Category: Ministry

The Winding Path: Are Church Business Meetings Unspiritual?

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I can’t think of anyone I know who likes church business meetings. Such people probably exist, but I have not met them. On the other hand, I know many Christians who willfully avoid congregational meetings and who tell horror stories about business meetings. They are dismissive at best, and often openly scornful, as if the church’s business is something distasteful.

 Signs and wonders marked the beginning of the church’s story. By comparison, today’s churches feel tepid. The apostles perform miracles while we hold business meetings and form committees. Yet as the New Testament believers prayed and waited for the promised Spirit to fall upon them in obedience to Christ’s command, Peter called for what appears to us to be something very much like an election.

It feels like a non sequitur. They have been waiting for the Spirit to move in their midst. Anticipation is growing. Why interrupt this merely to add another apostle to the list? Yet in Acts 1:19-22, Peter describes this as both “necessary” and demanded by Scripture (Acts 1:19-22). They weren’t just killing time until the Spirit showed up. This item of church business was spiritual work.

Luke is vague about the process. Was this a vote or an anointing? Did they cast ballots or lots? He tells us they nominated (literally “put forward”) two candidates: Joseph and Matthias. We aren’t told much about them other than the broad qualifications outlined by Peter. They were with the other apostles “the whole time,” beginning with John’s baptism until the ascension. They had seen the risen Christ. There is no pitch given for either nominee.

Church Business by Ballot

What we do know is that the apostles prayed for guidance and expected God to decide between the two. “Lord, you know everyone’s heart,” they prayed. “Show us which of these two you have chosen to take over this apostolic ministry, which Judas left to go where he belongs” (Acts 1:24-25). The decision fell in favor of Matthias.

But the language Luke employs to describe their methodology is not what we would expect. This is not exactly what the priests did in the temple when making decisions. A lot was “cast.” The priests wrote names on stones and placed them in a vessel which was shaken until one fell out.[1] Luke calls the ballot a “lot,” but says that these lots were “put” rather than “cast,” which could suggest that the apostles made the choice by a vote.

Perhaps the difference is trivial. After all, it’s clear from their prayer that these early Christians believed that God’s hand was in the result. A vote involves reflection, deliberation, and choice. God works in both. But casting a ballot includes a human element that the lot lacks. The insertion of a human factor seems to complicate the whole affair unnecessarily. Especially when one considers the vagaries of human volition. Differences in thinking often lead to conflict and competition. Decisions come after a messy process of persuasion and debate. A top-down approach seems far more efficient.

Shrinking Congregational Involvement

Although I don’t have scientific data to confirm it, my impression is that many pastors and church leaders these days are shying away from congregational involvement in decision-making. This is certainly true of large churches that number in the thousands. But I have seen the same trend in much smaller churches. Decisions are made by a select group which includes the pastor, and the rest of the congregation is informed of the result. Some leaders theologize this methodology, claiming that congregational voting is unbiblical.[2]

Not long after Matthias was appointed, “when the number of disciples was increasing,” the apostles called another meeting to address a complaint about the daily distribution of food (Acts 6:1). This matter seems so mundane that it hardly seems worthy of their consideration.

Indeed, if we read the account carelessly, we are liable to conclude that this is how the apostles themselves felt about it. “It would not be right for us to neglect the ministry of the word of God in order to wait on tables,” they said (Acts 6:2). To the modern ear, this sounds like dismissal. “We didn’t spend night and day for three years studying under Jesus to wait on tables!” they seem to object.

A Community of Spiritually Capable Adults

On its surface, the apostolic solution appears to be the one that every bureaucrat employs. Form a committee, hand the problem over to them, and turn your attention to more important (or at least more interesting) matters (Acts 6:3-4). The apostles clearly drew a line between what they had been asked to do and what they were willing to do. These days, we call this “setting boundaries.” But they did not exactly say, “We don’t wait on tables.” Instead, these leaders engaged in the good work of administration, one aspect of which is a proper division of labor by means of reasonable and thoughtful delegation.

The apostles did something else. By involving the whole church in addressing the problem, they treated the congregation as a community of spiritually capable adults. Acts 6:2-4 says that they “gathered all the disciples together” and told them to choose seven men who were full of the Holy Spirit and wisdom, saying, “We will turn this responsibility over to them and will give our attention to prayer and the ministry of the word.”

Congregational leadership styles exist on a continuum. At one extreme are autocratic leaders who engage in top-down decision-making. If we take Luke’s narrative at face value, this appears to have been the expectation of those who brought the widows’ problem to the apostles. They demanded, or at least expected, the apostles to handle the matter personally.

Leaders who stand at the opposite end of this spectrum are those who are more laissez-faire in their approach. They leave most decisions to the congregation, often more as a result of congregational tradition than by choice. Some, positioned between these extremes, will make the choice if necessary, but prefer the congregation to decide first. They are willing to advise but reluctant to take control.[3]

Three Conventional Models

Conventional ecclesiology outlines three basic models of church governance: Episcopal, Presbyterian, and Congregational. In Episcopal governance, leadership authority is vested in individual leaders who are charged with oversight of the church’s affairs. The Presbyterian model distributes this authority among a plurality of “elders,” and Congregationalism diffuses it even further by operating on democratic principles.

In actual practice, few churches are purely one mode or another. Even the most autocratic leader must sometimes yield to the wishes of the majority. It is just as true that in churches where every member has a say about what happens, some voices are inevitably given more weight than others.

Church history offers examples which reflect leadership practices all across the continuum. The same is true of the biblical narrative. Sometimes the leaders of God’s people make the important decisions. At other times, they seem to be driven by the preferences of the larger community. In the New Testament, the apostles exercised primary authority over the church’s doctrine but appear to have involved the larger body in some decisions about congregational practice.

It is tempting to distinguish between the spiritual and the organizational in the church. One is all fire, the other is ice. Pastors tend to bristle at the ordinary constraints that church business imposes upon them. Yet the example of the New Testament church in the book of Acts suggests that these bread-and-butter decisions are often the work of the Spirit, paving the way for the church’s growth and advancing its mission.

The Spirit and Our Meetings

Church business can be boring. Its meetings are sometimes chaotic. Like the Corinthians in their worship, our coming together is often a cacophony. Everyone has an opinion, a complaint, or a conviction that they are persuaded represents the mind of the Lord.

Not everyone can be right, especially when the things that are said are contradictory. Nor is every decision necessarily good. Congregations, like the individuals that constitute them, have the liberty to make foolish choices. We can be as dumb as we please, although it’s to be hoped that we will not be.

Nevertheless, the Spirit who did not abhor the Virgin’s womb is also not ashamed to cohabit with the church’s messy deliberations. When the first believers disagreed about whether it was necessary for Gentile Christians to be circumcised in order to be saved, they reached a conclusion after “much discussion” (Acts 15:7). The Greek noun can literally mean “seeking” but in the New Testament its primary note is discordant.

Traveling a Winding Path

The church did not reach its decision about this all-important matter after hearing a voice speak from heaven. It was a conclusion they came to after disputing with one another. I suspect they prayed, but all we know for certain is that they argued. After settling the dispute, the apostles and elders sent a letter to the churches, framing the conclusion in these words: “It seemed good to the Holy Spirit and to us …” (Acts 15:28).

Our fear in following their example is that the congregation will take too long to reach the right conclusion. Or, perhaps, they will make the wrong choice. We worry that if we trust the deliberation process, those with whom we disagree may win the day and our own view will be defeated. We are correct on one point, at least. It is a mistake to trust the process.

We must trust in God, who not only works through human processes, but accomplishes his goals despite them. God often works through our foolish decisions. Leaders would prefer a straighter path. When Israel marched through the wilderness, God went before his people like a shepherd (Ps. 78:52). The straight path from Sinai to Canaan was a two-week journey. Instead, it took Israel forty years. God has never been afraid of a little detour.

[1] F. J. Foakes Jackson and Kirsopp Lake, The Beginnings of Christianity Part I: The Acts of the Apostles Vol. IV (Grand Rapids: Baker, 1979), 15.

[2] For example, Greg Gilbert argues that congregational voting should be fairly limited and favors elder led decision making: https://www.9marks.org/article/i-move-we-dont-vote-so-much/.

[3] Jason Wollschlager, Elizabeth L. Abbey, and Stacy M. Keogh George, “Pastoral Leadership and Congregational Vitality,” Review of Religious Research 60, no. 4 (2018): 576.

Praying Through the Sermon: Five Gates of Prayer

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To say that preachers ought to pray seems so obvious that it barely needs to be stated. I can’t think of any preacher I have known who didn’t pray in connection with the task. Likewise, trying to give preachers advice on how to pray for the sermon feels a little like trying to teach Grandma how to make cookies. J. C. Ryle was right when he called prayer “the simplest act in all religion.” Prayer isn’t brain surgery. “It is simply speaking to God,” Ryle explains. “It needs neither learning, nor wisdom, nor book-knowledge to begin it.” If you want to pray, just tell God what you have to say. It is as simple as that.


Except that it isn’t. Or perhaps I should say that the actual practice itself is not always easy. Not even for those of us who are professionals in the discipline. If praying were easy, there wouldn’t be so many books on the subject. Neither would there be the plethora of methods, strategies, traditions, and even apps meant to harness our energies and get us talking.

An Extended Conversation

Even the most accomplished at praying can still be susceptible to the usual obstacles, such as busyness, distraction, and discouragement. Our most common frustrations seem to result from a combination of time and practice. We do not think that we pray enough. However, if we accept Ryle’s simple definition – that prayer is merely speaking to God – we are probably praying more than we think.

The church tends to organize its prayer life into set hours and stated times. However, for most, it is more of a running conversation that occurs in various contexts, the majority of which are informal. When it comes to the sermon, preachers usually focus on three temporal points: praying at the beginning of their study, at the start of the actual preaching, and then after it has been preached. These prayers are sometimes formal, occasionally even rote, but that does not necessarily make them mere formalities.

“We may find that we are praying more than we realize and in ways that we are not even aware.”

Yet, I think our prayers for the sermon are even more extensive than this. If we focus on the nature of our interaction rather than specific points in time, we may find that we are praying more than we realize and in ways that we are not even aware of. During our preparation and delivery of the ordinary sermon, we pass through at least five gates of prayer.

What separates one from another is tied to the complex nature of the preacher’s task, one that involves listening as much as speaking. We pray for ourselves, the sermon, and the congregation. Our praying extends across the entire span of the sermonic event, from preparation to proclamation and even beyond.

The Gate of Self-Understanding

The first gate we pass through is one of self-awareness. Prayer is a statement directed at God, but it is an act of attention first. Obviously, we must focus our attention on God when we pray. However, all good praying is an exercise in self-awareness as much as it is an effort to be attentive to God. We often find this perspective in the Psalms.

They are much more than grocery lists of personal requests. They include all the things we would expect of prayers: praise, petitions, and lament. But there are also statements of deep personal reflection, spiritual analysis, and self–talk. The Psalms reveal that prayer is often a conversation we have with ourselves as much as a conversation with God.

Sermon preparation begins not with a prayer for the right words but with a prayer for understanding. As preachers, we are interested in knowing what the text says and what the author meant by it. But we tend to be primarily concerned with our own words. We want to know what we will say about it to our audience. Indeed, we often view this as the essence of sermon formulation. This one-sided perspective may cause us to lose sight not only of the congregation but also of ourselves.

Phillips Brooks famously defined preaching as the communication of truth through personality. He was not referring to the quirks or mannerisms we usually associate with personality, but to the expression of truth after it has been processed through personal experience. As Brooks explains, this is a message that is transmitted after “it has entered into our own experience, and we can give our own testimony of its spiritual power.”

Consequently, the most important prayer for the sermon may not be the one we utter when we step up to preach. Instead, it is when the preacher prays in the spirit of Jacob, who wrestled with the angel of the Lord. Like the patriarch, the preacher takes hold of the text and vows, “I will not let you go unless you bless me.” I do not believe that anyone is prepared to preach on a text until it has hobbled them in some way.

“I do not believe that anyone is prepared to preach on a text until it has hobbled them in some way.”

This prayer is not a single plea. It is an ongoing discussion with God during which we reflect on more than the exegetical details of the text and the historical background of the passage. This extended self-reflection is carried out with the help of the Holy Spirit. It expresses our honest response to the text as we struggle with its truth and wrestle with God over its implications. Jesus’ disciples often asked the Savior to explain himself. Sometimes, they even challenged his teaching (Matt. 15:12; 16:22).

The Gate of Compassion

As preachers, we are accustomed to seeing ourselves as God’s messengers. We speak on behalf of God. This is certainly true, but it is not the whole story. Like the priests of old, we also act as advocates on behalf of those who hear us. Therefore, we take our stand with them as we listen to the truth of the text. We attempt to view it through the eyes of our audience and ask the questions that they would ask of the passage and of themselves.

We are not merely studying the text to have something to say. We are studying it from the perspective of our listeners so that we may listen to the text on their behalf. We are not listening as experts in the field but as fellow travelers who need to hear the truth of the text as much as the audience does. Consequently, the second gate through which we must pass is the gate of compassion.

“We are not listening as experts in the field but as fellow travelers who need to hear the truth of the text as much as the audience does.”

This kind of praying is an internal dialogue that begins by asking God to open our eyes to see the audience so that we can identify with them and preach with sympathy. We would like to pray in a way that enables us to come to the congregation as Moses did, down from the mountain with our faces filled with glory. But Thomas Long notes that the sermon’s true trajectory moves in a different direction: “Whether we have been praying, talking, teaching, preparing, or listening, we have been immersed in the lives of these people to whom we will speak, which is another way of saying that, symbolically at least, we rise to the pulpit from the pew.” Preaching is more than simply restating the truth of the text. The sermon is an address that we have carefully and sympathetically crafted for a particular audience.

The Gate of Structure

The message is tailored for a specific audience in a particular life situation, but we must also consider its shape. Sermon structure may seem like a purely mechanical matter. We don’t usually think of it as something we should pray about. In fact, sometimes we don’t think about it at all. After identifying the point of the text, we simply plug it into a generic template, and the sermon comes out.

It is no easy task to align the sermon’s thoughts with the passage’s truth and the audience’s life situation. It is a process of experimentation where we consider multiple options, reject them, and plead with God to show us the one that fits. I have found that God’s answer does not come audibly or even easily. My experience is more of a fumbling exploration than a simple matter of responding to divine dictation. I would compare it to the trial and error that Paul seems to have engaged in during the journey that eventually led him to Macedonia (Acts 16:6–10). I try one path and find that it leads nowhere. I try another, only to abandon it.

Frankly, it often feels as if I am doing all the work. Yet, there always comes a point when I see a path in front of me that seems to fit both the text and the audience. It is the struggle that encourages me to think that God has helped me to find it.

The Gate of Power

Preachers pray for anointing when they begin to deliver the sermon. This is a prayer for empowerment. The term is biblical. In Scripture, anointing has ritual and theological significance. It is associated with the Holy Spirit’s ministry. However, the answer to the question of precisely what constitutes anointing seems somewhat vague.

Is it a concrete feeling or an imperceptible force? Is anointing a static quality that resides within the preacher and the sermon itself? Or is it something that is fluid, intermittent, and unpredictable? Some of the confusion we feel stems from theological convictions that place primary emphasis on either the human or the divine side of the experience.

Those who emphasize the human side tend to view the power of the sermon as a combined function of rhetorical factors inherent in the message as well as personal and spiritual qualities possessed by the messenger. Those who stress the divine are convinced that the power of the sermon depends entirely upon God.

“The fact that preachers on both sides of the theological continuum pray for anointing demonstrates that we all recognize where the true source of power in the sermon resides.”

Interestingly, when John speaks of anointing in connection with the ministry of the word, he attributes it to God but locates it within his audience, describing it as something that “remains in you.” John seems to describe the effect of anointing in cognitive rather than emotional terms when he says that “his anointing teaches you about all things” (1 John 2:27).

Divine power and human effort are not necessarily incompatible. The fact that preachers on both sides of the theological continuum pray for anointing demonstrates that we all recognize where the true source of power in the sermon resides. Where spiritual power is concerned, it is our privilege to ask but not to control.

The Gate of Resignation

This fact brings us to the fifth gate of prayer in connection with the sermon. It is the gate of resignation. These are the conversations we have with God after the sermon has been preached. In practice, it often begins at the close of the sermon. However, it probably should not end there. I often brood about the message after it is over, comparing the experience with my expectations. The contrast is not always a happy one. Even when I am pleased with the result, I cannot always be sure that it means I have preached a “good” sermon.

There is too much about what happens next that lies outside my control. The real work that God is doing through the sermon is not confined to the few minutes I spent preaching it. So, my prayer about the sermon after it has been preached is more than an after-action report asking God to help me do better next time. It is a prayer asking God to continue the conversation with my audience in ways that I cannot see or hear. It is also a dialogue about what needs to be said next and why.

When we pass through the gate of resignation, we relinquish the illusion that we are in control and abandon ourselves to what Martyn Lloyd-Jones has described as the “romance” of preaching. “We do not control the situation; this is of God,” Lloyd-Jones observed in Preaching and Preachers. “This is where the romance comes in; you have no idea what you are doing.” Prayer plays a significant role in this romance. We all know how to pray. But we do not necessarily know what we are doing.

Life After Death by Meeting

~ John Koessler ~ 5 Comments

I have spent a significant portion of my thirty-four years in ministry attending meetings. Sometimes I was in charge of the meeting. At other times, I was a reluctant participant, required to attend by the nature of my work. These experiences prompted me to try and understand the way groups and organizations work. Over the years I have come to few conclusions.

Those who lead the meeting rarely look at it through the same lens as those who attend. I learned this very early in my pastoral ministry.  When I led the church’s board meetings, I focused on the agenda, which often reflected my interests. I wanted the meeting to start quickly and lead to action. In other words, I wanted the board to see things my way and adopt my proposals. They had a very different focus. They usually spent the first thirty minutes or so making small talk, catching up, and talking about work or family. They were not in the same hurry as me. My goals were not nearly as important to them as they were to me. This difference in perspective results in a sort of nearsightedness on the part of those who lead the meeting. Leaders are so focused on their agenda that they often cannot read the people around them. Sometimes they do not want to.

Our interaction with people in meetings is one-sided. One of the things that surprised me most about my experience in meetings was how little others knew about me. Likewise, I found that I tended to relate to people in terms of their role and in some cases their caricature. You might think it would be otherwise. For decades I have spent hours with the same people in meetings. After all this time, I have concluded that they don’t know me at all. I don’t know them either. I know the persona that they project in the meeting, which may be very different from the actual person I pass in the hall. While this is understandable, it is also damaging. Our lack of common knowledge often leads to depersonalization. Bad behavior towards one another in the corporate world, is often justified by saying, “It’s not personal; it’s business.” The same rule holds in Christian organizations as well. Our work suffers when we lose sight of the personal nature of our interactions with one another. These one-sided relationships cause us to see others as negative stereotypes. One is the buffoon, another is the fool. There is the ranter, the suck-up and the tyrant. Depersonalization creates an environment where incivility and bullying flourish.

Meetings are inherently messy. The Gospel of John says that the whole world could not contain all the books that could be written about the things that Jesus did. Something similar might be said about books intended to make meetings go better. Leaders look for ways to make meetings run more smoothly the way the Knights of the Round Table sought after the Holy Grail. Both objectives are pretty much the same. They are beautiful but unattainable ideals. Good meetings, that is to say healthy meetings, are almost always messy. How can they not be when there are competing perspectives and agendas present? The search for an elegant process easily degenerates into patterns of behavior the squash disagreement and stifle creativity. The best thinking is born of serious disagreement that is worked out by people who have learned how to suspend their disbelief long enough to consider other alternatives. In the Christian realm, the quest for smooth meetings also fosters a climate of false civility. This consists of a forced peace which has a low tolerance for disagreement. Because we are unable to disagree well, we are unable to understand one another’s differences. Disagreement is not division. Messy does not have to be mean.

Meetings are necessary. Most of us feel about meetings the way some people do about their in-laws. We would avoid them if we could. But since we can’t, we will endure them as quickly as possible. Meetings get no respect. Books are written about them with titles like Death by Meeting, Meetings Suck, and Bad Meetings Happen to Good People. There is a way to lead without the messy collective deliberation that is inherent in all meetings. It is called tyranny, and it is never good. Churches and organizations are living systems made up of networked individuals. It is the human dimension of these bodies that makes them so messy. Meetings force us to face one another as a community and confront our differences. Most of the time the process is slow, painful, and ambiguous in its result. The messy work of disagreement, deliberation, and movement toward an awkward consensus is essential to the health of every one of these institutions. It is especially important to the church, which is a body of interconnected members. The rule of the church is not “Be sure you get your way.” It is “Have concern for one another” (1 Cor. 12:25).

In the last thirty-four years, I have only served on one committee which I feel approached this ideal. It was chaired by the associate dean of faculty Billie Sue Thompson (who is now with the Lord) and led a diverse and creative group of colleagues responsible for my school’s first-year experience program. We were a mixture of different personalities from a variety of departments. Some of us were outgoing others reserved.  Some were contemplative, while others were activistic. We occasionally got on one another’s nerves.

One of the first things that Billie Sue did was ask us to map ourselves as a group, to help us understand our collective personality. I learned some remarkable things. I discovered that the things that frustrated me most about my peers were usually the things that added value to our little community. The source of my irritation was their gift. In order to benefit from those gifts, I had first to learn to appreciate them. Before I could appreciate them, I had to know them. Most important of all, I realized that if this was true of them, it must also be true of me.

This understanding did not magically transform all of my meetings. Aggravation was not replaced by a warm huggy glow. My enemies did not magically become my friends. Those who had annoyed me continued to annoy me. But the change of perspective I learned from Billie Sue did help me to see them differently. The same change enabled me to see myself differently too. I learned to value them. In the process, I discovered that I had value too.

Why Do Churches Put Up with Narcissistic Leaders?

~ John Koessler ~ 6 Comments

Another high profile pastor has been accused of abusive leadership. The story is so familiar to us by now that it has become monotonous. We are sorry, but we are not surprised. Or maybe we are not sorry. The debacle holds a macabre fascination for us. Like watching a horrific accident while it is in progress, we can’t look away. The fall of a great leader appeals to our egalitarian sensibilities. We like to see the mighty cut down. Americans love to hate their leaders. The story of abusive leaders has become so familiar by now that we ought to ask a question. Why do churches tolerate such pastors? Churches stick with abusive leaders for the same reasons people remain in other abusive relationships.

We are Attracted to Them

No church that is looking for a pastor says to itself, “Hey, I know! Let’s hire a conceited jerk!” Churches give a lot of thought to the characteristics they want to see in their pastor, and most of them are good. Nobody who decides to attend a church is thinking, “Where can I find an abusive pastor today?” The church is drawn to narcissistic leaders because they are attractive to us. Narcissistic leaders have a presence. They are exciting. They hold out the promise of great things for the church. Many produce impressive results, at least for a while. Those who see through the hype recognize it as pretentiousness. But for churches who are hoping for a messianic leader, narcissistic style can be very appealing. These churches are willing to tolerate the abuse in the hope that the pastor will lead them into the Promised Land of ministry success.

They Reward Us

Any co-dependent relationship is built upon a dysfunctional system of rewards. We enable narcissistic behavior because we get something from the leader. Sometimes the reward is small. It may only be that we are addicted to the adrenaline of crisis that comes with this style of leadership. Or maybe we like the pastor’s preaching. Churches tolerate narcissistic leadership behavior because they fear that no one else will be able to produce the same results. Churches with narcissistic leaders are often so identified with the pastor that his departure will have a negative effect on attendance. The larger the church, the more difficult it is to disengage because there seems to be so much at stake. Churches enable narcissistic leaders by developing social systems that reinforce their abuse.  Narcissistic leaders surround themselves with other leaders who make them feel special. This inner circle experiences a vicarious thrill by being associated with the leader. Because narcissistic leadership comes with perks and special treatment, the inner circle often gets rewarded along with the leader. The result is a co-dependent loop which blinds those who should be responsible for holding the narcissist accountable.

We are Afraid of Them

Narcissistic leaders are bullies. They develop organizational cultures which are marked by fear and punishment. Church members who question their agenda or practices are accused of being divisive and undermining God’s plan. In a misapplication of 1 Samuel 26:9 & 11, those who criticize the pastor are sometimes warned not to “raise their hand against the Lord’s anointed.” Threats and retaliation are explained away as “church discipline.” Narcissists use the power of their spiritual position to shut down anybody who challenges them. They create a culture of fear which silences objections and penalizes objectors. There is always a cost to those who challenge a narcissistic leader.

What You Can Do About It

What can you do, if you believe your church has a culture of narcissistic leadership? First, pray for divine intervention. This sounds overly simplistic, but it is the most important strategy for dealing with a narcissistic pastor. Narcissistic leaders are extremely difficult to correct. They do not see themselves as narcissists. They do not understand why others criticize their motives and actions. They explain away criticism by attributing it to Satanic attack. Churches with deeply entrenched narcissistic leaders need to ask God to bring the true nature of its dysfunctional leadership to light.  In most cases, things get worse before they get better.

Second, refuse to cooperate with the co-dependent dynamics of the church’s narcissistic culture. You have no control over the narcissist. You cannot force a narcissistic leader to see himself as a narcissist. But you can introduce an element of disequilibrium into the culture by not participating in the game. Dysfunctional cultures are a kind of dance. Everybody has to keep in step. When you refuse to follow the dysfunctional rules you create a dynamic that makes change possible. The foundational rule in a dysfunctional culture is the code of silence. We break that rule by speaking the truth in love. But recognize that there is a cost to this.

Finally, look for a healthier church. This is extremely hard, especially if you have invested your life in the church. Your friends and your ministry are there. Nobody likes to start over. Sometimes the best thing to do in a church system which tolerates narcissistic leadership is to leave. If the pastor is deeply entrenched and surrounded by a team that protects him, you should look to your own spiritual wellbeing. Nobody likes to leave a church. But sometimes it’s the wisest and safest thing to do.

Narcissism appears to be a deceptively tame sin. We tend to think of narcissists as buffoons that everyone can see through. In reality, narcissistic leaders are profoundly damaging to the church.  They are bullies and spiritual abusers who demand that that church serve them. They are the kind of shepherds the Lord condemns in Ezek. 34:2-3: “Son of man, prophesy against the shepherds of Israel; prophesy and say to them: ‘This is what the Sovereign LORD says: Woe to the shepherds of Israel who only take care of themselves! Should not shepherds take care of the flock? You eat the curds, clothe yourselves with the wool and slaughter the choice animals, but you do not take care of the flock.’”

Click here to listen to my conversation with Chris Fabry about narcissistic leadership.

The Trouble with the 80/20 Rule

~ John Koessler ~ 9 Comments

You know the 80/20 rule. You probably heard about it from your pastor. The 80/20 rule is the statistic which says that in the average church 20% of the people do 80% of the ministry. There is a problem with the 80/20 rule and it’s not the uneven distribution of labor.

Before I go any further I need to confess that when I was a pastor I used the 80/20 rule to try and motivate the congregation. It’s a helpful statistic, if your main goal is to get people to hang their heads in shame. It is also good for reinforcing the pride or the resentment of those who see themselves as part of the 20%. What it does not do is motivate the 80% to greater involvement. I know this from personal experience. I have been on both sides of the statistic.

But that’s not the reason the 80/20 rule is problematic. The real problem is the way this statistic defines ministry. When church leaders (and let’s be honest it’s usually only church leaders who use this statistic) speak of ministry, they almost always mean church programs. They are talking about the nursery or the Sunday school program. They mean VBS or the weeknight kids club or the latest short-term mission trip to some country that also sometimes shows up as a destination for the prize puzzle on Wheel of Fortune. What they don’t mean are the kinds of things you and I spend most of our time doing. Things like working at our jobs, raising our kids, caring for our families, relating to our neighbors, or being a citizen.

There is a reason for this. It has to do with the competitive environment in which the church does business. Most churches use the term ministry to describe the religious goods and services they provide. Those goods and services are the main product they offer to their customers. The more product they offer, the larger their customer base. Because most churches operate with limited staff, they rely mostly on volunteers. Those volunteers carry out this work in between everything else they are doing in their lives. It is their ministry. Everything else is pretty much dead space.

So what’s wrong with the 80/20 rule? The trouble is that the 80/20 rule is a calculation based on a definition of ministry that concerns itself with far less than 20% of what we do with our lives and leaves the rest out. It might be better described as the 90/10 rule or even the 98/2 rule. It is limited not only because the things that it defines as ministry fall outside those areas where most of us expend the majority of our energy but because of the limited number of options it provides. By this definition, there are only a handful of things that really qualify as a ministry.

This is more than a bad definition. Ultimately it reflects a failure of the church’s mission. The function of the church is not to train workers for the spiritual marketplace. It is to equip its members to live the Christian life. They live out this calling as a distributed community, dispersed in their various locations, jobs, and circumstances. Their ministry is to bear witness to the grace of God and the transforming work of Jesus Christ in whatever context they find themselves.

My friend Al is a good example of this. Before he retired, Al worked as a special education teacher in the public school system. Now he spends much of his time as a caregiver for members of his family. He not only tends to their practical needs by preparing meals or providing transportation but maintains a spiritual presence. Al prays for his family and talks to them about God. He doesn’t teach Sunday school or go on short-term mission trips. He doesn’t serve on church committees. In fact, most of what the church is concerned about seems removed from Al’s life. The church does not seem especially concerned about him except as a potential laborer. He is part of the 80%.

In reality, there is no 80%. There are only followers of Jesus, dispersed in their various callings and contexts and charged with the task of living for Christ. Some do it well. Some fail. Most muddle through without much encouragement or instruction from the church. When the pastor mentions the 80/20 rule, they hang their heads in shame.