to make a difference.
In the meantime, the task is to minister to the needs people perceive. The perceived needs may not be the genuine ones, of course, but they are needs. By ministering to individuals, by preaching God’s Word, by loving the congregation even while losing some battles, we build credibility and contribute to the longevity of the church. And merely maintaining the church is not all bad, even if it isn’t everything we want it to be. There’s much value in preserving a church body.
Eventually, God willing, we will be able to make the strategic moves to strengthen the body.
Keep Perspective
In addition to patience, a larger perspective helps. Is the opposition really overwhelming? Or is it a vocal minority? Sometimes enlarging the frame of reference helps remind us that one mouth isn’t the whole church, one critic isn’t the end of our ministry, and even one church isn’t the whole body of Christ.
The familiar story of Elijah, hiding from the wrath of Jezebel, illustrates the difference between perception and reality. When he despaired that “I, even I only, am left; and they seek my life, to take it away” (KJV), God pointed out that there were still at least seven thousand nondragons in Israel.
On an even higher level, it also helps to remind ourselves of God’s sovereignty. Anyone who looks closely knows the church’s biggest problem is people — sullen, sassy, sometimes savage, always sinful people. But fortunately, while people are the problem, they are not the solution. God is.
If we lose some battles with dragons, what does it matter? It matters to us now, of course, but ultimately it doesn’t. Martin Luther, who knew something of church warfare, found comfort in Psalm 118:5-6 — “In my anguish I cried to the Lord, and he answered by setting me free. The Lord is with me; I will not be afraid. What can man do to me?”
Even when dragons grab a congregation, God is still in control, and he isn’t wringing his hands. At times the dragons may win — the ministry of a church may come to a standstill for a generation or more, an individual congregation may disintegrate — but dragons cannot destroy the church. Individual congregations are breakable; the church is not.
Painful though it may be, we must remember that our ministry, not even our church or denomination, is indispensable in God’s outworking of history. The church is indispensable, but Baptist or Roman Catholic or Presbyterian or Methodist or Nazarene or Episcopal churches are not. At one time, each of them did not exist, and it’s conceivable that they may vanish in the future. But God’s eternal decrees will remain.
Our job is to remain faithful to the two greatest commandments: to love God with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength, and to love even dragons as ourselves.
Learn Firm Forgiveness
Forgiveness seems like an unlikely tool to use before wars are completely resolved, but the effects of dragons can linger for years, sapping a church’s strength, unless the leaders demonstrate strong, visible forgiveness. Even in the midst of unresolved tensions, forgiveness must always be offered.
Walter Gregg didn’t suspect anything was wrong at first. All he knew was that when he and the church chairman authorized payments to the contractor who was building the new educational wing for Garrison Avenue Methodist, church treasurer Fred Akerman seemed reluctant to write the checks. Two weeks after one major payment was due, the check still hadn’t been written.
When the contractor called to complain, Walter phoned Fred, a stockbroker, at his office to ask what had happened to the check.
“I know we’re a little overdue, Pastor,” Fred said. “I’ll get it out. I’m running a bit behind.”
“We’ve got an obligation to pay bills on time,” said Walter. “It’s part of our Christian testimony.”
“OK, Pastor.”
The next thing Walter knew, the phone rang again and the board chairman was on the line. He said Fred had just called asking him to get the pastor off his back about the payments.
“He says the money is tied up in CDs,” the chairman explained. “If we withdraw it now, it’ll cost us an interest penalty. Any way we can hold off for two more weeks until the CDs mature?”
Walter pointed out the check was already two weeks overdue. He wondered silently why Fred hadn’t told him about the CDs, but in the end he agreed to ask the contractor for an extension.
The contractor wasn’t happy about the delay. He had just paid his workers, and this put him in a cash flow bind, but “since you’re a church, I guess we can hold things together for two more weeks. But we definitely need the money then.”
Two weeks later, on a Tuesday morning, Walter got a call from Everett Hinson, a church member and vice-president of the bank where the church kept its accounts.
“Walt, I think we’ve got a problem,” he said, his voice serious. “Fred Akerman and I need to talk with you. And you probably better get the board chairman in on this, too.”
Walter couldn’t imagine what had happened, but he called the chairman, and two hours later, the four men were seated around the table in Walter’s office. Everett began.
“Fred told me something today that I insisted he tell you immediately. Fred?”
Fred sat staring at the floor, and when he spoke, his voice slightly shook. “Two months ago, I heard about a great opportunity, a new company that was looking for investors. It was a sure bet. If I worked things right, I figured I could pay off the entire cost of the church’s construction. I took the $182,000 in the building fund and invested it in the company’s stock. It should have tripled in value within a couple months — we could have had half a million to pay off our construction. It was a terrible mistake. Yesterday I found out the company declared bankruptcy.”
Walter felt his stomach getting queasy. “How much did we lose?”
“We lost it all,” said Fred. “We may have a few hundred dollars from recent offerings in the building fund, but the $182,000 is gone. I’m sorry. It was bad judgment on my part.”
Bad judgment?! Walter wanted to scream. How dare you take the entire building fund without telling anyone and invest it in some shady deal? Do you know what you’ve done to us? We owe the contractor an overdue $100,000, we’ve got nothing to pay it with, and the building is barely half done. You’ve just crippled us.
Instead, Walter said nothing, groping for words. The room was silent. None of them had any answers.
Finally he said, “This is too much to digest right now. Let’s get the board together tonight, and in the meantime, let’s pray for wisdom and resiliency, and maybe a miracle.”
After Fred left, Walter got more details from Everett. Since building fund checks required two signatures, apparently Fred had been able to transfer funds to another church account that required only one. Everett had only heard about it that morning when Fred came in asking for a loan, intending to borrow money personally to reinvest and try to recover his losses. Everett eventually got the story out of him and demanded he tell the pastor right away.
“Even if he had made a killing on the market, how do we know he would have returned the money to the church?” Everett asked. “He sure was slick in the way he secretly juggled funds to get them under his sole control.”
Walter just shrugged. “We’re not judges of the man’s motives. Only God can do that.” But privately he shared Everett’s suspicions.
That night, Walter was amazed and pleased at the way the board responded. Yes, they were shocked. Yes, they were outraged. Yes, they were worried. But their focus was “What should Christians do in this situation?” Their immediate concern was the overdue $100,000. All twelve board members agreed to borrow money, cash in savings accounts, whatever it took to pay the contractor. They’d worry about the longer-range effects later.
They approached several other families in the church, and people responded, putting second mortgages on their homes, giving money saved for children’s education or their own retirement. By Friday, Walter gave the contractor a check for $100,000.
The second concern was what to do with Fred. The board agreed that he should step down immediately as treasurer. But they did not want to press legal charges against him.
“The church is not in the business of putting men in prison,” said one board member. “We’re in the redemptive business.”
Several people asked, “Is he sorry for what he did, or sorry he was caught?”
One man asked, “Is it true repentance if he doesn’t make restitution?” Fred had never even offered to try to repay the debt. But others responded, “Realistically, could he ever raise $180,000? Probably not.” The point was discussed at length.
In the end, however, the board identified three options: (1) skinning Fred alive and pressing legal charges, (2) officially forgiving but continuing to hold it against him personally, or (3) forgiving and taking steps to develop a normal relationship.
The board agreed that the church’s responsibility was to forgive, even though Fred’s repentance left something to be desired. They also authorized Walter to set up an appointment for Fred with a professional counselor to work on his admitted impulse control problem.
That Sunday Walter preached from Matthew 18:21-35 on the need to forgive if we are to be forgiven. Fred was sitting in the second row. Walter explained the situation, naming names and amounts, and pointing out that we would easily have forgiven someone taking and losing $100. In this situation, the amount was greater but the principle the same.
He also said, “If someone had done this at another church, been thrown out, and came to Garrison Avenue Methodist, we wouldn’t refuse to minister to that person. No, we’d say, ‘Here’s a person who needs our love.’ We don’t agree with what he’s done, but he needs the ministry of Christ, the ministry of restoration. If that is true, why can’t the church where the sin occurs provide it? We don’t want sinners feeling they have to leave and go to a different church. We are a family, and we’ll take care of our own.”
After the benediction, Walter felt a visible symbol of the forgiveness was needed, so he walked down to the second row and hugged Fred to signal the rest of the congregation that he was not to be ostracized.
In the weeks that followed, there was some grumbling among the congregation that Fred hadn’t done enough to make up for his act. The church, which had always been financially healthy, was now operating at a deficit, and since so many had given large gifts to make the building payment, the weekly offerings often did not cover operating expenses.
One man asked Walter, “Can you honestly say you don’t still have the urge to punch Fred in the nose?” Walter admitted he still felt anger.
“Isn’t that hypocrisy, then, to say you forgive him?”
“No, I don’t think so,” said Walter thoughtfully. “Is it hypocrisy when you feel like having an affair but resist the temptation because you know it’s not right? Yes, I’m tempted to refuse to forgive, but I know that Christians need to behave another way. Hypocrisy or integrity are determined by what you decide, not what you want.”
Now three years later, the church continues to struggle financially. The building project has been completed and paid for, but at great cost to the giving power of the congregation. The church has, however, learned what firm forgiveness is and what it requires.
All the dragons mentioned in this book can do significant harm — financially, emotionally, spiritually. They can foul the atmosphere and vitality of the church. But they must be forgiven. Not to forgive violates Christ’s command in Matthew 6:14-15 and puts our own ability to be forgiven in doubt.
But what is forgiveness, especially forgiving dragons? We must be clear what it is not.
Forgiveness is not giving in and agreeing with them. If we’re right (and hopefully we are), then the dragons are probably wrong! Forgiveness needn’t sacrifice truth.
Nor is forgiveness giving them our complete trust — they may not be trustworthy. Putting Fred in charge of another $180,000 of church funds would not have been forgiveness but foolishness.
Nor is forgiveness forgetting. Forgetting is more a result of a short memory or subconscious suppression, while forgiving is an act of the will, a difficult and disciplined decision to love the sinner while hating the sin. In fact, remembering dragons’ tendencies in the past, we are better able to love them and prevent the same mistakes in the future.
What then is forgiveness?
Forgiveness at bottom is a new beginning, starting at the present moment, the present situation. You don’t start where you wish you were but at the place where you are. Together you begin again.
The Greek word used in the Bible for forgiveness, aphiemi, literally means “to let go” — to let go of resentment, of anger, of all those feelings of revenge that are so tempting to hold close. Forgiveness is not leaving a dragon with something to live down but offering to live through the situation together.
True forgiveness, even when forgiving a dragon, is saying, “I don’t completely understand you. I can’t excuse what’s happened, and I can’t forget what you’ve done. But here’s my hand. I want to be your friend again. I still want to work with you. Let’s begin over.”
That offer must always be on the table, and frequently spoken, even while the dragon is refusing to reconcile. God is in the business of new beginnings. To be about our Father’s business means we must be, too.
Copyright © 1985 by Christianity Today
