Back in the 1990’s, I attended the same big, wonderful pastor’s conference year after year.
I often showed up at the conference in tough shape physically, for it was always held during the peak days of my “big-time” allergy season. I would cough all night – sleeping in a storeroom at times so as to not bother my roommates – and stumble around the campus each day looking for strong coffee and quiet corners to hide in.
On more than one occasion I also showed up in bad shape emotionally, having struggled through some painful and draining pastoral trial during the previous year.
I wasn’t a hopeless introvert (I’ve seen worse) but during the plenary sessions in particular, where the speakers seemed to always speak so directly to me that I thought they’d been watching videos of my life, I’d sit way up in the balcony all by myself. I didn’t want to be anywhere near anybody else from my church or any pastor buddy either as I let those hard and healing words wash over my soul. It was a solitary, emotional ritual.
While I don’t think I was pastoring a bad church at the time, it often felt like it to me and I’m sure there were pastors around me – also up there in the nose-bleed section – who were going through some genuinely awful pastoral experiences.
……………………………………
So I’ve just written two posts on the painful problem of God sending pastors to what they perceive as being “bad churches.” If you’ve been there, or thought you were there, or if you’re serving there right now, these posts have your name written all over them.
Here are the possibilities we’ve explored so far. I’ll share two more today and wrap this up with two more next week:
Possibility #1 – Maybe it just happened. See this post for the details.
Possibility #2 – Maybe you didn’t do your “due diligence.” See this post for the details.
Possibility #3 – Maybe you were simply a bad match for the church. See this post for the details.
Possibility #4 – Maybe it really was a bad church, but God allowed all that dysfunction to refine your character. See last week’s post for the details.
Possibility #5 – Maybe your bad church experience was about teaching you a very specific lesson. See last week’s post for the details.
Possibility #6 – Maybe you were “assigned” to the church to knock some very rough edges off a seriously troubled congregation.
Biblical history contains some dramatic examples of rough-edged characters – I previously mentioned the Jehu of II Kings 9 – who were used by God as scourges, disciplinarians, punishing personalities, for His own good purposes.
I’m not necessarily implying that you were chosen by God for the task because you were a rough or crude character yourself.
But I’m not necessarily ruling out that possibility either.
It’s just possible that someday you’re going to realize that the “Pastor _______” of 2026 or 2024 – the guy you are today or the guy you were a couple of years ago – was a seriously flawed character, whom God used, in spite of his flaws.
But I’m going to leave that possibility for now, because, quite frankly, if that really is the case, you’re probably not going to “see it” today, even if I was your best friend who observed everything you did and told you about it gently over a fabulous dinner which I paid for. You’re just not going to be able to come to grips with that for a while. Possibly not for decades.
I just recently apologized to a Christian lady who briefly attended my church plant forty-four years ago. I know that I meant well at the time, but I behaved ever-so awkwardly, and for forty-four years I did not realize that any part of our conflict was my fault.
But when I saw the pain in her eyes a few weeks ago, as she realized who I was, it made me reconsider my behavior way back there in the last millennium. After some serious thought and prayer, I knew that I needed to write a careful letter of apology. I hadn’t meant to hurt her, but I did. It wasn’t just her overactive imagination either; my words and actions had actually wounded her heart.
And in case you’re wondering, I didn’t write anything about her bad behavior and harsh words from forty-four years ago, I only mentioned my own, for I’m 100% responsible for my behavior, and not at all responsible for her behavior.
But getting back to you guys who don’t believe you have anything to apologize for, it’s just possible that God used your leadership to confront issues that needed confronting, push for changes that were long overdue or challenged power brokers who were desperately in need of being disempowered.
The fact that you didn’t survive the pastorate any longer than you did doesn’t mean that you actually did anything wrong; maybe you did everything right.
A fine Christian woman recently told my wife that though her former pastor’s tenure was very short and ended badly, she personally felt that it was “good” for both the pastor and the church.
If you’re sure that you handled yourself well, dust yourself off and try again.
If you’re not so sure that you handled yourself well, learn the lessons (which your former members would love to talk to you about), make some changes, dust yourself off and try again.
No offense to insurance salespersons – they’re usually wonderful people – but if God has called you to be a pastor, don’t become an insurance salesperson; some church out there needs you.
Possibility #7 – Perhaps you were given a strange and painful way of glorifying God.
I wrote earlier (the post was dated April 9, 2026, and you can read it by clicking here) regarding the possibility of a congregation calling a “bad pastor” for this very reason.
Bear with me as I repeat what I wrote with a few adaptations:
The experience of the Apostle Paul demonstrates that sometimes God wants to display His strength and glory in the homely and empty vessel of our weakness (II Corinthians 12:1-10). There’s nothing quite so weak, weary and helpless as the pastor – formerly proud perhaps – who has just suffered the devastation of a disastrous pastorate.
Stranger still, the experience of Job demonstrates that there are times of suffering through which God wants us to glorify Him by our response of love and trust. The suffering Job wasn’t being punished for his sin. His knuckleheaded friends said that he was, but he wasn’t. The whole messy affair was simply an opportunity for Job to glorify God with a worshipful response. We’re pleased to say that while Job didn’t do that perfectly, he did it well enough for God to be pleased and to bless his servant richly in the end.
Is it possible that this was God’s plan for your current or former pastorate?
Is it possible that the only thing you can or could have accomplished in your bad pastorate – and this is no small thing – was/is to glorify God with your godly response to the ungodly behavior of others?
And is it possible that God will bless you in the near or not-so-near future with the kind of abundant blessings He showered on Job? I think He just may do that.
Next Week: My last two reasons why God may have sent you – a good pastor – to serve a “bad church.”
