Why Can't the Church Just Get Along? A Review of Redeeming Church Conflicts

Perhaps nothing is more stressful to a pastor's wife than a conflict within the church. Not only does she have the heart-wrenching experience of seeing her Christian sisters, spiritual mothers, and precious daughters-in-the-faith quarrel and fight with one another; not only does she hear murmurings (or, worse, sudden silences) as she walks down the hall on Sunday mornings; not only does she have to carefully guard her own tongue and actions at every minute to promote peace and avoid escalating the problem; she also helplessly watches conflict's toll on the church's pastor, her beloved husband.

Thankfully, over my years in various churches, the conflicts have been few. But every church faces conflict to some degree, and each of us could use help to navigate those situations.

This is why I was so thankful to receive a copy of Redeeming Church Conflicts: Turning Crisis into Compassion and Care by Tara Klena Barthel and David V. Edling. This recent reprint (it was originally published by Baker in 2012) is a gift to the church for its clarity and biblical wisdom.  

To someone in the middle of a church conflict, the complex knot of spiritual and material issues, contributing factors, and personalities can appear impossible to understand, let alone untangle. As emotions rise and hope sinks, everyone in the church experiences distress, and, amid the confusion and hurt, a positive path forward often seems unclear. In this book, Barthel and Edling (both experienced conciliators/mediators) offer a warm, biblical, and careful roadmap for navigating church crises.

Although we might be tempted to think of church conflict in terms of the immediate crisis (or what Barthel and Edling call "the presenting issues"), the authors encourage us to see conflict through the lens of God's bigger purposes for his church:

"Redeeming church conflict is less about resolving specific problems than it is about seeing conflict as a means by which God is growing his people into true saints, true eternal children who are being continuously conformed to this holy image." 

While not ignoring the specific, material concerns that are the public face of church conflict, the authors very helpfully remind readers that much more is actually at stake. Lest we begin to think the expensive new building project, the Sunday school curriculum, or the feuding individuals are the biggest issue we need to consider--and then "solve"--they constantly point us to the greater importance of God's glory and the good of our neighbor.

Only with this eternal perspective can churches begin to untangle the knot of obvious issues. To do this, each chapter uses the pattern of the church in the book of Acts (especially Acts 15) combined with specific contemporary examples from the authors' mediation cases to define and illuminate a path toward church healing.  Readers of material from Peacemaker Ministries will recognize many of the same helpful principles, applied here to a church setting.

As a pastor's wife, I was particularly challenged by the authors' reminder that no one is "neutral" in a church conflict. As righteous (and safe) as it might sound to say, "I'm just staying out of it," Barthel and Edling admonish their readers: "You are either part of the solution or part of the problem--there can be no fence-sitting. Avoidance may feel better in the short term, but it will never help any of the people involved to grow in grace. . . ."

Perhaps surprisingly for a book about sin and its fruits, these pages are filled with hope. Through the words of Barthel and Edling, church members and leaders will begin to see their conflicts as opportunities for the glory of God. And whether your church is currently in the midst of strife or proactively seeking to avoid it in future, this book is an excellent guide.

____
Barthel, Tara Klena and David V. Edling. Redeeming Church Conflicts: Turning Crisis into Compassion and Care Reprint: Hendrickson, 2016.

What to Say When You Don't Have the Whole Story

Recently, I got an email from a casual acquaintance. Among other things, he mentioned that he had recently been terminated from his position with a Christian ministry. 

From such a distance—both location and relationship—it was impossible for me to understand the issues which contributed to his situation. Was he wrongly terminated? Or was he the guilty one? I simply could not know. 

 And yet, our correspondence required me to reply, and I could hardly ignore what was obviously an important and life-changing matter for him. What could I say? 

Frequently, in Christian ministry, we are told about a situation and are invited to make a response. And often we know only one small part of the whole story. 

A person gives what seems to be an extended (and possibly biased) list of wrongs someone else has done. Another person only tells part of the story to avoid exposing someone else’s sin. 

Proverbs warns against making a quick judgment without information: 

"The one who states his case first seems right, until the other comes and examines him." (Prov. 18:17) 

"If one gives an answer before he hears, it is his folly and shame." (Prov. 18:13)

Sometimes, we are able to pursue the subject. If both parties are within our circles, we can get more information, assist them to pursue biblical conflict resolution, and offer help to everyone involved. But, as with my out-of-work acquaintance, some situations and relationships will never disclose the full story. 

So what can you say—over email or coffee or Sunday’s fellowship lunch—when you cannot have the whole story? 

I’m sorry. 

Sin makes us sorrowful. And if there is sin in a situation, no matter whose sin it is, you can truthfully say you are sorry. A church member loses his job because his Christian convictions are distasteful to his employer? Then, “I’m sorry to hear that.” A church member loses his job because he failed to show up three shifts in a row? Then, too, “I’m sorry to hear that.” 

Thank you. 

Maybe, as in the case of the email I received, the best reply is “thank you for your years of service.” Maybe it’s “thank you for being such a good friend to her in this hard time” or “thank you for being concerned.” Sometimes, all you can say is “thank you for being here.” 

Let’s pray. 

Our Lord knows the whole story even when we do not, and we can pray with humility and confidence for him to work. Together, we can ask him to vindicate the righteous, convict the sinning, reconcile the estranged, and exalt his Son. Prayer is also a great equalizer—forcing each of us to admit our limitations and to cry out in dependence on our sovereign God. When we don't know the whole story, we can together ask for help.

And that's something to which we can all say, "Amen."

Our Tears in His Bottle (A Review of A Heart Set Free)

“You are very good at speaking truth, Megan.” 

From my end of the phone line I could picture my friend’s raised eyebrows, and I knew she hadn’t meant her statement in a good way. She had interrupted me just as I was in the middle of answering her “How are you doing?” with a theology lesson: “Well, God is in control of my life . . . His plans are perfect . . . This will all work out for his glory.” 

I am good at speaking truth. (Which isn’t all bad. More on this later.) And I’m even good at making room for other people’s emotions. But what I’m not always so good at is answering direct questions about how I’m doing. If I answered honestly, I might break down and cry or, worse, allow someone to think I don’t really trust the Lord. 

I do trust Him. Most of the time. I think. 

I picked up Christina Fox’s new book, A Heart Set Free, then, as a habitual truth-speaker who would rather ignore her emotions than invite them to come out of hiding and swallow her whole. Fox’s own background—as a counselor and someone who herself suffers from depression—means she often writes from the opposite perspective: a woman who has already been swallowed by her emotions and is now trying to get free. But I believe both emotion-captors (like me) and emotion-captives (like Fox) will find valuable help in this book’s pages. 

The subtitle of the book is A Journey to Hope through the Psalms of Lament; in its twelve chapters, Fox takes the pattern of the Bible’s saddest songs and applies it to our right expression of emotion, particularly in prayer. 

Part 1 of the book lays out a biblical perspective on emotions. Fox describes the emotions of worry, fear, anxiety, despair, grief, sorrow, abandonment, rejection, and shame, and she considers how they become “uninvited guests” in our lives. From there, Fox moves on to set them in the context of creation, fall, and redemption and gives a hopeful and helpful reminder that “Jesus came to redeem all things—including our emotions.” 

The rest of the book focuses more narrowly on the psalms of lament and their use as a pattern to guide us. As an emotion-avoider, I found myself moved by Fox’s explanation of why we should lament: 

We need to lament not because we are without hope but because we have faith in God. We also need to lament so we can enter into the pain we often avoid in order to know the peace that God gives those who come to him in faith. We need to lament so that we can learn more about God, about his redemptive purposes in this world, about ourselves, and about our greatest need in Christ. And we need to lament so that we can experience more of God’s amazing grace. 

From there, Fox goes on to give us practical direction and encouragement to lament. Chapters 6 (“Crying Out to God”), 7 (“Asking for Help”), and 8 (“Responding in Trust and Worship”) are particularly good; here, Fox shows us what, exactly, the psalmists did in their distress and how we can follow their example. 

For truth-speakers like me, Chapters 9 (“Remembering God’s Faithfulness”) and 10 (“Speaking the Truth to Yourself”) are familiar territory, but, coming as they do after thorough and honest heart-examination, they are not a barricade against emotion but the next step on a journey toward healthy emotions. Fox writes: 

This is a crucial truth for us to learn from the Psalms of Lament. These heart cries follow a forward movement. They don’t simply express emotions and leave it at that, because though verbalizing what we are feeling does provide some relief, it’s not our ultimate destination. . . .we are ultimately moving toward a place of trust and worship. Learning to speak the truth back to ourselves, as the psalmist does, helps move us toward our journey’s end. 

In the introduction, Fox warns readers that her book is not a race but a marathon, and this proved true on one level. Her writing is simple and clear, so actually working through the chapters does not take long at all, nor does it make unreasonable intellectual demands. (This, I think, makes it an excellent volume to hand to a friend struggling with despair or anxiety. I’m quite sure that people suffering from emotional overload do not want to slog through obtuse and complex material in order to feel better, and Fox knows this.) 

The marathon nature of the book comes via the deceptively simple—and few in number—study questions at the end of each chapter. Though she is writing about the Psalms of Lament, Fox does not focus on expositing the individual psalms, choosing instead to explain the general pattern most of those psalms follow. The in-depth Bible study is left up to the reader, who will read, meditate on, and apply various psalms as she answers the questions. 

A marathon indeed—but one worth the time and energies of all who submit themselves—and their emotions!—to the “living and active” power of the Word of God. 
___

Fox, Christina. A Heart Set Free: A Journey to Hope through the Psalms of Lament. Ross-shire, Scotland: Christian Focus, 2016. 

Here Comes Trouble. Now What?

Photo: flickr/Thomas Leth-Olsen

Have you met this family? 

 They walk into your church; they are nicely dressed; they are carrying well-thumbed Bibles. You talk to them a little. 

You find out they have been members of five different churches in as many years. You hear that each of their previous churches had major flaws—heretical worship practices, weak or foolish leadership, apathetic congregation members—and they are now seeking a “more biblical church.” 

They look around your church. They tell you they think this might be it, that your church might be The One. They smile. 

Oh, yes, you have met this family. 

These people have very specific (and often extra-biblical) ideas of what the church should be and do, and they have left collateral damage in the churches of your community as each one failed to measure up. In a lifetime of Sundays, this family has never been happy in any church. And today they have come to yours. 

Now what? 

1. Don’t Commiserate 

This family has a long and sad story to tell. They believe that all their previous churches have been wrong in serious ways: theology, leadership, ministry, family life. And they are looking for someone who will hear their complaint and validate their response. Don’t do it. 

While it is true that every church fails to live up to its high calling as the spotless bride of Christ, it is unlikely to be true that all other churches in a one-hundred-mile radius are fatally flawed. Nor is it likely that this family is totally blameless. 

Encouraging tales of woe about other churches serves to crack our bonds of Christian unity with believers in other places, and it fosters bitterness in the heart of this disgruntled family. Instead, urge them to take their concerns to the church leaders, to reconcile their past conflicts whenever possible, and to pray faithfully for the beloved bride of Christ wherever she gathers. 

2. Don’t Swoon 

This family will also—and usually by contrast—say flattering things about you and your church. While they think previous churches have been sloppy about their practices or their priorities, they think your church is doing everything right. This family will tell you they are so happy to find a place where—finally!—their own convictions and the convictions of the church align perfectly. 

It can be tempting, especially for a small church in need of new families, to swoon. From the first time this family entered your meeting room, everyone has been excited about their arrival: They have five young children! They can quote the book of Leviticus! They have gifts of hospitality/teaching/organization/evangelism! They sing harmony! 

We can be thankful for new families, while not placing our ultimate hope on them. No one family, no matter how orthodox or gifted, is the answer to our church’s every need. Instead, we entrust our church to the God who “arranged the members in the body each one of them as he chose” (1 Cor. 12:18) and who promised a kingdom whose increase will never end (Isa. 9:7). 

It can also be tempting to hear this family’s words of praise and become puffed up. After all their bad experiences, they think they’ve finally found a perfect church. We’d like to think it is, too, and pride and self-righteousness are not far behind. But this church, like every other church, is comprised of sinners. This church, like every other church, desperately needs her Savior. And we would be arrogant and foolish not to admit it. 

We’re glad you visited, we say. We hope you saw something of Christ here, we say. We know God will place you where he wants you, we say. And then we leave them with the Lord. 

3. Don’t Change 

Inevitably, this family will discover that something is wrong with your church. Maybe the members don’t all educate their children in the way this family believes is best, maybe the church leaders don’t always choose the type of worship music this family prefers, maybe the pastor preaches a certain text with a different application than they would like to hear. 

 And whether it’s communion or the children’s ministry, this family will probably ask the church to change. 

We must always be reforming—always seeking to bring our practice and our priorities into line with the Scripture. But we also need to have confidence in the prayerful decisions our church has made. If we worship or serve or fellowship in a certain way, it is with biblical reason. Probably it is also the way hundreds of God’s people over multiple generations have sought to faithfully practice holiness. We do not have to be uncertain or apologetic—we do not have to change—simply because this family stridently demands it.

4. Don’t Despair 

After a lifetime in ministry, when that family walks into my church, I can catch myself humming “I Know a Heartache When I See One.” But the ability to predict trouble (I can) and to reflexively shield myself from it (I do) is not the way of Christ either. 

This family might be trouble, but they might also be fellow sinners saved by grace, on the road to the heavenly Jerusalem, and growing in Christ day-by-day. The Lord may yet soften and mature them, and he may do it in the very pews of your church. God is still turning the pages on their story, just as each of us has seen him turn many in our own. Pray for this family. 

And even if the worst happens, even if this family comes and goes in a whirlwind of hurt, we can have assurance that our Jesus will carry it all. He tenderly cares for his blood-bought church at every moment. And the One who shouldered all our griefs will someday wipe all our tears. 

Here comes trouble. Cast them on Christ.

We Gather Together Where We Are

Some people in your church family are thinking about going over the river and through the woods this Thanksgiving. Others will be making airport runs to retrieve loved ones on one of the busiest travel holidays of the year. Meanwhile, your extended family is planning a menu featuring Aunt Mary Jane's green bean casserole and a steady diet of professional football.

The trouble is that you, Mrs. Pastor, can't travel 1,000 miles to be with your biological family this Thanksgiving for several reasons. You are tempted to cry in a corner. (Who among us hasn't done that?)  But, I have a few better ideas of how to cope, celebrate and minister when you can't go home.

Enjoy old activities in new ways. What do you miss most about not being with family on Thanksgiving? Brainstorm a way that you can capture the essence of that. If you have fond memories of cooking with grandma when she was alive, make a sweet potato casserole from her recipe. If you love conversing with your sisters, Skype the family party after the dishes are done. One thing Megan and I missed when we were far apart was watching the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade together. So, she called Connecticut from Mississippi to discuss the parade while it was on TV. It made me feel more connected to her.

Help out at a local soup kitchen. Many programs seek volunteers to prepare and serve food and clean up afterward, especially for big holiday meals. The soup kitchen might also need people to donate food, work in a food pantry or make deliveries. Involving your children in this type of service can promote gratitude for their own blessings.

Create a feast where you are. Although it may appear that everyone has family nearby, that is not true. Furthermore, not everyone has a place to go. You could invite some of these people to your house for Thanksgiving dinner. To make things easier on you, don't be afraid to ask them to bring a favorite dish to share. Think of international students, the family who just had a baby, the newly widowed woman without children and the man who just recovered from major surgery. For those guests who do not believe the gospel, your thankfulness to the Lord is a powerful witness in our culture of ingratitude.

Support deaconal efforts. Over the years, the deacons in my church have provided for the hungry both within and without our church. For example, they maintain a nonperishable food pantry for our members in need. They have distributed Thanksgiving baskets with turkeys and all the trimmings. They donate to area ministries. Giving in this way helps keep the focus off your own complaints.

Start a church tradition. Think about how you can facilitate thanksgiving at Thanksgiving within the church. When our church had under 100 members, we ate a turkey dinner together on the Sunday before Thanksgiving. We invited friends and family. Afterward, we had a time of singing and personal testimonies of God's goodness in our lives during the previous year.  Now that we have more people, we still have a time of public thanksgiving, but we eat pie instead of a meal. In spite of the venue, it is very moving to hear from those who you know have struggles and still can praise the Lord for who He is.

It is not easy to sacrifice time with extended family when the ministry that God has called you to do is far away from the festivities. But, you can give thanks in all circumstances. In addition, there are great rewards. "...there is no one who has left house or wife or brothers or parents or children, for the sake of the kingdom of God, who will not receive many times more in this time, and in the age to come eternal life." Luke 18:29, 30

 

My Share in the Pastor's Study

My husband and I have a running joke. When the milk puddles on the kitchen floor, or the laundry baskets explode in the family room, or the kids start leaping from the light fixtures, he eyes the door and calmly says: “Well, I’m just going to go to my office to pray and study the Bible now.”

Typically, I respond by throwing a pair of just-matched socks at him.

Like many Christians, I’d dearly love more opportunities to pray and study. I’d love to read more commentaries on more verses, listen to more sermons and lectures, fill the gaps in my knowledge of church history and systematic theology.

And my husband has more time for studying than I do. As a pastor, it’s his job.

(Of course, I often fail to make use of the opportunities I do get. I have umpteen Bibles in my house and on my screens, I have joint ownership of and full access to a theological library of five thousand volumes, and if I spend more time watching Netflix than praying, it’s no one’s fault but my own.)

But, on a rainy Tuesday morning, when I’m folding laundry or commuting to work, he must study. And over the last 12 years of our marriage, I’ve come to realize that while I may be opening canned tomatoes, and he may be opening the letter to the Hebrews, I can and do have a share in his study. As a pastor’s wife—but also simply as a church member—his study is my privilege to participate in.

I share in the content of the study.

This is perhaps the most obvious, but I need to remind myself of it regularly. Every sermon, every pastoral prayer, every Bible study lesson, comes from hours of study. The reason he can clearly explain 1 Peter 2 or Exodus 28 is that he has studied those passages exhaustively—their original language, their context, their doctrinal themes, their varied applications. The reason he can lead publicly in prayer with wisdom and devotion is because he has prayed long in private.

The pastor is also an advisor, curator, and reviewer for my own study. Because of his extensive reading, he can say to me: I think you’d benefit from this book. Don’t bother buying that one. If you have time, read this whole book. If you don’t have time, just chapter 4 is extraordinarily helpful. He can ask me: Have you considered this argument? Have you listened to this preacher? Have you read this text in light of this other one? The content of his study helpfully informs mine, saving me time and energy, if only I would ask him.

Never send to know for whom the pastor studies. He studies for thee.

I share in the reward of the study.

We often have a misplaced understanding of what actually happens in the pastor’s study. I can picture him, cup of—still warm!—coffee in hand, feet on the desk, casually browsing the latest release from Crossway. But “prayer and the ministry of the Word” (Acts 6:4)—the apostolic mission—is not a description of the life of ease. The apostles had to “devote” themselves to it (Acts 6:4), and they needed diaconal helpers to take the other, smaller, burdens because this one burden was so huge (Acts 6:2-3).

Prayer is not easy. Bible study is not easy. And the pastor needs my help.

When I mop the milk or go to work so that he can study, I will have the privilege of participating in the study’s reward. When I pray while he studies, or pray while he prays, I will also share in its fruit.

If the Word is proclaimed from the pulpit with power, I have a share in that. If sinners are brought to repentance, I have a share. If the Word rightly ministered reconciles marriages, directs the ignorant, shepherds the flock, I have a share. Only the last day will reveal what my sacrifice for his study accomplished in the spiritual places.

I share in the joy of the study.

Before my husband is my husband, he is my brother. Before he is my pastor or my elder, he is my brother. Before he is either theology student or theology teacher, he is my brother.

Last week, my husband texted me from a conference in another state after sitting under a particularly moving sermon: “Brought to see something of the depths of Christ’s love for the church and the privilege of serving. Praise the Lord!” And I rejoiced with him (Rom. 12:15).

When, through prayer and the ministry of the Word, my brother grows to love Christ more, when he sees afresh the glory of the gospel, when he finds himself stirred by the Word of God to greater devotion, when he kills sin and pursues holiness, when he has more of the Spirit, then I have a share in his joy.

If behind a closed study door, my brother delights in my Lord, then I will rejoice. 

A Cure for Anxiety

A guest post by Pastor Brad D. Evans

We seem to live in an age of anxiety.  Would people who lived through the Great Depression and World War II roll their eyes at us?  “What do you have to be anxious about?”  I don’t know, but we find our share of things to be anxious about, don’t we?

Recently I studied Matthew 6: 25-34 in preparation for a Bible study.  In this passage, Jesus says three times:  “Therefore do not be anxious.”  Jesus is giving us a cure for anxiety.  He gives us strong medicine, and some of us may not like the taste of it. However, He is seeking to break the grip of worry in our lives.  Let me briefly note Jesus’ wisdom about anxiety.

He commands us not to be anxious.  You might be insulted if I command you not to be anxious, but Jesus has the authority to do so.  Anxiety is a sin, and we should get rid of it.  See what I mean about strong medicine?

Jesus encourages us to have a bigger view of life than our personal needs. “Isn’t life more than food and clothing?” He asks.  So often, when anxious, we’ve reduced the world to being about nothing more than our personal needs.

Reckon on your relative value.  Aren’t you worth more than the birds of the air?  Jesus asks.  And yet, your heavenly Father feeds them.  He also takes care of the lilies of the field. How much more will He take care of us?

Jesus reminds us of the absolute futility of worry.  Which of you by worrying can add a single cubit to his life’s span?  I can’t tell you how many times this brought me comfort during my cancer treatments!

We won’t like this one either, but Jesus says that anxiety is a disease of “little faiths.”  O you of little faith, always worrying the way you do. Jesus says that when we regularly give way to anxiety we are basically living like pagans.

Instead, Jesus encourages us to live like people who really do have a wise, powerful and loving Heavenly Father. Jesus exhorts us to live like the Kingdom of God is what really matters most. Jesus encourages us to live one day at a time.  Sufficient for each day is the evil thereof.

You can look up the specific verses that give rise to each of the points above.  May you benefit richly from Jesus’ prescription for dealing with anxiety.

Brad Evans is the senior pastor of the Presbyterian Church of Coventry, Coventry, Connecticut, and he admits to his own battles with anxiety.

No Time Left for You

May is such a busy month. It is a time when I want to honor mothers, celebrate graduations, shower gifts on brides-to-be, plan Memorial Day picnics and attend end-of-the-school-year festivities. I have a lot of scheduled events that mirror a Christian view of how to use my time.

But, it is not just May that is full of things to do. My whole life, like that of many others, is made up of personal busyness. This is not always a good thing. The Bible does speak of honest work and avoiding idleness, but it doesn't condone the way I sometimes use self-induced busyness as an excuse for sin.

For example, I try to make the most of each morning.  I get ready for my job, cook and do laundry, read online news, finish ministry tasks and play a few brain games on my tablet. Much of my activity has spiritual value. And yet, sometimes I am so busy with my to-do list that I don't have time to seek God before I leave for work. This isn't good for my soul.  I allow the less worthy pursuits to crowd out life's eternally significant things.

Another result of over-scheduling is that I am overwhelmed, distracted and irritable. "We've gone too far in terms of using 'I'm very busy' as a 'Get Out of Being Polite/Considerate/Attentive Free' card," wrote Gina Barreca* in a Hartford Courant op-ed piece about busyness. When my own standards take precedence over God's will, tasks are more important than people. And, it is hard to love people when you feel they have interrupted your personal agenda for the day.

In addition, I accept the lie that I am a loser if I am not busy accomplishing something the culture deems worthy. Barreca said, "We made ourselves feel significant by believing that the busier we became, the more significant we were." Instead, my standing comes from Christ and His view of what is important. This means that I should not be too busy to serve Him in even the unglamorous ways, like sacrificing my time for an unlovely church member.

Maintaining godly priorities is a challenge. But, I know that if I neglect my relationship with God or am stingy with my love and service to others, I am not glorifying to Him. I need to consider how filling my time with endless tasks crowds out more important things. And, I am not too busy for that.

*Note: As far as I know, Ms. Barreca does not confess faith in Christ. However, she has some insightful things to say from time-to-time.

Please Don't Let Me be Misunderstood

I bought a print of a unique painting that I appreciate. It is abstract and hard to describe, visualize and understand unless you know something about the behind-the-scenes work. The artistry is not perfect, due to limitations. But, when I visited the place where the artist creates the original paintings, talked with his assistant and learned more about the group that benefits from the artwork projects, I wanted that print.

I can see why people might not "get" that painting. In the same way, I observe that some might misunderstand their pastor and his wife. People don't always see what goes on as a pastor follows his calling. The way he does his work and how he spends his time appear abstract compared to what is familiar. When people expect certain things to happen in a certain way, and the pastor disappoints them with the end product, they might misunderstand him. But, the pastor's wife knows some of the backstory. Although she is aware of his shortcomings, she sees the daily sacrifice her husband makes for the church and how he is motivated to benefit the congregation. When her husband is misunderstood, the pastor's wife is affected, too.

Some advice for the times when you feel misunderstood
1) Most of the time, most of the church members are quite supportive of the pastor's ministry. It is helpful to keep reminders of that. Someone told me that she keeps a "blue file." It is a blue file folder filled with letters of encouragement and keepsakes of special events. When she is feeling "blue," she takes the file out, reminds herself of God's blessings and thanks Him.

2) Disagreements will happen in a fallen world. Realize that even God's people can be inconsiderate and thoughtless toward you. You have hurt others, as well. When I feel the sting of being misunderstood, I think of past times when I quickly judged others without knowing the whole picture. Seeing my own sin of misunderstanding can motivate me to repentance and awareness of how I should treat others.

3) A sinless Jesus was criticized and misunderstood many times (e.g., Matthew 12:1-13). Taking your hurt to God in prayer is helpful. Ask Him for love toward those who you think are mistreating you. Pray that the Holy Spirit will show you if your sin has contributed to this problem. Ask for strength and willingness to change, as needed.

4) Sometimes, people just need more information to foster understanding. I have a theory that if you don't know much about someone's life, you fill in the gaps with speculation. Communication can counteract that. In my church, the leaders call a meeting to explain any weighty actions they take, such as church discipline, and are willing to answer tough questions. My husband writes a blog and church newsletter column to tell people what he is thinking about the Christian life. Occasionally, he mentions a struggle he is facing. Both of us attend church social events, have people in our home, stay around after services for fellowship, share prayer requests, pitch in on church work days and try to show that we are putting on the new "man," just like everyone else.

As much as I get indignant about people making assumptions about me, you would think I wouldn't assume anything. But I do, especially with strangers. For example, I once saw a woman sitting by herself in a large, city church I was visiting. I thought she looked poorer than those sitting around her. Perhaps she was shunned by them. I felt sorry for her, thinking that because her husband was probably not a Christian, she came alone to the service. Later, I found out that she was the wife of a well-known pastor on the staff, and he was preaching that night! Maybe I should stick to interpreting paintings.

A note from Patsy: Legally, I can't reproduce the artwork I wrote about. But you can see it and read about it on this webpage. I think you will be surprised.

Dark Days for a Pastor's Wife

A pastor's wife, who normally encourages church members in their struggles, sometimes finds herself in difficult circumstances where she is the one in need of ministry. This is not a comfortable place for her or for those who look at her as unflappable. It may be unsettling for new Christians to see mature believers stricken. Here is my experience.

Deep Waters
April: Troubles within the church seem to be on an upward cycle and weighing on my husband. People are coping with unemployment, marital issues, difficult children, serious illness or the dissatisfaction of others.
Almost three years to the day after his cancer surgery, my husband gets a blood test that indicates chronic lymphocytic leukemia, a second type of cancer.

May: After several medical appointments for a definite diagnosis and three weeks of not being able to tell the church, we announce that their pastor, my husband, has cancer.
Because he must avoid infection, close contact with people, crowds and visiting the sick (essentially, his pastoral duties), he has to take a medical leave of absence.

June: The first cycle of chemotherapy is delayed, twice, because the medical insurance would not approve it.
Chemo is approved. A day after the first round of chemo ends, I get word that my mom is dying in an ICU in another state. My husband did most of the driving on previous trips to see my parents. This time, I have to go without him. I am the only child, which adds to my loneliness.
My mom dies.

July: My father is still grieving the loss of his wife when his only sibling, my favorite aunt, is diagnosed with acute leukemia.

August: My aunt dies. The summer seems like a blur of medical professionals and tears.

Bright Spots
People are praying. In our church. At home. In other churches around the world. We can feel the effects of prayer every day in a way we have not before.

Our gifted associate pastor has previous experience in stepping in for a senior pastor. God is using his knowledge of the congregation for a smooth transition while my husband is sidelined.

Many people engage in mercy ministry. Health care advocacy. Transportation to my mother's bedside. Rides to medical appointments. Meals. Human contact. Yard work. Flowers and plants. These acts of kindness reflect God's love to us.

The cancer center staff is very compassionate. The treatments have fewer side effects than we anticipated. My husband's overall spirits are good.

We enjoy fun times with our immediate family. They are able to be here at the same time. It is so encouraging to see the next generations following Christ.

God refines my priorities by taking away people and things that I value. In addition, he helps me empathize with the sufferings of others in a new way.

Observations
These circumstances are really hard for me. My husband has his own struggles.

Being a pastor's wife adds a unique dimension to all of my life. And, I am often unclear about how God wants me to navigate through it, especially now.

Not everyone knows what to say to me. This makes it seem like they don't care.

Although I am sure where my true comfort lies, I don't always flee to Christ and His Word the way I know I should.

As we all do, I need God's grace in my life to "Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing." (James 1: 2-4.)

If Pots Could Talk

This guest posting is from Marg Maguire, a recent speaker at a women's luncheon I attended. I asked her to retell this story for you because it has much relevance to women in ministry.

 

Over my thirty odd years as a ministry wife I’ve rattled a few pots and pans on a Saturday night. The goal: preparing for Sunday company after church. It’s run the gamut: new folks, old folks, large groups, small groups, planned out, impromptu, etc., etc.

 

While the chore has been the same, my attitude has not always been. Technically speaking, I was always serving the Lord in extending hospitality, but I was not always “Making a joyful noise unto the Lord” or “Serving the Lord with gladness”. (Psalm 100)

 

Early on I found myself being resentful. I resented my pastor husband for asking me to do this again. I resented the others in our church that weren’t pulling their fair share of the hospitality load. I resented “the church” because they didn’t appreciate how hard we worked. I resented the drain on our finances that came as a result of so much entertaining. I probably even resented the pots and pans because they didn’t clean themselves!

 

Over the years the Lord has been kind to give me an “attitude adjustment”. My “aha” moment came when I understood that when I am discontented and resentful, it is no one but the Lord that I am railing against. In His sovereignty He ordained that I would serve Him as a pastor’s wife and hospitality was part and parcel of that role.  My grousing was against no one else but Him. “Against you and you only have I sinned.” (Psalm 51) I was being stingy with my time, selfish with my gifts, and feeling sorry for myself as I let myself feel overworked and underappreciated. I was playing the Martha role well!

 

I was missing the joy of serving the Lord and others out of a grateful heart! What a kind thing the Lord has done to completely change all that around. Now I really enjoy this role that He has given to me. I honestly look forward to serving the Lord as I serve others through hospitality. I pray for our guests before they come. While I am cleaning, setting up, and preparing the food, I often try to think how this opportunity of fellowship and food might be a special blessing to the particular people that we have invited. I try to think of extra ways that I can be part of meeting their special needs. I actually get excited about them coming. No longer am I resentful and discontented and murmuring under my breath.

 

My pots are still rattling on our Saturday night rendezvous. However, if they could talk, they might speak about the difference the Lord has made in my life.

 

About the author: A pastor's wife for 32 of her 40 years as a wife, Marg Maguire, is also certified as a Biblical counselor with ACBC (Association of Certified Biblical Counselors, formerly NANC). One of her biggest joys is helping women apply the truths of the Bible to their lives. She has been a women’s retreat speaker, Bible study leader, and has taught a basic Biblical counseling course to women when they were last in Uganda two years ago. She lives with her husband, Jerry, in Concord, Massachusetts, where they serve Redeemer Presbyterian Church (PCA). For fun Marg enjoys scrapbooking and making cards.  Their daughter and son-in-law live in the Baltimore/Washington, DC area.

 

 

 

3 Things Pastors (and Their Wives) Should Say Publicly More Often

Dear Church,

I’m afraid you might be getting the wrong idea. I have read so many posts recently about how hard it is to be in ministry, what a trial, what a path of suffering, and I’m worried that you might be reading them, too.

Just the other day, there was a popular one called “10 Things Pastors Hate to Admit Publicly,” and I want you to know it made me sad. I’m tired of reading How-Horrible-The-Ministry-Really-Is-If-You-Only-Knew-The-Truth articles.

You, my church, are not horrible. Nor are you taking years off my life. Nor are you wrecking my family and faith. I have been a pastor’s daughter since before I was two years old, and now I’m going on ten years as a pastor’s wife, and I want you to know that serving you has been a joy.

In response, I’d like to offer 3 Things Pastors (and Their Wives) Should Say Publicly More Often.

1. I’m Sorry

If you read these articles (and I’m still hoping you didn’t) you’ll notice that they focus on the demands church members place on ministry families. Matt Boswell calls these “expectations buried like landmines through the field of the church.” Ryan Hugely lamented how a pastor’s wife is “saddled with a host of responsibilities and expectations.”

Let me tell you the truth about the out-sized expectations you have for your pastor and his family: your expectations are always too small.

See, I ought to be conformed to nothing less than the image of Christ himself. And I often fail.

So if you, my church, feel like I haven’t loved you well enough, haven’t cared for your needs, haven’t given you godly counsel, haven’t walked alongside you in your trials, you are absolutely right. I’m sorry. And if you feel like you need to, as one post mocked, “leave because the church down the road has Slurpee dispensers,” well that’s partly my fault, too, for not helping you to prioritize the things of Christ.

I have repeatedly failed to love you as my Lord has, by laying down his life for his friends. I’m sorry.

2. Thank You

I also don’t want you to think you get in the way of your pastor’s real life. Mark Driscoll wrote about the difficulties of pastoral life this way, “A handful of high-drama, demanding church people can ruin an entire pastoral family by constantly calling, dropping by, and otherwise interrupting without due cause during dinner time, days off, and vacations.”

First, I don’t like this because I know that your job (web designer, teacher, flight attendant, landscaper, retail employee) is hard, too. I’m pretty sure not every single day in your office is fun. I’m guessing there are some people who don’t appreciate your long hours, people who come up with additional projects for you to do, and people who say unkind things to you. It’s probably a safe bet that your workplace, too, is tainted by the Fall and subject to all manner of thorniness. 

Work is tough—for all of us.

But mostly I object to this complaint because you, my church, are a blessing. Thank you.

Thank you for giving your hard-earned money to support our family, for praying for us, for letting me hold your hands and kiss your newborns.

Thank you also for being God’s instrument to make me holy. I don’t want to be the same worldly, selfish, sin-bent person I was when I first came to this church. I want to be more like Christ. I’m thankful for your encouragement to me in this. And, too, if your rough edges are the kindness of the Lord to make me holy, well then, bring them on. Thank you.

3. I Love You

I also want to make sure you know that I love you. Because, really, it’s not about me.

I’m not saying that ministry life is always sweetness and light. (And I think I’ve been serving you long enough not to be accused of hiding behind rose-colored shades.) I’m not unwilling to talk about the sacrifices, but I’d rather tell you how precious you are.

You are my family. You are my neighbor. You are my friends.

And a friend does not loudly announce the high cost of groceries when she invites you over for lunch. A friend does not keep an accounting of hours spent on the phone, sitting in hospital waiting rooms, and driving to weddings. A friend does not complain when her very-human friends are sometimes ignorant, weak, and needy. (Guess what? Sometimes I am, too.)

Instead, a friend cultivates love. A friend lavishes hugs and smiles. A friend delights in the privilege of mutual friendship with those who are Christ’s friends.

My church, please don’t get the wrong idea. The years that I have served you seem like but a few days.

I love you.

Fitting in While Pleasing God

Patsy fits into a Quebec mural.

In response to a question about what actions you can adopt for the sake of the gospel,  I give examples of my recent trip to another country. Even though the details vary from what others encounter in their ministries, this story may encourage prayer and reflection about how to fit in while pleasing God.

My husband and I took a vacation to Quebec, a French-speaking Canadian province. It is the kind of place I mentioned in All Things to All Women "where people dress, act, look, think and eat differently than we do." Although I met briefly with missionaries there, I was not on a missions trip.

And yet, wherever I am and whatever I am doing, I try to conduct myself in a manner worthy of the gospel (Phil, 1:27). This involves respecting the people around me and trying to remain neutral about practices that are not clearly sinful. I want to be in the world and not of the world. In case I was the only believer a non-Christian Canadian encountered that week, I wanted to stand out only for things that have eternal significance.

What was easy?
Certain cultural norms in Canada were not difficult adjustments, which echoed my ministry experience. In this case, I had mostly black clothes that were simple enough to help me blend in with the fashion-conscious French Canadians. In addition, my fascination with unique regional foods allowed me to enjoy authentic Québécois cuisine like wild game, sugar pie and Tim Horton maple donuts. 

What was more challenging?
In both my ministry and Canadian experiences, I find that fitting into new locations requires a willingness to sacrifice. My rusty French was a problem in Canada. To help me improve, my husband thoughtfully got language CDs to listen to while we drove to Quebec. I was reluctant to practice in the car and even more reticent to use French in stores and hotels. Therefore, I was pretty much a French failure. On the other hand, my husband received a compliment on his fluency from a local resident.

Another difficult situation is dealing wisely with existing prejudices against heritage like North/South or city/country. I see that in churches. In Quebec, history museums and tour guides showed me that some French people resent the English. My ancestors were English. But, I suppressed the urge to ask, "Why?," because I didn't see the benefit in it.

Other faulty mindsets exist, as well. I saw some anti-Christian ideas depicted and expressed in deconstructionist and metaphysical art and attitudes in Canada. This is an example of an area where Christians should not try to fit in.

I was in Canada, but I wasn't of Canada. That meant that I could enter into the culture to a certain extent, but I couldn't call it my own. I saw a glimpse of that when we attended a Quebec vs. United States hockey game. I didn't feel disloyal by standing quietly for the Canadian national anthem, but the words were foreign to me. We were surrounded by people who seemed to live for hockey; we had a higher purpose. In a crowd of 20,000, my husband and I were in a minority who didn't cheer for Canada. Our eyes were on a better country.