church leaders are vulnerable

Speaking in real life terms, shepherds and sheep are independent entities. Sure, you might find them lurking in the same field, but whether from near or afar, you’d hardly confuse them. A shepherd is not a sheep and the four legged cud-chewer is clearly not a shepherd.

But in the stream of biblical thinking the same can’t quite be said.  Shepherds are sheep; and some of the sheep are shepherds.  The category of shepherd – a spiritual leader of the flock – is common parlance throughout the Bible (Ezekiel 34, Jeremiah 3:15, John 21:17, 1 Tim 3:1-2, 1 Peter 5:2, Hebrews 13:17). Christ is the Chief Shepherd and his under-shepherds assist him in sheep care (1 Peter 5:1-4).

Yet this is where the twist comes. The shepherd of Christ’s flock is also part of it. They are one of the sheep who has gone astray (Isaiah 53:6) and part of the number for which the Shepherd died (John 10:15). A man may play the role of a shepherd but he never departs his place in the flock. Like the rest, he exclaims with personal assurance: “the Lord is my shepherd” (Psalm 23:1).

This simultaneous reality – that the shepherd is also sheep – is something we must hold in healthy tension. The term ‘shepherd’ reminds us of the leader’s responsibility. The term ‘sheep’ reminds us of his vulnerability. A shepherd is a role of strength. It involves leading, feeding and protecting. A sheep by contrast is vulnerable. Every sheep can succumb to suffering, or stray down an unwise path.

Reasons to consider vulnerability

As creatures and sinners I would argue that church leaders are always vulnerable. But to stress the immediacy of this, let me offer two stark reasons to consider the subject.

First, the growing number of church leaders who appear to be shipwrecking their ministries. Immorality, greed and doctrinal defection are hardly new phenomena (2 Samuel 11, Matthew 23:25, 2 Peter 2:1-3).  But contemporary examples seem to be multiplying. Whether it’s big respected names or pastors only known locally, too many ministries are leaving a stench in their wake. The growing prevalence of abusive styles of leadership – whether by paid pastors or their fellow elders – is a worrying trend.¹ If these examples don’t cause us to look hard at ourselves, I don’t know what will.

Second, the growing pressures on church leaders as they shepherd their churches through the global pandemic.  There is a deadly combination here of ‘more and less.’ There is more pastoral need than ever and more problems to resolve as a leadership team. Yet as more is continually demanded, the support church leaders receive has often been less. While marvellous attempts have been made to organise online support, the loss of face to face encouragement has been significant. At this point in time, church leaders have never been so vulnerable to the twin threats of suffering and sin.

SEVEN COMMON VULNERABILITIES

So what are some of the common vulnerabilities? In the list that follows (not exhaustive!) I’ll suggest what I think are seven of the most frequent. All of these have sadly featured at times in my own flawed leadership. They are also observations I have made of others, and the sort of thing I want to forewarn a new elder about as they enter the leadership arena.

1/ Positional pride (I have made it). A strange thing can happen when a person rises to prominence. They can morph from a humble servant into a self-assured proudling. Here the man makes his leadership position the general measure of his spiritual standing. He frequently and happily reminds himself of ‘who he is’ in relation to others. Such pride may not always ‘strut’ but is often more subtle and insidious. It can manifest, for example, in him becoming far too sure of each and every one of his personal opinions. Everyone must agree with him, listen to him and respect him no matter what. After all, he is “the pastor”, “the elder” etc.

2/ Projecting godliness (I can’t be honest). This is the next step to the previous danger. If we think that we have made it, we will start to act like it. We will project godliness. Now, one would hope that church leaders would unconsciously emanate godly character. But there is a difference between this emerging from a man, and it being projected by him. There is all the difference in the world between a man who is praying to God, and one praying to make an impression on his listeners (Luke 18:11). Similarly, we could ask our families the question: does the “godly” man in church bear any resemblance to the man we engage with at home?

3/ Unnecessarily defensive (I can’t be challenged). When a leader is projecting a spiritual image they will not take kindly to a critical comment. Granted, church members can be unfair and unkind in their assessments of us. But just as common a flaw are leaders who act like they are above criticism. Such a leader doesn’t listen to the critic but always responds with an immediate ‘comeback.’ (Sometimes this involves turning the tables on the critic in some way and pointing out their failings).  Such a leader is always angry when they are criticised and will tend to throw others under the bus to save their own reputation being tarnished.

4/ Discouragement (I can’t keep going).   Facing times of discouragement goes with the territory of Christian leadership. People wander away from the faith and the church. Individuals continue to squabble, despite your best efforts to help them see eye to eye. Evangelistic fruit seems little. Your own performance as a church leader disappoints you, nevermind anybody else!

5/ Burnout (I can’t stop or rest). Church leaders are some of the busiest people on the planet. This is especially true of non-church staff who juggle their jobs, family’s and a substantial church commitment. Being an elder isn’t something that fits into one time slot – like serving at the coffee morning on a Wednesday. And because we love people, we can find ourselves trying to fix them.  Before long we’re trying to be everyone’s Saviour; something we would admit, Jesus is much better at than us (!). Slowly and inevitably, as we suffer from ‘hero syndrome’, we move ourselves further down the road to one destination. Burnout.

6/  Overly controlling  (I can’t let others set the agenda). There’s nothing wrong with a strong personality, but it’s something of a red flag when a leader seems to get his own way every time. This sort of leadership micromanages everyone. This includes the other leaders, who need to follow my personal agenda. I use my personality, emotional pressure or personal loyalty to get people on side. I either withdraw or attack those who disagree with me. They soon learn not to dissent from me again.

7/ Ministry production (I start to see people as frustrations and obstacles, not as those I love and serve). When I started out as a young preacher, I think I was more passionate about the sermon than about the people I was preaching it to. An older gentleman in my church identified the problem. He took me aside one day and said “Colin – don’t forget that it’s about people.”  That sage advice often rings in my ears.  Whenever I feel frustrated by someone I remember that they are the very reason I am in ministry. People are not obstacles; they are those that God loves, those who I am called to serve.

we’re vulnerable – so now what? 

So far I’ve majored on diagnosis, and you might think I’ve been pretty scant on remedy. I guess it is easier to expose the problems than to deal with their underlying causes. However I want to offer some practical thoughts on creating a more self-aware and gospel shaped leadership culture. These suggestions are not just for individual leaders but for the whole leadership team.

Talk and pray in such a way that alludes to your vulnerability as leaders. This isn’t about airing all of our dirty laundry. It’s not talking at length about our every struggle and mentioning them in every prayer or conversation. But church leaders should make it clear by what they say that they don’t have everything ‘sorted.’ We do struggle with pride. We can succumb to temptation. Our tongue gets out of control at times. We need ongoing grace, forgiveness and transformation.

Ask for prayer, as well as offer it. Of course we should spend much of our pastoral time praying for people and asking them what to pray for. But asking others to pray for us is a Pauline pattern (Romans 15:30-33; 2 Corinthians 1:10-11; Ephesians 6:19-20; Philippians 1:19-20; Colossians 4:2-4; 1 Thessalonians 5:25; 2 Thessalonians 3:1-2; Philemon 22). Such a request expresses our own vulnerability, the great need we have for God’s help.

Consider ‘structures’ for pastoring each other. It is great when leadership teams support each other organically. But in the fast paced world we live in, some structure may be needed to ensure mutual support. In my own church, our elders are part of a leadership pair. The pair meet 3 times a year to discuss where we are spiritually and how we are coping with the demands and temptations of leadership.

Do something together that is just for growth. Read books together. Go to a conference. Have outside input from another church leader or organisation, just to learn. If the eldership team aren’t doing such things, it may suggest a ‘posture’ of unteachability.

Analyse the test case of conflict in your leadership team.  Conflict reveals a great deal your leadership culture.  Bear in mind that no conflict is a bad thing. There must always be room for healthy disagreement among leaders. Instead, we should ask questions like: how do people disagree? Do people ‘fight fair’?² Are some leaders unable to accept when they find themselves on the losing side of a discussion? Are there ongoing tensions in the aftermath, or are things resolved with generosity and forgiveness?

Keep applying the gospel to yourself as leaders. By this I don’t just mean that we should believe the gospel in a notional sense. We must relate the gospel to our view of leaders specifically. The gospel declares that we are sinners, so we  shouldn’t be surprised to find that in our own hearts as leader’s. But the gospel also proclaims freedom, forgiveness and hope. We can fearlessly face up to our sins because God is able to cover them and to increasingly empower us to turn  from them.

Conclusion

God is well aware that even shepherds need shepherding. He understands better than we do that shepherds are sheep. I have long thought it telling that the New Testament contains so much material specifically directed towards leaders.³ Since the shepherds are also sheep, they also need fed, protected and encouraged. The call not only to watch over the flock, but to oversee own’s own soul (Acts 20:28) seems as loud and as relevant as ever. 

(This article is an adaptation of a discussion/talk I had with a group of church leaders in January 2021. The examples it gives and focus tends to be on church pastors and elders. But there are principles here that apply more widely to leadership at all different levels across the church).

¹ Paul Tripp’s recent book Lead is worth reading in conjunction with his prior work Dangerous Calling. Dangerous Calling describes the dangers full time pastor’s face, while Lead looks at the wider leadership culture in which the pastor serves. Both can be problematic and unhealthy leadership can be just as present among the wider elders, and their power bases, as can be an issue for the set aside pastor.

² Check out the article: “How to fight right” for more on this. 2019-09-16-how-to-fight-right-tripp.pdf (csmedia1.com)

³ Consider the time Jesus invested in the apostles, the future leaders of his church. Note that out of Paul’s thirteen letters, three of them were written directly to those in leadership. We are also struck by the fact that Peter, an experienced leader, needed to be rebuked by Paul when he was acting out of line with the gospel (Galatians 2:14).

 *Warning: this article may be laced with a heavy dose of sarcasm*

Welcome to my Disaster Class in the ‘art’ of preaching blunt sermons! Having been a regular practioner of pointless sermons, I am thoroughly qualified to coach those less initiated in these matters. Follow these steps and I personally guarantee you, your sermon application will at least be bad, if not be a total bust!   Bear in mind, too, that there are no less, or more, than seven points. Do I even need to say that you can trust this as the final word on the subject?

1. Intepret the text wrong. This is a great place to start! As everyone knows, faithful application of the passage begins with faithful interpretation.¹ But this ‘study thing’ is a whole lot of work! So grab a latte, Preacher; close those headache-inducing commentaries. Stop sweating about those passages and what they mean! I reckon that 7 times out of 10, you’ll get the meaning of the passage right anyway with only a quick skim.

2. Ignore application or minimise it. The best bit about this one is that we can sound spiritual while doing less work! Assume then that the Spirit will do the application ‘for’ you. (Doesn’t the Spirit apply God’s Word to the human heart?²). If you must include application, why not consign it to being ‘tagged on at the end.’ Whatever you do, don’t see the whole message as a word from God to save, sanctify and equip people to serve! (2 Timothy 3:14-17).

3. Springboard quickly from the text to whatever you want to speak about. Is the subject prayer? Great! Leap off into a rant about whatever aspect of the church’s prayer life is bothering you at the moment!  Ignore what this specific text is saying about prayer. That way, your thoughts on prayer will be heard, not the Bible’s.

4. Be general, vague and samey in your sermon applications. Don’t allow the text to push you towards areas of application that are fresh or helpful. Especially stay away from applications that the church may not want to hear (hint: subjects like money, use of the tongue, anything to do with the heart). Keep the applications in a general territory! ‘Read your Bible’, ‘pray every day’ and ‘evangelise more’ are the basic touch points here. Or my personal favourite: just finish with the line… ‘Go and do likewise, Amen!’

5. Think that application always equals doing. You should always be able to tell people what to do, and how to do at. As prescriptively as possible! Let’s ignore that the New Testament itself is not always prescriptive in the how of application. And let’s conveniently forget that application involves our thoughts and desires, as well as our actions.

6. Let’s only apply in ways that suit our temperament. Are we the gentler, comforting type? Then tame those texts that seem a bit too challenging! Apologise to the congregation that the Bible might be a bit “heavy” or “strong” this morning. Are we an in-your-face, prophetic type? Are we never more happy than when wagging a finger? Then let’s find ways of turning even the most comforting texts into a “challenge.” Even Psalm 23 can be used to crush those wayward sheep (if we ignore its entire tone, content and purpose)!

7. Apply without any reference to Jesus. This is the most important point, if we want to completely undermine a sermon’s usefulness! Leave Jesus out when we apply the message, and people will be wondering whether they just sat through a Christian message at all! In addition, people will feel discouraged and overwhelmed. Having been dispirited in their failure to apply God’s word, they will have no gospel-comfort to lift them from despondency! Added into the bargain, they won’t know the encouragement and power that the gospel brings to our obedience. All in all, if you fail to do recommendations 1 to 6, just do 7 and you’ll render your sermon completely ineffective.

Yours truly,

The Pointless Preacher

¹ Though hopefully what you say will still be ‘biblically’ true – in a wider sense. 

² The Spirit, of course, applies God’s Word, but this didn’t stop New Testament preachers to calling for repentance, faith and obedience to specific commands.

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Shifting my weight from foot to foot, with all the uncertainty befitting a novice, I said goodbye to the faithful as they exited “the Chapel.”¹ I was dazed in the manner that every preacher is, five minutes post benediction – when you can’t compute where you are or quite how you got there.

I extended a sweaty hand to anyone feeling generous. What entered my grasp however was not a hand, but a note.

The stranger instantly scarpered, leaving me to uncrumple the curious parchment. In seconds I had read her raggedly written review:

“Too many points. Your headings – not distinct enough. You need to put in FAR MORE effort before you preach!” 

For patently obvious reasons, that feedback has stuck in my unsticky memory. Yet on countless other occasions (‘at many times and in various ways’!) my sermons have been on the receiving end of critique.

What shall we say then?

Jars Of Clay

Let’s start by readily admitting that our sermons are often worthy of criticism. We’re not trying to get things wrong (indeed we’re all too aware of a stricter judgement upon bible teachers). But inevitably and often, we do fall short of the expository mark. It may be factual mistakes, interpretative errors² or some lack in clarity or delivery.³ God’s Word is perfect – his human messengers, not so much! 

Effusive praise of sermons then is almost always unwarranted  (praise is not the same thing as encouragement).  It’s probably also the case that many sermons aren’t as bad as some critics attest. The two common categories – ‘brilliant’ or ‘bad’ – are a far too frequent comment in the aftermath of sermons. In most evangelical churches, most sermons are faithful but fallible attempts to proclaim God’s gloriously infallible word. It is by God’s astounding grace that he uses such weak and feeble instruments as human preachers.

The Blessing Of Critics

So how might a sermon-critic be a blessing to the preacher of the word?

To begin with, they not only aid the herald’s preaching (sometimes); they encourage their sanctified progress  (always). How an expositor responds to criticism reveals not just the condition of their sermons, but their hearts. Pride, people-pleasing and placing my identity in ministry, are often graciously exposed when I chafe at a critical comment upon my preaching. Whether the critic is right or wrong is – in one sense – immaterial. What emerges from the sewer of my heart is often far more telling! 

Second, critics play their part because they help me assess the people to whom I am preaching. Biblical preaching is unchanging in content – but the context into which we preach is particular and variable. I need to know who I am speaking to. And for that, I need to listen. This means not just hearing feedback from the most theologically knowledgeable members, but from the average punter in the pew. Are they able to follow me? Is my preaching connecting with them?  (And if not, why not?). 

Further, when the same criticism comes from multiple people, my ears  tend to prick up. If a handful of people thought that illustration was unhelpful – or if several tell me that my conclusion went ’round and round’  – I will usually take that to heart and seek to learn from it.

I also try to bear in mind that when someone disagrees with an aspect of my sermon, they are not necessarily disagreeing with all of it! There’s a difference!

Building Up, Not Tearing Down

If we are the givers of feedback, how can we do it wisely?

a) I think it’s generally unhelpful to give strong critique in the immediate aftermath of a message. The preacher has just preached his soul out. In most cases, they have given God and the church their very best offering. They are exhausted, vulnerable and, don’t forget, human. It’s  good to bear this in mind if we’re planning on speaking the truth in love!  If we  offer critique, we should ensure that we say some positive things as well (if there are any!).

b) It’s worth considering too whether a criticism that could be given, always should be given. The wise parent will not ‘pick up’ on every infraction of a child. They know that there are times to cover over sin – for wisdom’s sake and sanity. And there are also times to check it. An overly long sermon conclusion, for example, may be a characteristic pattern – or it may just be a bad day at the office! A one-off story that seems to paint the preacher a bit too favourable might be the beginning of a pattern, or it may be just a one-off.

c) Be stronger in critiquing the substance of a message than the style. Not that style is unimportant but it is often linked to personality and preferences. We might not like non-linear sermons, without clear development of logic. We might struggle with preachers who are somewhat more Johanine than Pauline in their approach. But as long as the preacher is faithful to Christ and the text, we should critique their style farless than their substance. After all, we’re trying to encourage preachers; not create an army of ‘expository clones’! 

d) Pre-sermon feedback is even better than after the fact. Critique afterwards cannot improve the sermon preached! But evaluation before can lead to adjustments. This being the case, I often let my wife pre read my sermons. I also tend to’ ‘talk through’ my message with several other people during the week.

e) We need to examine our hearts when we’re giving critical feedback. Why are we doing it? Is it out of love for the person? Is it fortheir good and the congregations? Or am I trying to look clever, to put the preacher in his place, or avoid the challenge of the sermon?

The Feedback That Matters Most

There is a kind of feedback that we never ought to listen to. It’s that call to change the message because it seems too hard, too miraculous, too out of step with culture, or too narrowly exclusive. If the preacher preaches God’s Word, not everyone will want to hear them – and criticism will come. Yet we mustn’t see everyone as a devil who seeks to lovingly and truthfully critique!

And never forget too, that while we work hard at our sermons, we are not justified by them. The perfect homiletical construction never saved our soul, or anyone else’s. Sticking to Jesus and his word, the gospel in the Spirit’s power, is what will inevitably bring about the increase.

¹ Charlotte Baptist Chapel in Edinburgh.

² No less than Mark Dever tweeted this week that one of his elders picked him up on some interpretive errors he made in a sermon regarding John the Baptist. https://twitter.com/MarkDever/status/1168577165459431424?s=19

³ I once said in a sermon something along the lines of “God intends to harm you”, when I actually had meant to say “Satan.” In the context of what I’d been saying, it was hopefully clear to the congregation what I had meant. They were gracious. (And I only found out afterwards from my wife!)

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Some of my sermon preparation doesn’t look like preparation.  In all honesty it can look rather like walking.

I’m doing this more and more: going for a gander, Thursdays, in a verdant country park. Among the dog walkers and grounds maintainers, there I am wandering the paths of Pollok.

To the uninitiated, I look like a man on a morning stroll. I might be noticed to be glancing at my phone, or muttering under my breath, but the true purpose of my walk is probably obscure.

What I’m actually doing is biblical meditation. Having read myself full on my subject, I’m looking over my notes¹ and starting to wrestle. This is like the part in the baking process where the dough is being kneaded. The ingredients are all there, but before you can bake the finished product, you need to ‘work’ them.

This is where I’m especially praying for insight. “Lord, help me see what you’re saying to us through this text!” “Father help me apply this – to myself and to others.”

This is where I’m asking questions. What is the central truth I need to communicate? What will be the sermon’s structure? What will be the order, the flow of the message?

And after I’ve asked these questions, I ask even more questions.  How might I introduce all this? What needs to be explained, and what doesn’t? What does it say to the young, the old, the sad, the joyful, the encouraged, the discouraged, the believer and the unbeliever?

• I churn. I ponder. I ruminate. And as I mull things over, a conflagration of things start to happen. They don’t come in a particular order. They just emerge, somewhat at random, from my mind.
• I see the point I really must start with.
• I glimpse a “connection to Christ” that makes my heart sing.
• Proportions start to emerge – I see what is significant, and what might be less so.
• Lines from hymns come to me.
• I’m reminded of an incident from my own life that illustrates a point in the passage.
• I remember a book that has a great section on this topic.
• I see a connection between something happening in this week’s news and the text.
• I think of a person in the congregation for whom a certain point may be close to the bone.
• I think of another for whom a certain verse will be a particular comfort.
• Then suddenly, a flash of creativity. A phrase comes – a powerful way to capture the whole sermon.
• A ‘way in’ to the talk comes to me, or a structure that seems to be simple and unforced. (This is the 1% of inspiration that accompanies the 99% perspiration!)
• I pause and praise God! The help of his Spirit!

As I return to my office an hour later, it may look like I’ve gone for a walk.² What has really transpired is an important stage in my sermon prep. I have thought the sermon over in my own mind. I have started to build a bridge between study and sermon. When I sink back into my chair, I’m ready to write a sermon plan. As I return to my blank screen I now have something to write. I have direction! The embryo of a sermon!

¹ The notes compiled from my exegesis and commentary reading on a Tuesday and Wednesday.

² As an alternative in colder months I either wander up and down the church aisles, or stand and write on the whiteboard as I meditate upon the passage.

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In the last church I served I often preached for 45 minutes. One time when I fell short of that mark a dear brother encouraged me to “give us a little more.” From that point onward, I frequently did.

Now just for the record, I’m not against 45 minute sermons. I’m not against them, any more than I’m against a 60 minute preach; or one that’s done and dusted in 20 flat. Despite what people tell you there isn’t a rule about sermon length.

What needs to be applied is wisdom – something that is always more complicated than law. There are a nexus of considerations  (the cultural context, the preacher’s ability, the passage – to name but a few) that may be factors in deciding what duration might be edifying.

But let me come totally clean. Since returning to Glasgow, I’ve reduced my time in the pulpit. I preach for around 30 minutes. OK, sometimes it’s more like 35 (I’m verbose), but I do try to manage it.

Now depending on your perspective, that either sounds painfully long or restrictively short. I can say with some confidence, that there is a desire in our church to hear God’s Word. But I also think we value preachers getting to the point.

Not waffling is seen as a virtue. Tangents are seen as a vice. Overwhelming the listener with verbosity is not the goal of regular preaching.

So how have I (and the church?) benefitted from me preaching shorter sermons?

Less intrusive intros

Back in days gone by, I could have spent 5 to 7 minutes on an intro. These grand sermon entrances took oodles of time to construct. They were the most time consuming part of my  sermon prep, yet they arguably added little to my message.

In some cases, they may have even been a distraction. (Do extended intros perhaps subtly give the impression that there is something more interesting to say than what is in the text?). Though I still see the value of introductions, I now follow ‘the one paragraph or two’ rule before getting to the sermon body.  Intros should introduce, not intrude upon the message! 

Commentating less, summarising more

Some of my past sermons probably sounded like a verbal commentary. Though I’ve never preached ‘verse by verse’, I’ve often been explanation heavy. The background would need to be unpacked. The details  would have to be analysed so that we would know as much about the passage as humanly possible.

Of course I still believe that context matters, and I am sold on examining some of the details in the text. But having less time to preach has forced me to prioritise. And I’m learning from experience that not everything needs to be explained. Nor is everything equally important. In fact, the big truths of a passage can sometimes be lost in our comprehensive commentary!

Less controversy

Because of the shortage of time there is little scope for excurses into controversy. Don’t get me wrong: I sometimes take 5 minutes on a difficult matter. If the issue is important enough, I will lay out different interpretive views and then explain my own. But with many bible passages this is just not possible. When recently I preached on Revelation 11 I found that almost every verse was disputed! You can’t in 30 minutes get into the thick of every issue.

The upside, however, is that sermons don’t get stuck in an interpretive quagmire. At the end of the day we are preaching passages, not debating them. If I want to say more about an issue, I may encourage people to ask me questions afterwards.  I might recommend a book or maybe write a blog post!

More application

You’d assume that preaching for longer would guarantee more sermon application. But this isn’t always the case. I actually reckon I’m taking more time these days in showing the passages’ significance. Better summary and selectivity leaves more space for the ‘so what’ question.

As I recently listened to some of my favourite bible teachers, I was surprised by how much time they spent applying. Part of the blessing of gifted preachers is that they explain things concisely. They leave enough space to show the relevance of the text. Application, paradoxically, is something that shorter sermons may help us do better.

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