Surrender To His Divine Placement
In His Providence the Lord Gives and he takes away, blessed be the name of the Lord
My struggles have been deep as of late. I am thankful they have not turned too dark but have been genuine and often sad. I have learned over this last year that one can hold two emotions simultaneously, so you can be sad yet have joy, and it is ok.
In his providence, God led us to leave Marion, Illinois, and move to Washington, Illinois. In his providence, he allowed me to pastor a church only to later take it away. In his providence, he brought some incredible men into my life only to take them away. I do not have to understand; I only know he gives and he takes away. The question is will I bless his name?
I don't know why I have struggled so hard in these last few weeks focussing on all I have lost. Friends who are gone, a ministry left in shambles, feelings of being abandoned, wondering if I really have any friends (locally anyway), longing for something more in my relationships with others than what I have, the hurt is real. Still, the Lord gives, and he takes away.
I remember the day I met George. He walked in and sat in the back of the church on the right-hand side. He could not really hide; we were a small church, and he was a large man. My mind drifts back to that day, often to our conversation, to me asking if he had a family. I still remember him saying, "I listened to some of your sermons online, and I had to come to verify if this place was real." I told him that I hoped he found what he was looking for, and he did. I do not know that I have ever grown so close to someone so fast. I would talk with him multiple times throughout the week, have his family into my home and share things I had not shared with others. I could sit down and have a deep theological conversation or sit down and talk about nothing at all; it did not matter. George was that kind of friend. I remember the joy in my heart and being so thankful that God would bring someone to me that was such an encouragement. But the Lord gives, and he takes away.
I will never forget that day. I can remember every detail of the day; sometimes, I can still smell that day and still feel the coldness of that morning. I remember the run I had that morning. I remember having some coffee with the guys; I remember being outside and the tree falling into the neighbor's yard. The one memory I have never been able to shake is when George said, "hey Sean, where is your bathroom?" I think back to that moment over and over again. Often with tears in my eyes, and even though I know I would not have stopped what was about to happen, I wonder what if I would have at least said something. What if I had asked if he was ok? What if I had not waited so long to check on him? Did he know what was happening when he walked into that bathroom and collapsed? Was it fast? Did he know I love him? What were the thoughts in his mind? You see, I will never forget that day. It is etched in my mind. Me telling him I was coming in, and no response. Us breaking the door down and administering CPR. I can still hear the count in my head; I still remember the breaths that I gave; it was like it happened yesterday. Yet I come to this conclusion the Lord gives, and he takes away. I often ask God why he would take away a friend like George, and I have no answer. Will I bless the name of the Lord?
Bill Sexton walked into our church on a Wednesday in a suit. I was in shorts and a t-shirt. I introduced myself as the pastor. I remember his first words to me, "Do you preach on the sovereignty of God in this church" I remember thinking that is an odd question. My response? "Is it in the Bible," to which he responded, "yes," to which I replied, "then I preach on it?" He said he and his wife would be back on Sunday, but I did not believe it. Sure enough, there they were that Sunday. Then the Sunday after that, then the Sunday after that, and they just kept on coming.
To Bill, age did not mean anything. It did not matter that he was far older than I; he still would ask me how to handle something, and he still asked me what I thought. He was an intelligent man, constantly studying and reading. Bill never missed a chance to encourage me. Time and time again, he would encourage me sometimes on Sunday; after the message sometimes, he would call me midweek just to encourage me. Bill would tell me on the phone he loved me, and I had no problem saying it back. Often he would say it was his job to be an encouragement to me. I can remember Bill saying that he wanted to be like Aaron or Hurr, who held up the hands of Moses. He felt it was his job to hold up my hands even if I could not hold them up any longer. Every pastor needs a man like Bill. A man who will walk through the fire for you, a man who will stand and fight the battles everyone else is afraid of fighting. However, the Lord gives, and he takes away.
Bill got sick and ended up in the hospital; he went from the hospital to a nursing home, where I was finally able t see him. He was not good, but he still encouraged me. he went from the nursing home back to the hospital. I tried every trick i Could think of to see him and could not get in due to covid restrictions. When Bill got covid, it was all downhill from there. They finally let me in to see him with his son, and they finally let his wife in to see him as well. I remember when I first walked in, he said to me, "I'm sorry."
I could not think of anything this man would need to apologize for, but Bill always felt he could have done more. If you know him you, this is true. I will never forget the day they said if he were to go on a ventilator, he had about a 5 percent chance of coming off. I explained this to him and asked what he wanted to do. He decided to go on his own terms and in the strength of the Lord. I remember whispering in his ear that it was ok to go home. As the end drew close, I went to his bedside and held his hand. I held his hand a lot in those last days, and I was standing there holding his hand; he drew his last breath and stepped into glory. This man that told me he wanted to hold my arms up when I could not lay there as I held his hand. God gave me the privilege to know him, and the privilege to be there with him when he drew his final breath. His battle on earth was done. The Lord gives, and he takes away will I bless the name of the Lord?
I recent weeks, these thoughts have often entered my mind. I have moments of extreme loneliness where I can be surrounded by people and still feel alone. I am a highly social person, and I have often asked the Lord why he would give these men only to take them away. I have cried many times, praying for someone to come into my life like either of these men. Sometimes just wishing I had someone to hang out with or a guy to invite over with his family for a cookout sometime, just anything. Then I discovered I am unwilling to take a risk, that I am so afraid of losing that I will even make excuses for other people as to why I won't ask them over or to do something.
You see, being a pastor, sometimes I think people feel like they kind of have to invite you over or ask you to do stuff with them, but what happens when you are no longer a pastor? What happens when you are just a regular guy, and no one really seems to notice you? No one seems to care, and no one is really vying to spend time with you. The invitations stop, you begin to wonder if you have the plague or something you do not even here from your own denomination; no one checks up on you even when they know what you are going through. These are things I have rarely, if ever, been faced with. Perhaps I feel alone because I am alone; perhaps I feel like I don't belong because, at this moment, I don't belong. Maybe that day will come when I do. Perhaps the Lord will one day grant me, someone, to step into my life once again. For now, In His providence, the Lord gives and takes away. May I fight to say blessed be the name of the Lord?
Where Is The Accountability For The Church?
In recent years there has been plenty of talk about holding the leadership of churches accountable, and rightfully so. The leader who abuses their power and who seeks to fleece the flock should always be held accountable for their sin. Even if that accountability does not take place on earth, we can take comfort in the fact that God will hold all leaders to a special kind of accountability; this is made clear in the book of James, where we read, “Not many of you should become teachers, my fellow believers because you know that we who teach will be judged more strictly” (James 3:1). Honestly, I do not know of any pastors who desire to be biblical who would make an argument for no accountability in leadership; in fact, most of them have made the opposite argument. In fact, this is one of the great benefits of a plurality of elders having a group of men qualified to be elders holding one another accountable. That is really not what I want to deal with here. I do not want to deal with what happens when the pastor is abusive, but what happens when the pastor is the one being abused? I read this tweet that was put out last year “For every horror story you tell me about a pastor who abused his leadership, I can tell you ten about leaders who abused their pastor.” There is an abundance of truth in that tweet.
Why is there so little written about this subject? It almost seems like this is the deep dark sin of the church that no one wants to talk about. I look around at many friends, acquaintances, and people I know who are no longer pastors; most of them will never return to the ministry, and granted, I am only hearing one side of the story, but from all intensive purposes, the problem was not their leadership it was not that they were abusive to their church, but often they were the ones being abused. They were not being abused by the church as a whole but being abused by a select group of power players in the church that had it out for them for one reason or another. In recent months I have read one story after another of pastors being abused; some of these stories are horrific; when I have read them, I could not help but think this is not how Christians are to act. Pastors coming back from sabbaticals to find out they are fired. Small groups of enraged members propagate disinformation and falsehoods to congregations to remove a pastor from any position of power or moral authority (in my case, it is still happening). Stories of pastors pouring their lives into person after person, only for those people to take the pastor's services for free and then ghost the pastor for the tiniest reasons. What happens if for every story we have of a pastor abusing authority, there are ten pastors who are being abused. I see friends who are beaten, battered, and bruised by the sheep they were leading,, and it breaks my heart.
What happens to these churches? If the leader is abusive, he will often lose his job, resign in shame, and will never enter the ministry again, or they will just go somewhere else and do it all over again; when the church is abusive, guess what the same thing happens. The pastor often resigns in shame and leaves the ministry, never to return again. Where is the accountability? Apparently, there is not any. What is the recourse? Apparently, there is none. Perhaps my view is a bit jaded because I am one of those pastors, but this is why I set out to read as much as I could and talk to some people that had left their church. The story is almost always very close to being identical.
Someone in the church gets upset for one reason or another; this person wields power for whatever reason in the church often because they are the main giver, or they have been there the longest, or they are the gossiper, or whoever it might be. Sometimes it is all of these people coming against the pastor. I wonder if we will ever launch a study on this? Probably not because that would mean a black eye. Anyway, the pastor resigns, the troublemaker in the church gets their way, the pastor loses what seems like his whole way of life, and the church just acts like nothing happened. Sometimes in my denomination, some people will sweep in and do all they can to rescue this church. This is probably because this is far easier than reprimanding the church; after all, the church gives money, and the pastor doesn't. I am thankful that I initially received some help, but I know that is not the norm. Sure the church may be known as "the church who runs pastors through the meat grinder," as one deacon said to me, but does that matter? Does it matter when sin is not addressed? Does it matter when they continue to go one like they always have? Does it matter when they get to blame their sin on others or pretend like sin was not the issue?
In the meantime, the pastor has lost his whole way of life. He does not get to be with those other pastors that he at least thought were his friends. His community is gone, and he is no longer using the gifts that God has given him to serve the kingdom, primarily the gift of preaching/teaching. The pastor feels isolated, lonely, and sometimes without hope. Days turn to weeks, weeks turn to months, months turn to years, and this calling that so gripped his soul is somehow gone. Maybe he wants to continue on, but he is afraid things will just turn out the same, and so it is easier to just give up. Here is my question? For these churches that are part of a denomination, why are they allowed to just keep doing the same thing over and over again? Why is there no accountability for the church? Why doesn't anyone step in to the gap and address the issue? Why are they allowed to just blame it on the pastor and move on? Why do we indulge this kind of behavior? Do we really believe that they will not answer for this sin in the end? Do we really believe that the right way to handle it is to pretend like there is no problem and move on? Do we really believe that by aiding in their sinfulness, we won't answer for it? Seemingly we do.
I can remember the day I told my children Iwas resigning one of my children innocently said "but dad who is going to tell them about Jesus" and on that day another one of my children checked out from church. Over the course of the next several days I could hear it in the questions they were asking. They could not understand why Christians would act this way "so these people now for whatever reason hate dad?" In some respects I appreciated the comment as it told me they saw me different than those making accusations. In another way though I knew they began to check out. I pray for them daily that they will be drawn back in.
I recently went on a pastors retreat and heard a message on pastoral perseverance where the message was speaking about the slow death that pastors are called to die and these things left me weeping and in tears as I thought of my own slow death that would eventually come.
From 2 Corinthains 4
1. Pastors die at a different rate based on circumstances
The harder the ministry context the quicker the death comes. Do not compare yourself to each other. Do not compare your death to someone else’s death. The body keeps the score.
2. Pastors have different capacities to die
We are all made differently. We all have different thresholds that we can endure. You can’t compare your capacity with another.
3. Pastors are given what we need to not lose heart as we die.
This will push us to the brink but it will not destroy us. V.1 He will not spare us from the death because it is part of his plan that we die but he will be with us to allow us to die well.
4. Pastors thrive in this death by embracing weakness
V . 7 Christ is most strong in us in our weakness it is our weakness that fuels the strength of Christ. Do not fight against the death but embrace it.
Brother pastor, if you have stumbled across this blog and you have rad this far you may be hurting I want you to remember the cross always precedes the crown. It is hard to suffer abuse of power, but the chief pastor willingly suffered the abuse of power on a hill called Calvary, and we are his undershepherds, and honestly, we should expect no less. There is a day coming when the injsutices against you will be made right. If you are not a pastor and you have read this and you know your pastor or of a pastor being abused I would beg of you do all you can to stop it. I was able to find a few articles on this subject they are linked below if you would like to read more.
https://www.christiancentury.org/review/books/how-dying-churches-abuse-pastors
