The phone rang, and Pastor Andy’s ministry at First Presbyterian began its predestined end.

The call was from the presbytery, the denominational board that oversees congregations and pastors within its jurisdiction. Andy was told that for several months a small faction of disgruntled members at his church had been airing their unhappiness in each other’s homes. When their frustrations hardened, they bypassed Andy and the session (the church board) and went straight to the presbytery.

Their charges? Andy hadn’t visited church members enough. And the visits he made were “unsatisfactory.” Andy also hadn’t given enough personal attention to a mentally disabled confirmand. And he had “made too many changes without going through the session.”

After its call to Andy, the presbytery alerted the committee on ministry (the subcommittee that oversees pastors), which quickly brought the two sides together in a series of meetings. But the denomination wielded as much power as a United Nations peacekeeper in Bosnia, and the meetings degenerated into carping and became more personal. Says Andy’s wife, Peggy: “One family complained that because I attended a Bible study on Monday evenings, Andy was forced to take care of our kids. Thus, he couldn’t be a minister to them when he had to be home babysitting.”

At one of the last meetings, a supporter of Andy, fed up with the ambiguous charges, demanded, “I would like to know exactly what the charge is against Pastor Andy.”

“He’s changed,” blurted the chief antagonist, “and we would like to go back to the way things were.”

Summer interrupted the proceedings, but as soon as vacations ended, the faction asked the session to convene a special congregational meeting. They demanded Andy’s future at the church be put to a vote. Divided, the session reluctantly agreed. Just days before the meeting, several members of the session colluded and made Andy an offer: “If you resign before the meeting, we’ll make sure your needs are met until you find another church.” Andy declined.

The Sunday of the vote, Andy preached to a congregation of unfamiliar faces. The faction had rustled up inactive members or members who had silently left the church during Andy’s tenure. Many of Andy’s supporters were new to the church and hadn’t yet become members and, consequently, couldn’t vote.

After the message, Andy closed in prayer and then in the ensuing vote lost his job. He was number five—the fifth pastor in a row from that church to be terminated or forced to resign.

“I thought I could break the cycle,” says Andy, but the cycle broke him.

Andy’s story is shocking, yet surprisingly common. A church with a history of abusing its pastors; an impotent denominational hierarchy; a small, but potent faction—these elements of his firing could fit the stories of many pastors who’ve been forced out. The names and places change, but the storyline remains the same; it transcends denominations and regions of the country.

In fact, being forced out—either officially terminated or unofficially forced to resign—seems more and more part of the career cycle of a North American pastor. A ground-breaking study of the pastors who read Leadership, Christianity Today, and Your Church magazines revealed that 22.8 percent of them had either been terminated or forced to resign! And one in four of those have had the experience more than once. Another statistic confirmed the high numbers: At their present church position, 34 percent of pastors said their predecessor had been forced out!

Why is the modern pastorate producing such a high body count?

THE HOT NEW NICHE

It is the best of times, it is the worst of times to be a pastor.

It is the best of times if you need information on how to lead a church. Books and magazines and seminars and software and audiotape series and fax networks and online services and retreat centers are legion. Parachurch groups like Focus on the Family and Promise Keepers have created pastoral ministry departments. Helping pastors pastor is a hot niche market.

But it may be the worst of times to lead a church. Certainly the cultural upheaval of the past thirty years contributes to the complexity of church leadership. The opening salvo of H.B. London and Neil Wiseman’s Pastors at Risk reads, “Contemporary pastors are caught in frightening spiritual and social tornadoes which are now raging through home, church, community, and culture.”

One clear result is increased expectations. In Today’s Pastors, George Barna writes, “Many pastors are doomed from the day they join a congregation because the congregation’s expectations are unachievable by any human being.”

Some place blame on the seminaries. The Murdock Charitable Trust corporation reviewed graduate theological education in the Pacific Northwest and concluded that most seminaries still train pastors for the small-town churches of thirty years ago. Graduates leave without the skills to handle the complex social and organizational issues of the nineties.

But pastors themselves have absorbed hard shots. In a recent interview with Leadership, Barna said, “It may well be that a large number of pastors are not gifted as leaders, will never be leaders, were never called to be leaders. They pursued a career model that wrongly valued being a senior pastor as its highest end.” Barna is staking the second half of his career on training church leaders.

In Leadership‘s study, however, pastors indicated that conflicting visions for the church was their greatest source of tension and the top reason they were terminated or forced to resign. It is one of the most vexing issues of modern ministry: Who will control the direction of the church? This question lies just beneath the surface of the worship-style debate (the second most common source of tension for pastors in our survey) and the issue of money (the third).

But why so many forced exits? Our study revealed three contributing—and surprising—factors.

THE REPEAT-OFFENDER CHURCH

According to the survey, 62 percent of forced-out pastors said the church that forced them out had done it before. Of those who said their church had pushed out their predecessors, 41 percent indicated the church had done it more than twice. The conclusion seems self-evident: churches that force out their pastor will likely do it again.

What animates a repeat-offender church is the power of a few. Forty-three percent of forced-out pastors said a “faction” pushed them out, and 71 percent of those indicated that the “faction” forcing them out numbered ten or less. These tiny wolfpacks often horde the inside information. Only 20 percent of pastors who were forced out said the real reason for their leaving was made known to the entire congregation.

Perhaps what’s most troubling is the inability or unwillingness of denominations to identify and work with the repeat-offender church. One issue is the tightrope walked by the denominational supervisors of pastors, what some have called “the pastor’s pastor.” Even in more structured denominations, churches often are autonomous. “In the Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod,” says district president John Heins, “congregations are autonomous, but pastors are not.” The district president thus has a dual role: to superintend pastors and churches.

In varying degrees, that’s true in most denominations. In Southern Baptist circles, the director of missions may intervene in a pastor-church conflict, but only at the invitation of the church. In fact, for a director of missions to try to discipline a Southern Baptist congregation would be like an employee trying to discipline a boss! “In Southern Baptist life, the director of missions has no rights,” says Norris Smith, growth consultant for the Southern Baptist Convention, “in moving a congregation toward discipline.”

With no real clout, denominational leaders often stand by and watch a percentage of their churches destroy pastor after pastor. “It’s very difficult to change a [repeat-offender] church,” says Norris Smith. “If the change comes about, usually there’s been a split.”

THE PASTOR’S PASTOR DILEMMA

Pastors in nondenominational churches have always had to rely solely on their personal network. Even those who join loose associations of like-minded pastors go it alone: The association provides information and a friend or two, but it will not help locate a new position or mediate a bad situation.

Pastors in most denominations, however, have the benefit of a supervisor when trouble breaks out or they decide to move to a new church. But our study revealed an ambivalence among pastors toward their superiors. Of forced-out pastors, 40 percent indicated their denominational supervisor was “not very” or “not at all” supportive in their forced-exit experience while 41 percent said they were supportive. Pastors unhappy with the support of their superiors checked didn’t understand the real issues as their chief reason why.

Fueling the frustration seems to be a general misperception of the role of the supervisor. When pastor and church lock horns, the collegial relationship between pastor and denominational supervisor mutates. Most denominational supervisors once were pastors, so many can empathize with an embattled pastor. But empathy goes only so far.

“There was a day,” says John Esau, conference minister for the General Mennonite Conference, “in which we talked about the conference minister as the pastor to pastors, which built in an assumption that the conference minister was always on the pastor’s side. The reality is that pastors come and go, and churches stay.” Esau defines the conference minister as someone who stands between congregation and pastor.

Missouri-Synod Lutheran district president John Heins admits that when pastor and church collide, he assumes the best of the congregation: “Depending on their history, I must usually come down on the side of the congregation because it’s harder for a congregation to mess up with a pastor than it is for a pastor to mess up with a congregation.”

Put bluntly, it’s always easier to move the pastor than to discipline the church.

The pastor-supervisor relationship is only more muddied by the fact that the supervisor controls the destiny of each pastor under his or her care. In most denominations, churches expect the denominational supervisor to provide a list of potential candidates. How much information about candidates should a denominational superior share with churches? Whose name goes on the list?

It’s no wonder, then, that in our study 18 percent of pastors who had seen a superior about a conflict believed their supervisor had used that information to hinder their future in ministry. In reality, then, when conflict erupts, are not denominational pastors as much on their own as nondenominational pastors?

For these reasons, cynicism about supervisors is rampant among clergy. “Denominational supervisors are at their best,” said one pastor, “when you don’t need them.” Another said, “The problem is that congregations give per capita; pastors don’t.”

UNQUESTIONING CANDIDATES

But pastors also have to shoulder some responsibility for forced exits. Over half (53 percent) of forced-out pastors indicated that before accepting the call, they didn’t ask adequate questions of the church that pushed them out. The top area that forced-out pastors investigated was, naturally, their salary and benefits. The last on the list was former conflicts. But when we asked forced-out pastors about the areas they wished they had investigated more fully, the list was reversed: former conflicts was at the top of the list and my salary and benefits was dead last.

It’s not just what you ask but whom you ask. When candidating at the church that forced them out, pastors talked to the search committee, board members, and a denominational supervisor. But forced-out pastors wished they had contacted former pastors, other local pastors, and members of the congregation.

Andy discovered too late that his church had fired or forced to resign its previous four pastors. He happened upon the information while being railroaded out. By then the train had already built a full head of steam.

Is it surprising, then, why repeat-offender churches have a ready supply of pastors? It is, to put it crassly, a buyer’s market; supply exceeds demand. “In our [Southern Baptist] convention,” says Norris Smith, “we have more pastors than we have churches. That makes it difficult to get relocated.”

Terminations, like conflict, are inevitable. And some pastors need to be fired; churches should not have to tolerate sexual misconduct, heresy, financial malfeasance, or chronic incompetence.

But according to Leadership‘s research, such pastors represent a slim minority. The vast majority are men and women who have answered God’s call and are gifted for ministry. But they are men and women who, even with a sure call, the right gifts, and the best intentions, often fail. And they will need, as the final word from their churches and their denominations, a large measure of grace.

A MODEST PROPOSAL FOR REFORM

Of pastors who said their predecessor had been forced out, 37 percent believed the experience caused their predecessor to leave ministry for good. Losing a third of forced-out pastors is too many. In light of the dramatic survey results, we set forth a modest proposal for reform:

A modest proposal for denominations. Few denominations keep track of terminations, and no denomination we know of tracks the much larger, grayer area of forced resignations. Often only the movement of pastors—how many pastors leave churches in a given year—is monitored.

Admittedly, trying to nail down the exact reason why a pastor leaves a church is complicated. Often there is not one clear reason or no one is giving the real reason or the reason depends on which party you believe. But only 6 percent of pastors surveyed indicted they had been officially terminated—the easiest statistic to track. Most of those forced out—19 percent—indicated they felt forced to resign. (Some pastors had been forced to resign and terminated, so the combined tally came to 22.8 percent.) Denominations need to keep better records and track why their pastors move.

Better records would clearly identify repeat-offender churches. We also suggest denominations create policies (or enforce policies already in place) to work with such churches. Most denominations discipline pastors who commit adultery or embezzle money. Why shouldn’t they discipline churches that slander or abuse pastors?

No one knows what discipline for a church looks like. Could it mean a heart-to-heart talk with the church’s key lay leaders? Training in conflict resolution for the congregation? A requirement that the next pastor be given a contract for at least, say, three years? Perhaps even a three-strikes-and-you’re-out policy—fire three pastors and be in danger of losing denominational standing?

Joel Pavia, a district superintendent with the Assembly of God, became exasperated with one church that repeatedly battered its pastors. When conflict happened again, he sent a representative to the congregation with a hard message: “This time, I’m supporting the pastor in the conflict. He’s not leaving. This has been going on too long.” Pavia made good on his word, locking arms with the pastor until the clan responsible for most of the carnage left.

Another suggestion is for denominations to encourage churches to provide forced-out pastors with a standard severance package worth six months of salary. In our study, only 41 percent of forced-out pastors received a severance package; the average package equaled a little over three month’s salary. Yet only 41 percent of pastors found another position in three months or less. And only 32 percent of pastors said that if they were suddenly forced out of their present positions, they could survive without a paycheck for four months or more.

Not to care economically for forced-out pastors, it seems, is to muzzle the ox when it is on its knees. Plus, larger severance packages might cause churches to pursue reconciliation rather than termination.

A modest proposal for pastors. The onus is on the pastor to do the necessary spadework before accepting a call. Twenty percent of pastors filling out our survey believe that during the candidating process their church was not honest about its history and existing areas of conflict. Pastors must approach the candidating process differently.

In general, candidates need the skills of an investigative reporter and the care of a family physician. It’s not that most search committees lie; it’s just that they’re not reflective enough or able to offer complete answers. To research the story of a church requires a gentle but persistent probing.

At the very least, candidates should call one or more of the church’s previous pastors. Granted, former pastors may have an ax to grind, but if two or three previous pastors grind the same ax, there’s an issue that needs to be chopped down. Local pastors may be another source of information. If a church has a preacher-killer reputation, most likely they’ve heard of it.

In addition, pastors must take preventive steps for when life and ministry become difficult. For those in denominations, one step might be to initiate a relationship with the denominational supervisor before you need him or her. It’s helpful to keep in mind, though, that supervisors are more like referees than personal trainers; they officiate for both sides.

And most denominational supervisors referee an entire league of congregations and pastors. Too often superiors hear only the bad news. By the time the news arrives, often it’s too late. Denominational supervisors I called spoke with one voice: “Pastors need to call us earlier, before the conflict gets out of hand.”

“When there is stress in a pastor’s life,” says Ken Working, an executive presbyter with the Presbyterian Church (USA), “I often feel frustrated that I couldn’t have heard about it earlier.”

But beyond the denomination, pastors need to deepen their ties with an old seminary buddy or a local pastor who, when conflict erupts, can be their unequivocal loyalist. One terminated pastor told me, “One thing that saved my life when I was fired was a friendship with an area pastor.” The friendship also led to an interim position. These deep-water relationships never seem to develop naturally; they demand intention. For pastors flying solo, without a denomination, this is even more critical.

Prevention may also include compiling a list of consultants specializing in mediation (see “Who Ya Gonna Call?” on page 50). By the time pastors in conflict decide they need a consultant, often it’s too late; the conflict has matured into a full-blown crisis.

Finally, pastors need to develop better skills at handling conflict. In our study, pastors rated communication, leadership, and management as their top three skills. But diplomacy/handling conflict ranked only fifth.

One pastor told me that in hindsight, his firing was one of the best things that had happened to his ministry. “It taught me,” he said, “not to make everything on my agenda an issue of right or wrong.” That’s a painful lesson in diplomacy. The cliche, “It all comes back to relationships,” is hard to dismiss.

FINAL REDEMPTION

Forced-out pastors said the experience negatively affected their “family’s ability to trust the established church” (59 percent) and their “confidence as a pastoral leader” (58 percent). But what Satan means for ill, God can redeem for good. Forced-out pastors also said the experience positively affected their faith (66 percent), their prayer life (65 percent), their ability to be a loving spouse (57 percent), and their sense of call (48 percent).

It certainly affected the Osgood family.

Jeff and Cathy accepted the call to pastor a Southern Baptist congregation and then accepted the pulpit committee’s recommendation to use a certain real estate agent. Within days, the agent had located their five-member family a small three-bedroom ranch on the outskirts of the city. It seemed too good to be true—the right price in the right place.

As soon as they moved in, Jeff and Cathy discovered the well pumped only three gallons per hour; it needed to pump three gallons per minute. The real estate agent claimed ignorance. “It passed inspection,” she said.

The first two months, the Osgood family took showers at the church and scooped five-gallon buckets of water from their above-ground pool to flush the toilets. Then they rented for $75 a week a water buffalo—a truck with a thousand-gallon tank on the back—and parked it in their garage. They tried drilling a new well, but the only result was more debt.

The real estate agent finally confessed to Jeff that she had lied and manipulated the closing documents to pass at the bank. But her boss refused to make things right, so Jeff sued the real estate company. He owned a house he couldn’t sell. Bills were mounting.

It’s hard to know what started the rumblings at the church, but certainly Jeff’s lawsuit didn’t help—especially since he was suing the company of the woman recommended by the pulpit committee. But it could also have been his ambitious vision for outreach. The church had never drawn people from its neighborhood, so Jeff challenged the leadership to target the neighbors.

As new people began attending the church, the classic “old versus new” power struggle began. One evening, the chairman of the deacons invited Jeff to his house and said, “I just want you to know I do not support your leadership and am working to get you out.” Then the money began to dry up; new people just didn’t give as much as the old. Some of Jeff’s supporters began to leave, saying, “We don’t have the stomach for a church fight.”

Then the church cut Jeff’s salary in half. (After he resigned, Jeff found out that someone had been siphoning off part of the offerings into a secret church account, making it appear as if there were less money.)

Jeff might have resigned sooner, but he owned a house he couldn’t sell. He had been able to build a cistern on the property, but he was still embroiled in the lawsuit and in debt because of it. But when his salary was halved, he had to look elsewhere. Meanwhile, Cathy reactivated her nursing credentials and went back to work. Finally, four years after the debacle began, things fell into place: They accepted a call to another church, sold their house, and settled the lawsuit out of court.

The day the movers came, Jeff and Cathy took their three children to the backyard and thanked God for the church they were leaving and for the new opportunity to serve God. They prayed they wouldn’t be bitter. And they aren’t.

“The wisdom we gained from the experience,” says Jeff, “cannot be learned from a textbook. You have to go through it.”

 The church Jeff now pastors has embraced his family and has extended to them God’s grace and healing. Recently Jeff and Cathy celebrated their eighteenth wedding anniversary. They were able to smile about the past.

“If you had known some of the things we would go through,” Jeff asked, “would you have married me?”

“Yeah,” Cathy replied, “I still would have married you. But it has been interesting.”

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Would you like to talk with Dave about why pastors are forced out? He will lead a live, online discussion on Monday, March 4, at 8:00 p.m. (Central Time). In America Online, type the keywords “CO Live.” To enroll in Christianity Online, call 1-800-413-9747, ext. 174021.

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David Goetz is associate editor of Leadership. Churches that force out their pastor will likely do it again.

Areas forced-out pastors investigated before accepting position:

Salary and benefits (81 percent)

Church’s expectations (57 percent)

Board’s vision for church (51 percent)

Areas they wished they had investigated:

Former conflicts (45 percent)

Church’s expectations (43 percent)

Board’s vision for church (30 percent)

The people forced-out pastors talked to before accepting the position:

Search committee (61 percent)

Board members (51 percent)

Denominational supervisor (51 percent)

People they wished they had talked to:

Former pastors (52 percent)

Other local pastors (43 percent)

Member(s) of congregation (32 percent)

Top positive effects of forced exits on pastors:

A growing, vibrant faith (66 percent)

Prayer life (65 percent)

Ability to be a loving spouse (57 percent)

Sense of call (48 percent)

Top negative effects of forced exits:

Family’s ability to trust established church (59 percent)

Confidence as a pastoral leader (58 percent)

Ability to trust people (56 percent)

Spouse’s emotional health (54 percent)

1996 Christianity Today/LEADERSHIP Journal