Who Leads the Church?

Questions About Senior Pastors, Denominational Hierarchy, and Professional Ministry

In my last post, I shared eleven questions I have been asking myself about the contemporary church. Today, I want to dig deeper into three of them:

  1. Is the senior pastor a truly biblical role?
  2. Is denominational hierarchy a biblical concept?
  3. Is professionalized ministry the biblical model?

These questions belong together because they all concern leadership—who leads the church, how that leadership is structured, and what leaders are supposed to do.

Once again, I need to acknowledge my complicity. I have been a senior pastor. I have been a district superintendent. I have worked for a denomination. I have received my living from the gospel for most of my adult life. I have not merely participated in these systems. I have benefited from them.

That doesn’t necessarily make the systems wrong. It does mean that I am not casting aspersions. I am questioning structures in which I have spent more than thirty-five years of my life.

Is the Senior Pastor a Truly Biblical Role?

The New Testament certainly recognizes leaders in the church. It speaks of apostles, prophets, evangelists, pastors, teachers, elders, overseers, and deacons.

What I have trouble finding is anything that looks quite like the modern senior pastor.

In many churches, the senior pastor is the primary preacher, chief executive, vision-caster, staff supervisor, fundraiser, institutional manager, public face, and central spiritual authority. That is a lot to place on one person. I know. I have been that person (and I still am).

I have also helped create churches in which too much revolved around me. I was the primary preacher. I was expected to cast the vision. I was the one people called when they needed prayer, counsel, a hospital visit, a decision, or an answer.

Some of that came with the calling. Some of it came with the structure. Some of it probably came from my own need to feel important. That last one is difficult to admit.

The New Testament seems to picture leadership as more shared. Elders are generally spoken of in the plural. Spiritual gifts are distributed throughout the body. Every member has a function. No part can say to another, “I don’t need you.”

Does that mean having a senior pastor is inherently unbiblical? I’m not prepared to say that. But I am prepared to ask what happens when so much authority, visibility, and responsibility become concentrated in one person.

The pastor begins to carry expectations no human can fulfill. Preach well. Lead decisively. Counsel wisely. Visit faithfully. Manage effectively. Grow the church. Resolve conflict. Be available. Keep everyone happy. When the church grows, the pastor receives too much credit. When it declines, the pastor receives too much blame.

The congregation can also become dependent upon the pastor. The pastor prays. The pastor teaches. The pastor visits. The pastor evangelizes. The pastor hears from God and tells everyone else where the church is going. That may create an efficient institution, but does it create a healthy body?

Perhaps the problem is not that churches have senior pastors. Perhaps the problem is that the senior pastor has become the center of gravity around which the congregation revolves. Christ—not the pastor—is the head of the church.

Is Denominational Hierarchy a Biblical Concept?

This question gets even more personal because I have seen denominational connection at its best, and at its worst.

Denominations can provide accountability, theological identity, shared resources, clergy standards, mission partnerships, and opportunities that individual congregations could never provide on their own. I have benefited from all of those things.

And accountability matters to me. When I left one denomination I joined another for that very reason. I suppose that’s why this question causes so much cognitive dissonance for me.

The New Testament church was not simply a loose collection of congregations with no connection or responsibility to one another. Churches shared resources. Leaders traveled among them. The apostles provided instruction and correction. Acts 15 describes leaders gathering to address an issue affecting the wider church.

Connection is biblical. Accountability is biblical. Shared discernment is biblical. But is everything our denominational systems have become biblical?

Boards create agencies. Agencies create offices. Offices develop policies. Policies require administrators. Administrators require budgets. Before long, a structure created to support ministry requires enormous energy simply to support itself.

I understand why many of those structures developed. Heck, I helped administer some of them. They were usually created to solve real problems or accomplish something worthwhile. But every institution eventually develops an instinct for self-preservation.

When does connection become control? When does accountability become bureaucracy? When does theological oversight become institutional gatekeeping? When does preserving the denomination become more important than serving its congregations and advancing the mission?

Denominational structures are not necessarily wrong because we cannot find them outlined in the New Testament. Neither are they sacred simply because we inherited them. They are tools. Tools should be evaluated by whether they still serve their intended purpose.

The local church does not exist to maintain the denomination. The denomination exists to help the church follow Christ and participate in His mission. When that order becomes reversed, something has gone wrong.

The problem? Those on the inside don’t always see the issue. They see themselves as “helping” the church and “fulfilling” the mission. I know because I was one who saw it that way.

Is Professionalized Ministry the Biblical Model?

Let me be clear: Scripture provides for the financial support of those who devote themselves to preaching and teaching.

I am grateful for the churches that have supported my family and me through the years. Their generosity allowed me to devote time and attention to ministry that I could not have given otherwise.

The problem is not that we pay pastors. The problem is that ministry can gradually become something performed primarily by the people who are paid to do it.

We call pastors “ministers,” which can subtly imply that everyone else is something other than a minister. We hire staff to teach, visit, disciple, organize, lead worship, conduct outreach, and administer the church. Eventually, the pastor and staff perform the ministry while everyone else attends, gives, and occasionally volunteers.

Pastors become religious service providers. Church members become their customers. Members expect the professionals to provide good preaching, meaningful worship, pastoral care, children’s ministry, student ministry, and opportunities for the family. If one church does not provide what they want, they can usually find another one that does.

That arrangement may keep the institution operating, but is it the biblical vision of the body of Christ?

Paul wrote that Christ gave apostles, prophets, evangelists, pastors, and teachers “to equip God’s people to do his work and build up the church.” The leaders are not given to do all the ministry for God’s people. They are given to equip God’s people for ministry. There is a significant difference.

Perhaps the measure of a pastor’s ministry is not how much the pastor personally accomplishes. Perhaps it is how effectively the pastor helps people become more like Christ and participate in His mission.

A church can have excellent preaching, polished worship, strong programs, and a large staff while its members remain mostly passive. They can be well served without ever being equipped to serve.

Professional ministry should not relieve the saints of ministry. It should prepare the saints for ministry.

Giving Ministry Away

I am not calling for churches to eliminate senior pastors, dismantle denominations, or stop paying ministry leaders. I am asking whether our structures are accomplishing what they were intended to accomplish.

Does the pastor help people depend more deeply upon Christ, or does the congregation become increasingly dependent upon the pastor? Does the denomination strengthen local churches for mission, or do local churches increasingly exist to maintain the denomination? Does professional ministry equip God’s people to do the work of ministry, or does it quietly teach them to leave ministry to the professionals?

Perhaps faithful Christian leadership can be measured, at least in part, by how willingly it gives ministry away.

Jesus did not gather disciples merely to watch Him work. He taught them, formed them, corrected them, empowered them, and sent them. He gave them real responsibility and invited them to participate in His mission.

The church will always need leaders. But it needs leaders who understand that the goal is not to build ministry around themselves. The goal is to equip the whole body to become more like Christ for the sake of others.

Once again, it appears that my questions only lead to more questions—questions for which I really don’t have answers. I suppose that’s another reason I’m not the perfect pastor.

But that doesn’t keep me from trying…or asking more questions.

Until next time, keep looking up…

11 Questions I’m Asking Myself About the Contemporary Church

Examining the Church We Have and the Church Jesus Intended

I have spent most of my adult life serving the institutional church and I’ve spent much of the past week sitting in institutional meetings. The week was encouraging and uplifting, but it also prompted me to reflect on the “institutional” church as it exists today.

Here is what I’ve been thinking about all week…

For more than thirty-five years, I have preached sermons, led worship services, administered programs, attended meetings, developed budgets, supervised staff, and participated in denominational structures. I have served as a senior pastor. I have served as a district superintendent. I have not only participated in the denominational system; for a season, I worked for the denomination. Even now, I remain an ordained elder serving as the pastor of a local church.

I say all that because I don’t want anyone to misunderstand what follows. I am not standing outside the institutional church throwing rocks at it. I am standing firmly inside it. I have given most of my life to it. I love the church, and I continue to believe the local church can be one of the most beautiful expressions of the body of Christ in the world. But I also know that I have been complicit in fostering some of the very issues I am beginning to question.

I have helped create worship services in which most people watched while a few people participated. I have stood behind the pulpit as the central personality in the room. I have encouraged people to invite their friends to “come hear the preacher.” I have supported budgets that devoted significant resources to staff, buildings, programs, and institutional maintenance. I have participated in denominational systems that sometimes appeared more concerned with preserving the institution than advancing the mission.

I have measured attendance, counted giving, promoted programs, celebrated growth, and worried when the numbers went in the wrong direction. I have sometimes treated a full room as evidence of spiritual success without asking whether the people in that room were actually being formed into the image of Christ.

I am not confessing that everything I have done was wrong. Much of it was done prayerfully, faithfully, and with good intentions. Some of those practices have borne genuine fruit. But good intentions do not place our practices beyond examination.

Neither does the fact that a particular practice is not found explicitly in the Bible make it inherently wrong. The New Testament does not give us a complete operations manual for the twenty-first-century church. It does not tell us what time to gather, how many songs to sing, whether to use a pulpit, how to organize the church office, or what kind of building to occupy. We have freedom to develop structures and practices suited to our time and place.

The question is whether those structures still serve the purposes of the church—or whether the church has gradually begun serving the structures.

A practice does not become biblical simply because churches have done it for a long time. Neither is it necessarily faithful because it attracts a crowd, produces measurable results, or appears successful. Every practice must be examined in light of the character of Jesus Christ, the teaching of Scripture, and the mission Jesus entrusted to His church. That examination has led me to begin asking some uncomfortable questions.

1. Is the senior pastor a truly biblical role?

The New Testament speaks of apostles, prophets, evangelists, pastors, teachers, elders, overseers, and deacons. It certainly recognizes spiritual leadership and entrusts some people with particular responsibilities. But do we find anything resembling the modern senior pastor—the primary preacher, chief executive, public face, institutional leader, and often central personality of the congregation?

The role may not be inherently wrong, but what happens when so much authority, visibility, and responsibility become concentrated in one person?

2. Is the church supposed to be a gathering of non-participants?

Paul describes the church as a body in which every member has a function. He also pictures gatherings in which different members contribute to the life of the community.

How, then, did church become a gathering in which a relatively small number of people perform while everyone else watches? Have we unintentionally taught people that attending church is the same as participating in the body of Christ?

3. Are multisite campuses about growing God’s Kingdom—or the senior pastor’s kingdom?

I know this question sounds pointed, and I do not presume to judge the motives of every pastor or congregation using a multisite model. Heck, I even tried it myself once (to no avail). Multisite churches may reach people who would otherwise remain disconnected from Christian community.

Still, we should be willing to ask why one pastor’s preaching must be broadcast into multiple locations. Are we multiplying churches and leaders, or extending the reach of a particular personality and brand?

4. How biblical is it for more than half of a church’s giving to support buildings, maintenance, upkeep, and staff?

Buildings and staff can serve the mission of the church. Pastors who devote themselves to ministry may rightly receive financial support, and congregations need places in which to gather.

But when much of the church’s financial life is devoted to sustaining its own operations, we should at least ask what remains for mission, mercy, generosity, and ministry beyond ourselves. At what point does maintaining the institution become the institution’s primary mission?

5. When did church gatherings become sermon-centered?

I am a preacher, and I believe preaching matters. The proclamation and teaching of God’s Word have always been central to the church’s life. I’ve often told my congregations that they pay me to be their pastor. I preach for free!

But is a thirty-minute sermon delivered by one person supposed to become the defining feature of Christian worship? How did the sermon come to dominate the gathering while prayer, testimony, conversation, shared discernment, and the Lord’s Supper moved toward the margins?

6. When did the church lose its weekly commitment to the Lord’s Supper?

The earliest Christians appear to have gathered regularly around the table. The breaking of bread was not an occasional addition to worship. It was central to their life together.

How did many Protestant churches move from the Table every week to once a month, once a quarter, or even less frequently? What did we lose when the sermon became weekly but the Meal became optional?

7. Is denominational hierarchy a biblical concept?

Denominations can provide accountability, connection, shared resources, theological identity, and a means of accomplishing ministry that no single congregation could undertake alone. I have benefited from those structures and have worked within them.

But how closely do our layers of boards, agencies, executives, superintendents, bishops, conferences, and administrative offices resemble the leadership structures of the New Testament? When does connection become control? When does accountability become bureaucracy? When does the institution begin protecting itself?

8. Is professionalized ministry the biblical model?

Scripture recognizes that those who preach the gospel may receive their living from the gospel. There is nothing inherently unbiblical about paying pastors or other ministry leaders.

But have we created a system in which the work of ministry is largely outsourced to professionals? Have pastors become religious service providers while church members become their clients? Has professional ministry equipped the saints for ministry—or relieved the saints of ministry?

9. How did we develop such a consumer mentality concerning church?

People shop for churches based on music, preaching, children’s ministries, facilities, style, convenience, and personal preference. Churches respond by marketing programs and attempting to provide increasingly attractive religious experiences.

How did following Jesus become another consumer choice? And how much has the church itself contributed to that mentality by treating people as customers whose preferences must be satisfied?

10. Were early church gatherings limited to one hour?

There is nothing inherently spiritual about a longer gathering. A three-hour service can be every bit as lifeless as a one-hour service.

Still, why has an hour become the accepted limit for worship in so many churches? Why do we become anxious when the service runs long? What does that reveal about the place worship occupies in our lives—and about the kind of experience our gatherings have become?

11. Why is the modern church so afraid of church discipline?

Jesus and the New Testament writers took sin, accountability, restoration, and the holiness of the Christian community seriously. Church discipline was not intended to be cruel, controlling, or punitive. Its goal was truth, repentance, reconciliation, and restoration.

Yet many churches avoid it almost entirely. Are we afraid people will leave? Are we afraid of conflict? Have abuses of authority made us unwilling to exercise any authority? Or have we become so consumer-oriented that we no longer believe the church has the right—or responsibility—to call its members to a life of holiness?

I’m Asking, Not Accusing

I do not have settled answers to all these questions. If I had the answers, I probably would not be writing this series. Or, more likely, I would have already written a book and gone on the speaking circuit.

I am also aware that it is much easier to identify problems than to propose faithful alternatives. Institutional structures developed for reasons. Many of them solved real problems, supported valuable ministries, and helped the church carry the gospel across generations and cultures. Tearing down structures without understanding what they hold together is neither wise nor faithful.

Nor do I believe the solution is simply to reproduce the first-century church. The early church existed in a particular historical and cultural setting. It had problems of its own—many of which are preserved for us in the New Testament. My goal is not to romanticize the past. My goal is to examine the present.

I want to consider what Scripture establishes, what freedom Scripture allows, what benefits our contemporary practices provide, and what unintended distortions they may have produced. I want to distinguish between what is biblically commanded, what is biblically permissible, and what we have simply come to assume.

Most of all, I want to ask whether the church we have built is forming people into the image of Jesus for the sake of others.

I love the church too much not to ask. And because I am part of the church I am questioning, these are not questions I am asking about “them.”

They are questions I am asking about us.

They are questions I am asking about me.

So, I invite you, over the next two weeks, to reflect on these eleven questions with me. In addition to my regular Tuesday posts, I will add two Friday posts to unpack these questions a little more deeply.

I would love your feedback, too. Comment below with any questions these questions raise for you, or feel free to dispute my assumptions. I certainly could be wrong and I invite your correction. Let me hear from you.

Please join me on the journey.

Until next time, keep looking up…

Five Shifts Hurting the Church…

I’ve been doing ministry as a calling for over 35 years now. That doesn’t make me an expert, but it does make me one who has seen a lot. One of the things I’ve seen a lot of is change…and not all of it for the better.

I try mostly to be positive in my blog posts. Unfortunately, that positivity doesn’t always come through because my cynical nature manages to bleed through. I write this post to share a little of the wisdom I’ve picked up over the 35 years of ministry. 

It was coming back into an “official” ministry role (after a brief time away) that I began to notice some subtle shifts in the Church. The shifts were happening before I left full time ministry, but I think I may have been blind to them, and I may have played a role in fostering some of those shifts (I probably did, truth be known). This blog post is my attempt to unpack those shifts, and to say that I believe they are hurting the church. 

So, let’s call this blog post Five Shifts that are Hurting the Church. I won’t belabor them, but I do mention them as a means of starting the conversation with church leaders (if there are any who read my blog) to call us all back to faithfulness in our leadership and our discipleship. Perhaps I offer them as a prophetic word, not sounding an alarm, but simply speaking as one who was deeply engaged, stepped away and returned to notice the shifts.

Brokenness or Sin

The first shift hurting the Church is the Church talks more about “brokenness” than it does about sin. I can’t honestly tell you how many times I’ve personally used the words “broken” and “brokenness” in my sermons when I could have (should have) used the word sin.

Yes, we’re all broken in some manner or another. But, we are also all sinners. When we focus on the brokenness of our humanity, we might too easily overlook the sinfulness of our humanity, and if we overlook the sinfulness of our humanity we might miss the Savior who gave Himself for us. And, if we miss the Savior we miss everything.

See, when something is broken, the most likelihood is that it didn’t break itself. Take a vase, for instance. Vases don’t just jump off shelves and break themselves. The brokenness is the result of something that happened to it. The vase carries no guilt.

In the same way, by constantly referring to ourselves as broken, we fail to acknowledge our own complicity in anything that is wrong with us. Our brokenness, more times than not, is the result of our own sinful choices. There are times when we are broken through no fault of our own. Still, we are guilty.

Here’s why it matters: If I’m simply broken, then I need a therapist or a doctor to mend the brokenness. That might be one reason the philosophy of Moral Therapeutic Deism (MTD) has gained a foothold in the Church. What is that? Basically, God becomes my therapist and the cross becomes a self-help tool.

God exists to help me fix my problems so that I can feel happy about my life and myself. Being a nice person is the only requirement of faith and being good gets one into heaven. The need for repentance is non-existent. We just need the self-help section from the local bookstore. It is a very self-centered religion, but it fits oh, so nicely in American culture.

This is more than a subtle shift in language. It is a total shift in our theology. We are sinners. Sinners need a Savior and the Gospel reminds us that Jesus died for our sins so that we might be reconciled to God through His blood. That’s not to say we don’t all need a little therapy from time to time (I’ve been to therapy myself), but the root problem underlying all the “brokenness” of humanity is sin. The Church must name it and call sinners to repentance so that we might discover the only cure for what really ails us. Let me say it again—sinners need a Savior!

Self-Improvement or Self-Denial

The second shift hurting the Church is we talk too much about self-improvement and not enough about self-denial. Jesus said, “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me” (Mark 8:34). When we come to church seeking self-improvement, we still have self as the focus. Our gathering as the body of Christ puts Him at the center. We are there to worship Him.

We want to come to church to learn how to be a better spouse, or a better parent, or a better whatever. When Christ is at the center, we’ll be better. Basic discipleship begins with self-denial. Jesus doesn’t want a better version of ourselves. He wants a crucified version of ourselves. Self-improvement refines the self. Self-denial replaces the self. Improvement makes us better, but the cross—well, that makes us new.

Comfort or Conviction

The third shift hurting the Church is we’ve chosen comfort over conviction. We live in a culture where comfort is king. We want to be comfortable, and by comfortable, I mean comfortable in our beliefs. We want to come to church to have our beliefs and our behavior affirmed, not challenged. 

And, we in the church have, too often, been willing to oblige. We have, too often, embraced the philosophy that the only thing we can’t tolerate is intolerance. We don’t want to come across as “toxic” because if someone feels convicted, they might feel judged and go to another church down the street. Our problem might be that we don’t understand what conviction is. Conviction isn’t judgement. Conviction is invitation—an invitation to holiness.

Christianity without conviction cannot produce holy people, and a holy people is what we’re called to be. Holy literally means “set apart,” and we are to be set apart from the world. We are not called to reflect the world’s values, but rather the values that are embodied in Jesus Christ and recorded in the pages of the Bible. 

Comfort does not call us to holiness. Comfort keeps us chained to brokenness. Conviction breaks the chains. Sin kills us. Conviction calls us out of our sin. Conviction leads us to repentance. Conviction claims us for the holy life to which we’ve been called. Conviction clarifies the values and behaviors that set us apart from the world.

Atmosphere or Formation

The fourth shift hurting the Church is we chose atmosphere over formation. In our effort to be sensitive to those outside the Church, we made Christianity a commodity to be consumed rather than a lifestyle to be embraced. I’ve confessed my own complicity in this shift in other places.

In my own defense, we had the best of intentions. We used evangelism as the reason. It was an attempt to reach the un-churched so that they would feel “comfortable” hearing the Gospel. What we accomplished was to communicate a false understanding of the purpose of the Church. In this shift we created consumer Christians instead of forming faithful disciples. Atmosphere creates consumers. Worship shapes disciples.

Worship is at the heart of spiritual formation. When the focus is atmosphere, people experience church but are never formed by it. We gather to worship a Holy God as the center and focus. We gather, not to feel good, but to be in the presence of God. Sometimes we feel good because we have been in His presence, but we should leave with a sense of awe and wonder because we have been in His presence.

Worship that is faithful to scripture is God-centered and moves us away from ourselves and reminds us that God is God and we are not. It is meant to remind us of His omnipotence, His omniscience and His omnipresence. In worship, we bring an offering to God, not to receive something from Him. Worship is not entertainment. Worship is formation.

Belonging or Believing

The fifth shift hurting the Church is that we prioritized belonging over believing. We all want to “belong” somewhere. That is human nature. But, when the Church believes, unbelievers encounter Christ in their belonging. We can belong for twenty years and never believe. Belonging provides a comfortable entryway, but believing (transformation) is the goal.

Again, in our defense, we want to practice hospitality. Hospitality is a Christian virtue, and unbelievers should feel welcomed and loved in church. But, our intent is ultimately to love them into a relationship with Jesus Christ, not simply to want them to feel welcomed. 

We can belong to the Rotary Club and the Book Club. We join those clubs because we support their goals and want to participate in the projects that support those goals. We have a common aim in our belonging. Do we belong to those clubs before we understand their purpose? Sometimes, yes, but we soon embrace the goals of the club or we move on.

Why do we expect less in the church? The church is more than a group of warm and open people. It is the community of saints in the world. The believing church functions as a witness to the truth of Jesus Christ when its members are united in that truth. If we simply belong regardless of our belief, the witness of Christ and the church is weakened.

     The Church, as biblically defined, is a supernatural body of believers. Belonging can lead to belief, but when belonging becomes the priority, belief takes a backseat, and the Church ceases to fulfill its purpose in the world—which is to make disciples of Jesus Christ. Discipleship happens through spiritual formation, and Christians are formed through the Church. Belonging matters. Belief is essential.     

These five shifts have influenced the way the Church engaged in ministry over the last 35 years. I’ve written these shifts down as a guide to my own faithfulness in leading the body of Christ. They will also serve as a means of holding my congregation accountable to the purpose for which we’ve been called.

There is much for which we must repent. We, as the Church, must return to faithful discipleship that is rooted in our understanding of our purpose. I spent a lot of years in ministry desiring to be successful. My only desire now is to spend the rest of my years being faithful.

Until next time, keep looking up…