My wife and I moved from a youth pastorate in Tucson, Arizona, to a senior pastorate on the Canadian prairies just in time for winter. Here the high temperature on Valentine’s Day can reach a romantic 30 below. But the weather wasn’t nearly as chilly as the reception we received at our new church.
One month into our new ministry, “Marlene” called my wife, furious that JoLynn had used the word “intimacy” during a private marriage counseling session. (The fact that Marlene called on behalf of another offended woman should have warned us how bad things were about to become.)
“We don’t talk about those things up here,” Marlene said. “I knew we shouldn’t have hired an American! You’re all the same. I’ve been to California, you know. They do that kind of stuff in the streets!”
Amazing, I thought. I grew up in California. Guess I’ve driven down the wrong streets!
Marlene was only the first. In my inaugural year at Elim Chapel, I was criticized for using the wrong pulpit and sitting in the wrong pew. My preaching was called “shallow,” my wife “ungifted,” and the services “juvenile.” Our worship was described in a letter as “absolute buffoonery, causing one to wonder if the person responsible isn’t experiencing a delayed adolescence, rather than the expected maturity of a church leader.”
Someone even told me to go back to youth ministry, “where you belong.” It started to sound like good advice. Junior highers behaved better than this.
At first, the criticism shook me. Am I a lousy preacher? Am I that bad of a senior pastor?
Two weeks before our annual meeting, a new flurry of letters went to the board and membership alike, a clear campaign to oust the new pastor. But in those two weeks, I made a discovery about our church’s history that would forever change our future. This stream of criticism, slander, and divisiveness had been sounded before. The last pastor left in the midst of it, and the one before him because of it.
The similarity of the attacks, years apart, was chilling. This was entrenched sin.
If something wasn’t done to change our church’s critical spirit, I would soon become the next victim.
History was out to get me On one particularly bleak day before the church-wide meeting, I picked up a two-inch-thick notebook an elder had given me. More letters critical of the pastor, but in these I was not the target. These missals were aimed a previous pastor, Matt. The similarity of the attacks on the two of us, years apart, was chilling.
Earlier I read these charges against me: “One is staggered to consider the negative impact our church’s inferior teaching must have on the spiritually immature. It is a sad indication of the board of elders’ collective blindness when they allow this to continue.” Ouch.
Now I found an old letter saying about Matt, “Our tradition of in-depth Bible exposition is neglected, and we are starving for sound doctrine. Our pastor is inept in handling the Word of God. If you as the board continue to support him as our pastor, then you, too, will be held accountable for the careless handling of the Word in our pulpit.”
Was Matt as inept as I was? I doubt it. Matt taught expository preaching at Dallas Theological Seminary.
They wrote of me, “Who will engender reconciliation when those responsible for the health of the flock are causing the sickness? You are dismembering the body of Christ.”
They wrote of Matt, “The pastor must ultimately assume the responsibility for the disunity in the church. I find it difficult to see how the church can heal as long as Matt is our pastor.”
Oddly, though the criticisms were identical—preaching, unity, qualifications, and worship—the authors of the letters were different. Whatever strain had infected the critics of the past, it had found new hosts in their modern counterparts.
And when I read how these members, past and present, viewed their vicious actions, I knew our problems were getting worse.
In Matt’s day they wrote, “Through conversations we have identified with each other and have chosen to openly present a number of concerns.” And, “Word has gotten back to me that I am guilty of gossip in your eyes. Is anyone who speaks with fellow believers about sincere concerns regarded as a gossip?”
In my batch of letters they wrote, “We have been and will continue to be open about our convictions. While we do not court dissension, we are willing to share our concerns whenever asked. We will also make available a copy of this letter to anyone who wishes to know our position in detail. It is our right to share our concerns with whomever we feel needs to know.”
This was entrenched sin. It was time to confront it.
Airing it out Throughout the first year, the elder board was supportive of me. They hoped I would be able to implement the changes of vision and mission they had begun. And when the attacks came, they stood with me.
One elder even laughed out loud when a disgruntled member said to me, “I know you don’t like to preach. That’s why we keep having all these baptisms!”
Now, however, I needed to count on their support.
I remembered an event from Tucson. Our interim pastor had received letters attacking his family and ministry. With the board’s permission, one of the associate pastors preached for him the following Sunday and read some of the trash that was coming to the board and his family. That day, light drove out the darkness. Sin exposed is ugly, and those on the fence no longer wanted a part in it.
I asked the board for permission to do the same. They instructed me to wait until after the service, rather than making it part of the sermon.
When my sermon ended and we sang the final hymn, I was scared. But I got up and said, “The leadership of Elim Chapel would like to ask for your help. It’s hard to know how much to share as a leader, but if we don’t let you know what’s going on, the grumbling will never stop.
“This year we’ve had more baptisms, decisions for salvation, and new members than any in our records. Isn’t that God’s work? But the more potential we have, the more Satan will try to stop us. Difficult communication has come in to us. Someone wrote, ‘One half of our board is unqualified for ministry.’ I want you to know I’ve been on the board of three churches and none has had men of more integrity than Elim has. 1 Timothy 5:19-20 says, ‘Do not entertain an accusation against an elder unless it is brought by two or three witnesses. Those who sin are to be rebuked publicly, so that the others may take warning.’
“This week a letter came into the office, and, unfortunately, went out to others in the congregation. It is vicious. I am accused of being a pastor who ‘reads little more than the Internet and leads at considerable expense of biblical truth.’ It goes on to say, ‘We believe the pulpit committee has made a critical error by calling Dan; we do not have confidence in a board that supports a pastor who, among other things, does not teach with integrity, insight, or authority.’
“This is not how the body of Christ comes together to know what to do!
“Another letter has been distributed questioning my wife: ‘The congregation was told before the new pastor was chosen that his wife possessed skills that would be an asset to the church—we have not yet seen them exhibited in this church.’
“That is over the line. Believers do not do this! There is a stronghold here. And it is wicked.
“Some said we’re going to split at the next annual meeting, as this church has done in the past. But I don’t think so. Don’t be disheartened. Don’t lose hope. I can’t let a few people attacking my family take my eyes off what God is doing here; I hope you won’t either.”
I closed by reminding those present that the church’s leadership was asking for their help. We asked them to stay and pray. For 30 minutes, almost everyone stayed in prayer. Only a few, some I knew as the authors of the letters, got up and left. One left whistling.
At the annual meeting, many people came in support of the board and me. One woman stood at an open microphone and said, “This church and its leadership are moving. We support them. You can move with us, or move out of the way!”
For the first time, the vocal dissenters saw how small their group was. Many of them left the church. But the work of cleansing and renewal was far from done. The church had split before, only to find new dissenters arise. Then it split again, and again new critics. What would stop the pattern from repeating itself once more?
Clean out our crud Three months before that annual meeting, two children skipped Sunday school to start three fires in our education wing. Ten hours later, the ancient four-story brick building had crumbled and sunk into a pit of water, muck, mud, and ash that used to be our basement.
At a leadership retreat two weeks after the fire, someone said, “That hole they are digging out from our burnt building is how I see our church. We need to clean out our spiritual crud before we rebuild.”
Everyone agreed.
Our church had “spiritual crud in the basement” that was giving seed to a diabolical spirit of criticism. Even before the letters confirmed it, our leaders recognized the church had been repeating the same sins for years. This was no longer a fight over the pastor, it was a whole church issue.
Now, after the annual meeting, our leadership began reading on breaking habitual sin. Over the next year, we studied Neil Anderson’s Setting Your Church Free and Steps to Freedom, and learned that this sin is a generational problem. Scott Peck, in People of the Lie, showed us that evil was operating in our church. The whistler and his followers gave voice to the attacks, but the demons had been busy here years before.
Our leaders felt freedom in these discoveries, but we recognized that the congregation still needed some kind of cleansing and healing event that would signal a new beginning. We began planning an “assembly of renewal” that would take place on Maundy Thursday, 15 months after we first confronted our church’s sin of divisive criticism.
Let the healing begin For the assembly we asked Matt and his wife, as well as other previous pastors, to attend. We organized flights and lodging and meals. We invited those who had left the congregation, including the pastor of the church that was started after an earlier split.
We wanted everyone who was humble and repentant and everyone who had been hurt to come in a spirit of reconciliation.
The service itself consisted of corporate prayer and commitment to renewal. We worshiped in song and silence. The current staff and elders, even the former pastors, stood and confessed sins that had contributed to our painful past.
We also included a time for people to encourage others for anything they had endured. The encouragement to past leaders was overwhelming.
Then a respected leader from a parachurch organization led us all in Communion. For the first time since coming to Elim, I could feel the congregation participating not just in the celebration of the Lord’s Supper, but in spiritual communion.
Finally, the service was closed by Pastor Matt. The church had split during his tenure, and his participation at the final stage demonstrated our new commitment to unity. His benediction was unforgettable.
Our assembly of renewal happened three years ago. Both physically and spiritually, it was worth the price to “dig out the old crud” and start anew. We have discovered new roads for impact in the community, I’ve discovered new confidence in preaching, and the change in our congregation has been a testimony to other churches around us.
But the assembly alone did not turn us around. It was a God thing. It was a prayer thing. It was a necessary thing. For our church, it was a rebirth.
Dan Cooley is pastor of Elim Chapel in Winnipeg, Manitoba.
Planning an Assembly of Renewal by Dan CooleyHere’s what we learned in the process:
- Explain, explain, explain. Let everyone know what this repentance service is, and why it is so important. Mention in a couple of sermons and the church newsletter is not enough.
- Invite the unrepentant to stay home. This is time for renewal, not rehashing of past complaints.
- Leaders must confess first. We confessed gossiping, too, and lack of discipline. Our church knows these will not be tolerated in the future.
- Vary the prayers: corporate, individual, written, spontaneous. And allow space for silence. God works in the silences, too.
- Ask an outsider to guide the forgiveness section. It is better accepted coming from a nonpartisan leader.
- Make time for restoration and encouragement. The individuals present need healing for all they’ve endured. Allow plenty of time for people to meet one-on-one to ask forgiveness and encourage the wounded.
- Wash feet. Another congregation asked us to lead their assembly, and this humble ministry was a splashing success.
Copyright © 2004 by the author or Christianity Today/Leadership Journal. Click here for reprint information on Leadership Journal.
