How honest should your pastor be? At first glance, that question is a no-brainer. Why, we want a pastor who is totally honest, accountable, transparent, willing to admit his faults and be up front about his failures. If the ministry scandals of the last twenty-or-so years have taught us anything it’s that congregations deserve a full disclosure from the men at the helm.
Yeah, right.
I had been in the ministry three or four years when, one Sunday morning, I did something that radically affected the course of my pastorate. At the time, I was in my late twenties, a father of four, renting a 900 square foot house, pastoring about 60 or 70 people. After worship, I took the pulpit, closed my Bible, pulled up a stool and sat down. I told the people assembled there that I felt incapable of preaching; and so instead of “going through the motions” I confessed how burned out I was, how inadequate I was to lead the church, and how flawed I was as a man, a husband and a father. It was an awkward time, as you can imagine, but it ended with the congregation gathering around me in tearful, heartfelt prayer. We closed in worship and the service ended.
Neat, huh? Wrong!
Shortly thereafter, I received a letter from a member of the church. We don’t need to hear all the gory details about our pastor, he wrote. What we want is a good sermon, someone who can lead the church with confidence, not a weak, shamelessly transparent man. Mike, save your confessions for another time and place. With that, he announced his family, and several others, would be leaving the church. Oh well, so much for honesty and transparency.
In a way, I don’t blame them. I mean, if I showed up at a church expecting to hear God’s Word preached, only to have the pastor sniveling about his struggles, I probably wouldn’t be back either. But it creates a genuine dilemma for church-goers. On the one hand, we say we want openness and honesty from the pulpit; we won’t be fooled again by scammers and fakers and closet homosexuals. But on the other hand, when the dirty laundry is aired, we cringe and run for cover.
Of course, you say. We want full disclosure from our pastor. . . just not to us. He should be accountable to the Board and other pastors, but don’t burden the congregation with his sins and indiscretions. But is ignorance bliss when it comes to our spiritual shepherds? Just keep the parking lot clean, the volume down, and the sermon short, and it’s all good. Church boards can be as compliant and deceived about ministerial sin as anyone. After all, when you’ve got people’s livelihood tied to the character and credibility of one man, it’s easy to bite your tongue.
The transparency tightrope is a difficult one for the church and its pastor to walk.
My hunch is that if you knew everything about your pastor — his sins, deficiencies, short-comings — you would struggle to hear from him. Sure, we want our pastors to be honest! But only to a point. After that, what we don’t know won’t hurt us. . .
I think you’re right; it’s a bit of a tight-rope walk, unfortunately. But I think in that case your member was in error. I tend to attract emotionally-needy people like a magnet (no joke; I’m like Jupiter or something), and I love them but can only be around them for moderate amounts of time.
I could see members taking issue if you completely have a nervous breakdown every week. Honest, I could.
But in the end I’d rather you preach what God burns into your heart than simply spout words that currently mean nothing to you. Twenty-four years of sermons has taught me the difference (good lord, if I ever do the math on that…*shudders*).
The thing is, we’re aware of our leaders’ weaknesses even when they aren’t. So for them to ignore it is grounds for removal (in my estimation).
I’m a conniving person, Mike. I say both are quite necessary. Times of complete soul-baring come. It sounds to me yours came and a few people simply couldn’t handle it. That doesn’t mean it was wrong.
What would be wrong would be to sit there and turn every week into “Pulpit Confessionals.” 0=) Or to struggle and turn every week into a rather glorious show. In neither case is God glorified.
Where God is glorified is in seeing his strength come through your weakness. And that’s the difference. That’s why pulling up a stool and unpacking the junk is supposed to be a good thing. It’s when we (and more specifically, I) use the self-abasement as false-humility that it becomes bad.
Where is truth without grace, or grace without truth?
Okay, I’m rambling. If none of that made sense you can throw things at me.
(Same person, real name)
I just have to add a sidenote about the “good sermon” comment… *chuckles* I’m sorry, but…Define “good sermon.” Honestly, if you’ve come to be entertained you’re in the wrong place. As for “good sermon,” maybe it’s me, but I don’t come to church to be impressed. That tends to go badly very quickly, and you’ll always be disappointed, because no one can quite juggle like you can.
To quote a friend of mine, “Let us not reduce the Cross to the wit of an orator.”
I’m so sorry you had to deal with that. You opened your heart and received a nice slap on the hand.
Yuck.
The discerning Christian is well aware of a pastor experiencing most difficulties without actually knowing for a fact what they are. Unfortunately, that doesn’t always translate to transparency on his part. While you might have done things a bit differently in later years, you are still to be commended for your honesty. Sometimes the truth is unpleasant and sometimes it hurts to hear, but that certainly doesn’t make it unnecessary.
It seems we either elevate pastors to idol status or we treat them as slaves pushing them into pigeon holes so we can hold them captive to what we think they should be. Either way is despicable. I’ve seen it both ways–believe me, I think the idol status is the most harmful. Anyway, we as Christians must all find our places without leaving devastation and pain in our wakes.
The “Pulpit Confessionals” — that’s funny Remade. Perhaps what’s more surprising than some folks being offended, was the rather “tame” content of my confessions. I really didn’t share anything that scandalous — no affairs, addictions or Swiss bank accounts; I wasn’t getting a divorce, renouncing my faith, entering detox or harboring mafia members. I can only imagine what would have happened if I confessed something really bad. . .
Save the gritty stuff for Board Meeting Confessionals. 😉
Great topic. My pastor has a special place in my heart. I can’t stand up in church and make an announcement without tearing up. He opens his heart and makes himself completely vulnerable every week. I can’t imagine doing that and then hearing a complaint. I’d seriously backslide on that person. I also feel for pastors’ wives. I try to remind people that every time they see our pastor heading a meeting or popping in for a minute, his wife is somewhere alone.
I think it depends somewhat on your church too- the make-up of it, I mean. Our church is big, and there are new people there every week, unsaved people, guests of members just visiting. And every week there is great worship, really good teaching and opportinities to get prayer. I KNOW that my pastor is surrounded by a group of really godly men who do hold him accountable. And I know that he is transparent with them. He tells us now and then about examples of how he was erring in some way and how another elder confronted him. Anyway, because of the setting of our church, I think him sharing in that particular way from the pulpit might not be a good thing. However, we do have “flock groups” and because I live nearby, I am in the one at his house. In that setting, with about 12 people who know each other better, he shares a bit more openly on the personal level. It’s interesting how congregations sort of get to thinking they own their pastors, that they deserve to know their every secret and have a claim on every minute of their time…
Anyway, my old church was much smaller. Everyone knew everyone. And if something bad happened, we might spend a good part of the service praying for the individual effected. There were rarely visitors and if there were, they didn’t usually return. But that’s a different story.
And Mike? I applaud your openess and honesty. Yup, pastors are people. And we need so much more grace than we give each other. Grace, grace, grace. Lord, help us.
I’ve been up before a congregation confessing before. Got some grace, got some judgment. I’ll take grace anyday. And hope I’ll always give it.
Hey Mike, I just came across this poem by Shel Silverstein and all I could think of was your posting on the rules:
Listen to the MUSTN’TS child,
Listen to the DON’TS
Listen to the SHOULDN’TS
The IMPOSSIBLES, the WON’TS
Listen to the NEVER HAVES
Then listen close to me –
Anything can happen, child
ANYTHING can be.