Correcting suspicion

A year ago about this time someone came into my office with this allegation: "Someone is trying to run us out of the church."

"What?" I was shocked. "How do you know?"

"We've noticed that when we move seats, this person moves, too. They sit nearby. They talk to the people we've just greeted during the welcome."

"But, how do you know they want to run you out of the church?"

"Because of their behavior. It's like they have to watch us. They are making us feel uncomfortable and we may just have to leave."

Ever since this little encounter I've been struck how often and how quickly false assumptions are made about the motives and intentions of other people. I hear them all the time. I think it is probably one of the most common, subtly destructive forces in the body of Christ. Divisions start here and even the slighest offense is multipied.

It happens like this: "Joe" doesn't understand the behavior of "Rick". Joe draws his own fanciful conclusions which seem very logical to him. He believes his conclusions. He thinks he has the truth. Then everything Rick subsequently does is filtered through Joe's conclusions and appears to validate them. Joe starts acting on these assumptions of his and maybe even sharing them with others. The little mustard seed of suspicion he allowed to be planted in his heart begins to grow and bloom and bear awful fruit.

Why didn't Rick say "hi" when I came into the room? Come to think of it, he didn't even look at me. What did I do? Is it because I'm not a professional like him? He thinks he is so superior to everyone. Jerk.

How does a pastor combat unproven suspicions within the church, especially when they often go unsaid. Obviously, we preach the Word of God which reminds us over and over to love one another as Jesus loved us. Part of loving one another is believing the best about a person. Assuming the worst before we know the facts isn't love, it's sin. "Love believes all things...hopes all things" (I Cor. 13:7).

Aside from preaching the Word, pastors must model practicing the Word. First, pastors must model love and refuse to cultivate suspicions about others. We are just as prone to assume false truths as anyone else. We may share with our church our assumptions about the President or share privately with our wives assumptions about a church leader. When we see what we're doing, we should be quick to acknowledge them as sin and stop it in its tracks. If we shared a false assumption in public, maybe we should apologize in public, too.

Second, pastors must model loving correction. Oh boy. This is the unspoken bane of ministry: correcting people. But it must be done - lovingly, gently, respectfully, humbly - but still done, and unapologetically. After we take the log out of our own eye, then we are charged with looking after one another spiritually. We're not the only ones with this charge, but we ought to be models of it. If assumptions are shared in our hearing we should address them. If shared privately, then privately. If shared publically, then publically.

Lord willing, our bane could be the other person's blessing.

The goal is to cultivate an atmosphere of love and self-evaluation in the church. Relationships that last are tested. Authentic community goes deep. Real, Biblical friendships are forged by talking and confessing to one another, not by assuming and avoiding. How can members worship God truly when they are thinking of one another falsely? It can't happen.

What happened in the situation I recounted at the beginning? I questioned their assumptions. I didn't write them off or laugh at them, I just challenged them. I also told them some other just-as-likely conclusions that could be made. I encouraged them to find out the truth by talking to this individual. That's the last I heard of it.

But I hear other assumptions made among brothers and sisters in Christ and I'm certain that's not even half of what people are thinking. Because suspicion breeds suspicion, a pastor's hands are always full.

Speaking of brimstone

This is completely random, but have you ever seen a pastor kneeling all over his yard lighting rodent smoke bombs to eradicate moles and their young? These bombs have a three inch fuse and you have five seconds to insert them into the tunnel and cover them up before they ignite.

There are so many moles destroying my lawn that I don't know if they are working yet. Surely they are better than the road flares I used at first, but twelve may not be enough. Another dozen may do the trick.

Needless to say I am finding a little guilty pleasure in this.

Fire and brimstone

"Do you preach fire and brimstone?" asked one of the senior members at church.

"What do you mean?" I replied. Was he asking if I preached about fire and brimestone of if I preached in a particular style called "fire and brimstone preaching"?

He clarified himself. "You know, do you preach on the consequences of sin?"

"Yes," I said, "I haven't preached a whole sermon on hell, but I I've talked about Hell as an eternal, literal place for those who reject Christ. I've probably said more about the wrath and condemnation sinners are under now rather than just the judgment to come. But, yes, I preach on the consequences of sin."

This conversation took place over the phone so I couldn't read his face. "Why do you ask?"

"I don't remember hearing you preach about Hell," he said.

That was basically the end of the discussion. Something about the way he asked made me think he was genuinely concerned I was avoiding the topic of Hell. I don't think that I have. Again, I haven't preached a specific sermon on Hell, but I don't think I've neglected the subject.

Regardless of his motives or concern or lack of memory, it did make me think about my preaching. Do I unconsciously shy away from talking about Hell? Do I somewhere deep down doubt it's existence or think it is less horrifying than it really is? Have I made the consequences of unbelief sufficiently clear? While we may not be "fire and brimstone preachers", pastors must warn our hearers of Hell and plead for their escape.

A ministry bright-spot

In the midst of many dissatisfying and perplexing areas of pastoral ministry, there is one bright-spot where I find the most enjoyment.

Last summer a small group of fathers-of-young-children began meeting late on Wednesday evenings. It was born out of a desire for friendship as much as a responsibility for discipleship. We read and discussed Steve Farrar's book, "PointMan, How a Man Should Lead His Family." I was pleased with everyone's participation and desire for such a ministry.

When the new school year rolled around we launched into a new book, "Knowing God," by J.I. Packer. I knew this would be a challenge for some of our men. Packer doesn't write in a popular style like Farrar. Two men became too busy to attend the group but two others took their places. What a joy it was to discuss theological truths with these men and wrestle over the application to our lives as husbands, dads, and employees.

Now that Spring is here and "Knowing God" is complete, our group has begun, "The Love Dare," which comes from the movie, Fireproof. There are more men now. Books addressing marriage attract more interest than books on, say, the sovereignty of God. No one seems afraid of sharing. Last night one man, someone who does not go to our church, shared openly about the state of his marriage and we prayed for him specifically.

This has been a ministry bright-spot over the last year. It is late enough not to interfere with family time. It doesn't require any special preparation from me other than reading my chapters and praying. I am getting to know these men more personally and they are getting to know me. Our conversation is casual and transparent. Friendships are being forged.

I don't know what God has in store for this men's group. My hope is that the time spent reading and discussing and praying together will bear fruit in the church, in families, in the work place, and in men's devotional lives.

Time and Guilt

As a pastor, I find myself torn between balancing my time in several areas: study, visitation, meetings, community involvement, and family. When I evaluate the amount of time I spend in each of these areas, I inevitably feel like I have failed. If I studied more, the message would have been better; if I would have made that visit, it would have made a difference; if I didn't have so many meetings and events to attend, my family life would be so much better. The cycle repeats week-in and week-out. Seeking to prioritize the time I spend in each area becomes laborious and overwhelming as well.

I cannot accomplish all the tasks that I desire to do, let alone all the tasks that well meaning and loving congregants desire me to do. I find myself spending fewer nights with my family, and feeling guilty about both ministry and family.

How do I respond to this guilt?

What gain has the worker from his toil? . . . I perceived that there is nothing better for them than to be joyful and to do good as long as they live. - Solomon (Ecc 3:9,12)

The Word of God reminds me that I am to find my joy in Him. I am not a slave to the tyranny of unrealistic expectations (either mine, or my congregation's). I must remind myself that I am to love God, love my family, and love His church. In doing these things, I find joy and do good.

I am an ordinary pastor. Ordinary means I don't always meet the expectations of others in my management of time, but ordinary means I don't have to feel guilty.

Shaking free of praise

On my last trip to the book store at the Desiring God Pastor's Conference I found this paperback by Erwin Lutzer called, "Pastor to Pastor, Tackling the Problems of Ministry." I started it immediately and recommend it to ordinary pastors.

Chapter two tackled a congregation's expectations. A few statements really spoke to me. Actually, they spoke about me.

"If we are self-conscious, always wondering how well we are liked, we'll soon be slaves to the pulse of our popularity."

"When we're overly sensitive to what others think, we'll also live with guilt - the nagging feeling that we could be doing more."

"The desire for human praise and the faith to minister cancel each other - seek the one and the other eludes you."

"If we are especially sensitive, if we cannot tolerate differences of opinion, and if we refuse to learn from criticism, we're still clinging to our reputation."

Jesus, writes Lutzer, was free from man's opinions about Him. He was surrendered to His Heavenly Father, secure, and "free from actions motivated by a desire for human praise." To be like Him, Lutzer offers this counsel:

1. Don't let people push you into their mold.
2. Profit from criticism.
3. Don't be afraid to let your humanity show.
4. Don't see the success of another as a threat to your ministry.

Men's praise, I hate to admit, is one of my idols. I know it and I'm fighting it. I'm praying for the grace to finally shake free of caring about what others think of me or say about me.

Pastors can't always choose

Pastors have preferences like everyone else. Take church music for example, one of the most opinionated subjects in modern Christianity.

I for one really enjoy the sound of an acoustic guitar and wouldn't mind a guitar-led worship service, so long as the guitarist is really trained in both music and leading congregational singing. I like the piano, but I would prefer additional acoustic instruments for a richer sound.

I appreciate solos and other so-called "specials", but I would rather sing and hear the voices of the congregation singing all around me. I don't want to sing songs that just show-case the talents of the musicians or singers, but songs that invite everyone's involvement. That means it can't be so loud that the music drowns out the congregation.

I don't need a choir every Sunday, a praise team or a single leader fits me just fine. And I don't mind if the praise leaders are expressive (raised hands, spontaneous praises) so long as they are considerate of others and aren't distracting to me, which is a very subjective thing to say.

I don't particularly care for old-time gospel music written in the 50's like you might here from Gaither. I wish they would rename that whole genre and preserve the term "gospel music" for actual gospel-saturated, cross-centered music.

I happen to like historic hymns of the faith and also many of the contemporary songs written for worship today, so I really want to sing a mixture of the best of both. I want to sing, "A Mighty Fortress is Our God" by Luther and "Your Grace is Enough" by Tomlin provided the songs flow and have substance.

I prefer less talking between songs, in fact, I don't need any transitional, explainational, introductory or devotional statements or stories during the singing. Sometimes it is truly helpful, but I would prefer a prayer or Scripture reading instead. At the very least, I like talking kept to a minimum.

I would rather the lights be up during a worship service. If I were at a concert or watching a movie or listening to an entertainer, then by all means lower the lights, but I don't need the lights lowered to make me feel more intimate with God. I want to know I am with the people of God. The only exception to this is if the meeting room dwarfs the congregation. In that case, I like the lights lowered to make the room feel less empty.

So those are some of my opinions about church music. They are my preferences and I feel like I can justify them. I'm also certain there is a church somewhere within driving distance that fits my preferences, at least initially. But, unlike most Christians in America, I can't choose to go to that church. When it comes to our own preferences, pastors can't always choose what they want.

Here's some of my thoughts why:

Pastors have to think about the whole church body, not just themselves. We are shepherds after all, and the needs of the flock come before our own wants. I don't mean to say people's preferences come before our preferences. I mean people come before our preferences. People with varying, sometimes divergent, opinions go to my church. There is no way in the world I can please them all or throw their perspective out the door. As a pastor I have to think about them all, not just a few. Somehow pastors have to strive for a God-glorifying balance, a median.

Also, pastors have to take what they have and gratefully use it as best as they can. Small churches don't have the options larger churches have. You can only do musically what your people are capable of. You can only employ the people and purchase the equipment you have the budget for. You have to nuture and mentor both the under-trained and the immature.

And, if pastors don't like something about the music or other aspect of the ministry, they can't leave to find what they like somewhere else. Of all the people in America, only pastors can't leave over their preferences. Well, they can but then they wouldn't be good shepherds. No, pastors must have tremendous patience, a willingness to wait on God and on their preferences.

Sometimes I envy the person who can just pick and choose their church, but not for long. I don't think they have the right perspective. Soon they'll be looking again. Church is not the sum-total of our preferences. It is much more. Heaven knows how much more. What about God's preferences anyway? Now, that's a good question.