Over the two decades I’ve served as a pastor, I have seen that not every pastor’s stated motive is their true motive. There are often hidden, selfish desires that obscure a clear focus on the kingdom. We all have the tendency to compare ourselves with others, and who better to measure ourselves against than the one who came before us at our church, or the one who whose ministry will follow ours?
I was fortunate in my early pastorates to have humble, Godly ministers serve before me. When I began my work at these churches, they pledged personal support for my leadership of the church they had led. Time proved that they meant it—each of them made periodic phone calls simply to encourage me and ask how things were going. They became men I could confide in and whose advice nearly always proved to be sound. I was never given any reason to question their motives. I never sensed any hidden agendas, but only pure concern for the church of the Lord Jesus Christ and for me personally. In my youth and pastoral naiveté I assumed it would always be this way.
Not always easy to connect
I made a move to another church, expecting the support I had known from former pastors. But, in my new setting my forerunner not only did not reach out to me but my attempts to reach out to him were met with evasiveness. I persisted, but to no avail. Time proved that this gentleman had bitterness toward the church I was now serving, which stemmed from his perception that he had been a failure in the eyes of the congregation. Sadly, it became clearer over time that my being a failure, at least in his eyes, would somehow achieve a sort of vindication for him. Presumably, at least in his heart and mind, he could say to the church “See, I told you so.” There was an unsettling coldness about his attitude that disturbed me deeply. I felt strangely alone trying to come to terms, for the first time, that the one who served before me seemed to be (quietly) rooting for my failure.
We all have the tendency to compare ourselves with others, and who better to measure ourselves against than the one who came before us at our church, or the one who whose ministry will follow ours?
Upon leaving that church later, I was resolute to not be like my predecessor. I actively sought to reach out to the new leader, but he was unwilling to return my supportive phone calls or emails. I didn’t understand why he (seemingly) did not want to start out his ministry with as much insight into the church as possible. He seemed to be putting himself, and the church, at a disadvantage. Wouldn’t he want as many tools in his toolbox as possible in order to minister with the greatest level of effectiveness? The most hurtful thing of all came when word got back to me that this man had actually been telling people that he, “Did not believe this church had ever heard the Word of God before.”
Those words hurt me, knowing as I did that I had meticulously prepared to preach week after week. Where did that come from? Was it pride?
Pictures in the hallway
Two of my pastorates have been at churches in excess of 100 years old. One of those churches had a hallway displaying pictures of former pastors with their years of service. When my picture was added to the lineup, I had two distinct thoughts.
I was simply a link in God’s chain of leaders at that church. Just as many had come before me, others would follow.
First, I felt a sense of unworthiness to be on the same wall with these ministers. Two of them had gone on to become well-known leaders in my denomination. A couple of the others were mentioned regularly (and positively) by the congregation.
Second, I noticed that there was quite a bit of space left in the hallway. There was plenty of room to hang pictures next to mine. It became a vivid illustration, and is a frequent reminder to me that I was simply a link in God’s chain of leaders at that church. Just as many had come before me, others would follow.
In the nasty world of presidential politics, our Presidents often bad-mouth their predecessor—especially if their predecessor was from a different political party. We expect this. One politician tries to puff up their image by deflating another. But sadly, there are times when a church calls a new pastor that it appears more like ushering in a new “administration” than it does a new “pastorate.”
Those who served before me, and those who will come after are fellow soldiers with me, fighting in the same war . One steps aside from his place on the front line and gives it to another—then it is later occupied by yet another. It’s like being teammates on the same squad. Many college and professional teams have some sort of ring of honor to remember the great players of the past. These former greats do not detract from the current players, but rather inspire and motivate them to play their best, and achieve the highest level of their potential.
Where is that kind of thinking in the church of the Lord Jesus?
Support for the servants
In the earliest days of my ministry, the church’s support for me was readily evident—the first email I received in my inbox was a warm note of welcome from the former pastor. In the months and years which followed we developed a great friendship which carries on to this day, even though I have long since left that church. My friend made clear from the outset that there were two things he cared about: the church of the Lord Jesus and my family.
Those who served before me, and those who will come after are fellow soldiers with me, fighting in the same war.
The support I often found with him carried me through some difficult periods which are inevitable in pastoral ministry. Instead of feeling alone, he helped me to realize he had gone through the same things with the same people, just a few years earlier. It provided enormous perspective.
If we believe we’re doing kingdom work, then shouldn’t we make every effort to use all assets available to us for building God’s kingdom? However, if inflated egos and self-promotion are our driving force then we usually choose to go it alone. Pride is an ugly thing for pastors. I have had to wrestle with whether I desired to impress the members of my church and denomination or if I desired to please Christ and hear him tell me, “Well done.”
At times, I have found it easy to forget I am a servant on an assignment from God. I am not building anything for myself. My work is on God’s behalf. E.M. Bounds, in his book The Essentials of Prayer, cites an illustration from John Newton (author of the beloved hymn Amazing Grace):
If two angels were to receive at the same moment a commission from God, one to go down and rule earth’s grandest empire, the other to go and sweep the streets of its meanest village, it would be a matter of entire indifference to each which service fell to his lot, the post of ruler or the post of scavenger; for the joy of the angels lies only in obedience to God’s will.
If inflated egos and self-promotion are our driving force then we usually choose to go it alone. Pride is an ugly thing for pastors.
While it is clearly evident we, as human beings, lack the capacity to be as narrowly focused and resolute as those two angels in Newton’s illustration, it is also true that we can strive much more earnestly to be focused completely on the advancement of God’s kingdom, and resist the subtle temptation to make our ministry about ourselves. We are not only in partnership with God, but we are in partnership with one another for the purpose of advancing his kingdom. Those before us, and those who will come after.
Allen Raynor is senior pastor of First Baptist Church in Rogers, Texas.
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