Personal Risks

He that loses by getting, had better lose than get.
William Penn1

One of the hardest categories of risk to define is personal risk. Since any significant decision has an element of personal interest, to single out some risks and call them personal is somewhat artificial.

There is, however, a nexus of risks whose primary cause and motivation is the leader’s personal interest. The most common of these deal with the ministerial career.

When a pastor moves from a successful pastorate to another church, the risk revolves around the fear of failure. A pastor who assumes a pastorate vacated by a preaching legend faces the prospect of failure in comparison with the predecessor. The pastor must weigh the risks of staying in the present church (stagnation or decline) versus the risks of going to the new one (failure by comparison).

Sometimes these crises are brought on by life-stage dynamics. British sociologist Elliot Jaques once examined the relationship between creativity and midlife in the lives of 310 painters, composers, writers, and other artists. He found a common crisis in the midthirties. For some — Dylan Thomas, Sinclair Lewis — it was a crisis of confidence from which they never recovered. For others — Beethoven, Goethe, Ibsen — it spurred risk taking that led to great creative breakthroughs.2

Daniel Levinson and his fellow researchers at Yale found the patterns of life a person sets in his thirties, when he is concentrating on “making it,” cannot last if he is to remain fulfilled afterwards. He must enlarge his circle, expand his interests, and seek new adventure, or he will wither on the vine.3

For pastors this may mean discovering God’s new challenge for ministry. Churches’ needs sometimes outgrow pastors’ ministerial gifts. Perhaps in its early years the church needs a planter, organizer, and personal evangelist. As the church matures, the discipler, nurturing the congregation, becomes the church’s crying need. Sometimes that calls for new leadership — and a difficult decision for pastor and board alike.

Or, sometimes pastors outgrow churches. New interests and skills lead the pastor to a larger responsibility, or the present church becomes routine, known, mastered, and the pastor needs a tough inner-city ministry to rescue or a new church to plant.

Other personal risks involve the pastor’s family. One associate pastor told about a crisis he faced when his arthritic wife became dependent upon prescription drugs and her personality changed. She became extremely critical of the senior pastor and his children. She was suspicious of the people in the church, almost to the point of paranoia. At the same time, their teenage son became an alcoholic. Under the weight of such family concerns, he felt compelled to resign and start over elsewhere. The risk of change is sometimes forced on you; other times you are left to make the hard decision yourself.

Or the risk may involve personal dimensions within the present church — a reluctance to replace an old friend who hasn’t attended a deacon meeting for a year, or turn down a family friend who wants to lead a Bible study but has no skills to do so. In most of these cases, the risks are simply theological, institutional, or interpersonal. But the minute a pastor’s close friend is the subject of the decision, the personal element threatens to dominate the decision. Danger lies in confusing a personal decision with an institutional or theological one; that makes identification of a personal decision extremely important. Several questions help:

1. Choose someone in the church for whom you have only pastoral regard. Then ask: If this person were the subject of the decision instead of my good friend, would I decide as I’m tempted to now?

2. Am I deciding this way simply because I’ve been attacked or criticized by the people involved? If this had taken place before the criticism occurred, how would I have decided then?

3. Am I making this decision simply because I know I can handle this person in a special way? That is, is there some trait in this person, rather than the facts of the case, that is determining the way I handle the issue?

4. Am I making this decision simply because of the power I hold as leader? Wielding power is perhaps the most insidious of personal considerations, because how power is used depends on the “theology” one holds of the pastoral role. If your theology of the pastoral role calls for a strong, authoritarian leader, then all decisions are in a sense more personal than if you view the pastor as first among equals.

The Principle: The Law of the Hippocratic Oath

Personal risks are guided by a principle followed by physicians: Heal, but in healing do no harm. A pastor taking a personal risk should be concerned, first and last, with doing no harm to the body of Christ or anyone in it.

King David writes in Psalm 69 of finding himself in deep trouble. He says he is “sinking in the miry depths where there is no foothold.” His enemies are without number; they “seek to destroy” him — for no good reason. Yet David’s concern is to not let his reaction to this unfair persecution adversely affect the body of Christ. “May those who hope in you not be disgraced because of me. O Lord, the Lord Almighty, may those who seek you not be put to shame because of me” (v. 6).

In personal decisions, whether to change churches or decide for or against a friend, the church leader must first of all “do no harm” to the ministry. The leader must constantly think, The body of Christ has a higher priority than my career; I cannot make decisions that will harm the ministry. If changes must be made, our survey showed, it is wise to make them slowly, surely, with preparation, restraint, and prayer — even when the circumstances have been unfair or you have been foully treated.

In most cases hurt and fault run on both sides. One pastor wrote: “My first pastorate lasted only six months. I had my head in the clouds with notions that this small church wanted me to lead them to the Promised Land. Several problems converged at once. People didn’t feel I was preaching strongly enough against speaking in tongues. Many longed for the former pastor and worked against me to try to get him to return.

“I didn’t handle that as maturely as I might have. I developed a judgmental attitude toward the status quo mentality of the church people. I was young and still dressed as a college student rather than a small-town pastor. I wore shirts and blue jeans downtown and made no pretense of acting ‘like a preacher.’ I didn’t attempt to communicate on the level of the church people.

“I realized the level of animosity toward me was high enough and irrational enough that to have prolonged the ministry would have been counterproductive. I simply got off to a bad start, and there was no chance for things to be remedied. A quick departure was most merciful to all.”

Such a departure, the most personal of all pastoral decisions, needs to be made with grace and with as much love as possible. The strength of the body of Christ is the bottom line for us all.

The Motivation: Humility

The attitude we bring to personal decisions is not primarily obedience, nor is it commitment, or even forgiveness — though all of those certainly are personal virtues. The essential attitude to bring to personal decisions is humility.

Jonathan Edwards, in his classic Religious Affections, says: “Humility is the most essential thing in true religion … the great Christian duty is self-denial. This duty consists of two things: first, in denying worldly inclinations and its enjoyments and second, in denying self-exaltation and renouncing one’s self-significance by being empty of self.… The humble Christian is more apt to find fault with his own pride than with that of other men.… A truly humble person who has a low view of his own righteousness and holiness is poor in spirit and modest in speech.… He is apt to put the best construction on others’ words and behavior and to think that none is as proud as he is. But the proud hypocrite is picked to discern the mote in his brother’s eye. He never sees the beam in his own. He’s often crying out about someone else’s pride, finding fault with that person’s appearance and way of living. Yet he never sees the filthiness of his own heart.”4

In the spring of 1986, I was part of a fact-finding trip to South Africa. We interviewed church leaders in that troubled country to find out what the church was doing in the face of cultural upheaval. One leader we interviewed was David Bosch, dean of the faculty of the University of South Africa. An accomplished teacher, researcher, and administrator, David was born and raised in South Africa. His Afrikaner nationality made him a part of the ruling minority. His efforts to renounce apartheid made him a hero to some factions and an enemy to others.

His accomplishments at the university gave him an opportunity to escape the turmoil and trouble: Princeton University in the United States offered him a tenured teaching position.

“After years of struggle, it was a chance to get away from it all. My children were grown. My wife was willing to go. Princeton is a great university. Yet over the interview process and the months of decision, the Lord made it clear he still had plans for us in South Africa. Finally, the command was so clear we could do nothing else. We turned down the offer at Princeton and will continue to work for the kingdom here in South Africa.”

That’s the spirit that must pervade any decision making that involves a leader’s personal interest. Without it, mistakes will surely be made.

Dangers

The danger of making personal decisions by imposing theological constructs on them (that is, using the law of right and wrong) is what we might call prophetism. Personal preferences become holy absolutes. By marshaling Scripture to support a personal agenda, church leaders quickly go awry. New messiah is a long way from servant/leader.

Prophetism easily becomes neurotic. Generally, these leaders see their personal spiritual journey as the model for all spiritual journeys. Forgotten are “past” personality flaws and aberrant activities. Personal desire is labeled as God’s revelation.

It is equally tempting to mix the institutional with the personal. Commitment to the church is noble. Sometimes, however, personal ambition gets mixed in, endangering the leader’s spiritual well-being and the well-being of the leader’s family. Dedication to God’s work is thought to excuse overwork and neglect of health and family. Although workers in many professions suffer from this temptation, it has a particularly pernicious form in “call” situations, because the worker uses “God’s call and mission” as the false rationale for workaholism. Most prospective workers in the mission field, for example, are bombarded with the overwhelming “needs” of the mission:”We must have replacements for retiring missionaries to keep the work going in such-and-such a country.” The dynamic is hard to resist, whether overseas or in a local parish. The needs are overwhelming, and the job tantalizingly open-ended.

It is easy to confuse an interpersonal decision with a personal one. We are so influenced by our relationships and loved ones, it is difficult to get in touch with our needs in the matter. (Or more precisely, to get in touch with what God wants us to do in the matter.)

The dangers of treating a personal decision or risk as an interpersonal one are many. Self-righteousness is one. We can rationalize our decision as being essential to the welfare of a group of people. If true, this is an institutional concern. But usually leaders overestimate rather than underestimate the value of their presence.

Knowing when to leave is difficult. There are times to stay and fight through conflicts and down times, even if the eventual resolution is in doubt.

At times, though, staying can be more destructive than leaving. One pastor wrote the following story of mishandling such a situation:”A group of dissident members collaborated with some staff members to try to have me removed. They mailed a letter to members outlining their concerns. It included their names. After holding open meetings and trying to bring reconciliation, I finally led the church board to remove from the church role those who had signed the letter. We gave them the opportunity to change their minds and stop trying to remove me and be restored. However, over two hundred people — nearly half the congregation — left.” In this instance, the cost of staying was probably too great and should not have been paid. At some point, one’s personal ministry must be subordinated to the work of the body itself. The only way to solve a personal risk-taking situation is to approach it with humility, which is to approach it with a great deal of trembling, fear, and prayer for personal guidance.

Conclusion

A right decision triggers a sense of security, a certain peace of mind that comes from doing God’s will. Marguerite Wolf, in an article, “The Meaning of Security,” put it this way:”True security isn’t a commodity to be bought or won in the future. It’s a present state of mind. A satisfaction in being who you are and where you are, alone or in company.”5

Making the right decision in a difficult personal situation leads to contentment and peace — contentment knowing it was done with the good of everyone in mind, and peace in knowing God has led and directed throughout.

I talked to a pastor last year, a friend who, after a series of good early pastorates, had spent the last ten years in a large, well-to-do church in a Kansas City suburb. But now, at fifty-two years of age, he sensed his effectiveness there had peaked. His question to me was, “Should I hang on here for another ten years until I can retire? Or should I look for another place to serve?

I asked, “Do you have another church in you? Do you want to climb one more mountain?”

After a moment’s reflection, he said, “Yes, I think I do. Thanks for putting the question in that way. I think I can serve God more effectively in a new church that is still on the way up.”

He resigned his secure position and after some searching found a church of two hundred in another midwestern community where he has recently begun his pastorate.

God gives us personal challenges of many different kinds during our ministries. Our task is to listen and respond — with humility.

William Penn, Reflections and Maxims (Philadelphia: Friends Book Store, 1886), 55.

Cited by Landon Y. Jones, “The Mid-Career Switch,” Esquire (June 1982): 81.

Daniel Levinson, The Seasons of a Man’s Life (New York: Ballantine, 1979).

Jonathan Edwards, Religious Affections (Portland, Oregon: Multnomah Press, 1984), 132-137.

Marguerite Wolf, “The Meaning of Security,” Parents Magazine (December 1963): 64.