Navigating Uncharted Leadership Waters
Several months ago, I left my position as executive pastor at a local church. This seemed like a strange career move to a lot of people…
Several months ago, I left my position as executive pastor at a local church. This seemed like a strange career move to a lot of people. I’ve had to explain myself over and over to other pastors and leaders, so I decided to write about the decision.
I hope that this could serve as a help to someone else who might be discerning whether or not they ought to leave a leadership position or other job. Stepping into a season of transition can be overwhelming, and it’s good to know that you aren’t alone. Below are a few lessons that I learned — and I hope that they help you.
Catch the grenade and absorb the shock
In April of last year, I learned that my lead pastor’s marriage was over. This was confirmed by subsequent conversations with my lead pastor, and it was decided that he would take a 3-month sabbatical away from his role as lead pastor to work through that issue. There was a 50/50 chance he wouldn’t return to his role. Our ministry network stepped in, and a chairman of the board was selected. We had a season to get through together, and as the executive pastor with no interim pastor appointed, the burden of leadership landed on my shoulders. It would take a team to successfully navigate this season, but if the church didn’t successfully navigate this season, it would be on me.
What do you do when a grenade gets thrown in your lap?
Stay calm and don’t feel sorry for yourself
Stay calm — publically, anyway. Don’t be reactive. Be proactive and composed.
Second, find somebody you can be open and vulnerable with and let them know what is actually going on. After all, your public image isn’t who you are — and you have to be honest with someone about what is going on internally.
I’m not really a big crier, but I’ll never forget my wife being the one to hold me when I came home and sobbed the night I found out about my pastor’s marriage. This wasn’t going to be easy, but she is my best friend, confidant, and the strongest person that I know. We were going to get through this together.
Everybody needs a best friend, and if you are in ministry, I hope you are married to yours like I am.
My buddies Joel, an Anglican priest, and Jesse, a web developer for Saddleback Church, were also invaluable to me during this season. You’ve got to have people to talk to in life, and even more so in crisis.
Set a goal, and stay focused on achieving that goal
Using a personal journal and quiet time, I set a goal. I told my lead pastor exactly what I would do during his sabbatical. I would provide pastoral leadership to the congregation during this season until they had a senior pastor again.
Be a non-anxious presence. Reassure people. Keep the operation as familiar as possible to the people who are a part of it. Be a good steward of what you are being entrusted with.
Don’t be afraid to walk the road to character
David Brooks wrote a book I’d highly recommend all leaders read: The Road to Character. The book shows a new (read: ancient) way of approaching life: through the lens of vocation and calling.
Here are a couple of quotes from it that encouraged me over the summer:
“In this method, you don’t ask, What do I want from life? You ask a different set of questions: What does life want from me? What are my circumstances calling me to do? In this scheme of things we don’t create our lives; we are summoned by life.”
“We are called at certain moments to comfort people who are enduring some trauma. Many of us don’t know how to react in such situations, but others do. In the first place, they just show up. They provide a ministry of presence. Next, they don’t compare. The sensitive person understands that each person’s ordeal is unique and should not be compared to anyone else’s. Next, they do the practical things–making lunch, dusting the room, washing the towels. Finally, they don’t try to minimize what is going on. They don’t attempt to reassure with false, saccharine sentiments. They don’t say that the pain is all for the best. They don’t search for silver linings. They do what wise souls do in the presence of tragedy and trauma. They practice a passive activism. They don’t bustle about trying to solve something that cannot be solved. The sensitive person grants the sufferer the dignity of her own process. She lets the sufferer define the meaning of what is going on. She just sits simply through the nights of pain and darkness, being practical, human, simple, and direct.”
― David Brooks, The Road to Character
Think about it, talk about it, pray about it, but don’t stress about it
Early on in this story, I was given incredible advice by my friend Jordan, Lead Pastor of Newport Mesa Church.
“Don’t get ambitious. There’s going to be a lead pastor at your church this fall, and it isn’t going to be you. You’ll get yourself in trouble if you start to think otherwise.”
Remember that your fears aren’t rooted in faith that God is endlessly generous and giving. Someone doesn’t have to lose in order for you win. There isn’t a limited amount to go around.
Zero-sum thoughts are rooted in a worldview of scarcity.
“If I leave this job, I’ll never get another ministry position!”
“If I’m not the pastor of these people, who am I?”
Let this be your prayer:
“Dear God, I am so afraid to open my clenched fists! Who will I be when I have nothing left to hold on to? Who will I be when I stand before you with empty hands? Please help me to gradually open my hands and to discover that I am not what I own, but what you want to give me. And what you want to give me is love, unconditional, everlasting love. Amen.” — Henri Nouwen
I met with a Greek Orthodox priest over the summer and asked for some life advice about my situation. He told me the quote above: “Think about it, talk about it, pray about it — but don’t stress about it.” Accepting the call means letting go of our will. Not ours, but Yours, Lord.
Don’t fight the writing on the wall
I wrote in my journal in April that I knew this was the end of my season at this church. When you are in a position where you need to keep your boss at arms length for a season, you know that this season is going to end with your resignation to that person (should they return to power) or your resignation to the next leader (because your position with the congregation would undermine their authority). That’s OK. God calls us places for particular seasons. Find joy in being entrusted with the task you have been given and know that the rest will work itself out.
You can’t control the future
I resigned my position on a Sunday in late August. It was the same day my senior pastor was elected back into his position. The senior leadership of the church and I all decided that same day was the best timeline for my quiet transition.
Five days later, on Friday, my wife called me back into our bedroom after I returned home from my morning walk.
“Look under your pillow.”
There was a little baby onesie. You know, the kind that combines the top and the pants and covers an infant’s feet to keep them cozy.
“Are you telling me?…”
“Yep! We’re pregnant!”
Things are going to happen. Major life changes. Unexpected bills. Life is going to keep happening. Jesus is going to remain faithful. It’s always more comfortable to trust your bank account than to have faith, but being a position where you have to trust that you are going to be taken care of is an opportunity for spiritual growth.
Don’t try to take the moral high ground and throw stones
I am not a better man than the senior pastor that I worked for. You aren’t any better than your current boss. Faced with the same scenario he just walked through, I likely would have taken very similar steps as him and made a similar decision to stay in the role of lead pastor.
If I were to publically drum up a Biblical defense, or write up some moral argument for why he should leave his role — I’d just look like an asshole. You will too. Don’t do it. You are made up of the same stuff that they are, so don’t fool yourself otherwise.
In my scenario, I was watching the ending of a marriage — something that I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy, much less someone I care deeply about. Remember that they are hurting and trying to navigate an impossible situation, too. Try empathy, not retribution.
Diversify. Diversify. Diversify.
I’m talking about money, folks. It matters. Do not put all of your financial eggs in one basket. I believe there is strength in diversity, and I also believe this is true for streams of income. Money isn’t the root of all evil — the love of it is. Money can, in fact, be quite useful.
Early in my career, I resigned from a church in order to move closer to an urban area and finish the educational program I was working on. My lead pastor asked me “What other skills do you have to make money than this? You don’t have a lot of options other than to stay or make a foolish move.” Yikes. Don’t put yourself in that situation.
If you are currently in that kind of a situation, figure out a way to develop another stream of income.We live in an incredible moment in human history — you can find all sorts of work to do from 7:00pm — 2:00am. Build websites. Drive for Uber or Lyft. Take photos. Do taxes for people. You can find a side hustle. If you need some inspiration, follow Gary Vaynerchuk on Instagram.
Think of yourself as a start-up business. Determine how much revenue that you want to generate given your level of education and skill sets. Make a plan for how you are going to earn that amount, and, if you are in ministry, I’d recommend that your ministerial income makes up half or less of that number. Don’t rely too heavily on a church to pay your bills. Be wise to the forces of economics.
Pain that isn’t transformed is transmitted: do your work and get healthy
Some of my friends from the seminary I work at led a student trip to Cape Town, South Africa this autumn, and my friend John passed the classic Fr. Richard Rohr quote “If we do not transform our pain, we will most assuredly transmit it.” along from one of the sessions on their trip. One of the lectures referenced this quote against the backdrop of apartheid. You have to forgive, to process your emotions and experience, and let go. You can either choose to get bitter, or you can get better. Get better.
We’ve all met people who take their pain and broadcast it to everyone who will listen. Hurt people who bleed all over anyone who dares to get too close. Hurt people, hurt people.
Churches and organizations are macrocosms of the health or dysfunction of their senior leadership. If the leader isn’t healthy, the organization will never be healthy. Things like Self-care, Spiritual Formation, Mental Health, “Doing your work” on your issues — those matter as much organizationally as they do personally for a leader.
To put it another way, my Greek Orthodox priest told me this: “Adam, if you don’t take steps to deal with the pain this is causing you, then years down the road you are going to look back and realize that it has hitched itself to you like a wagon. And you will keep dragging it around until you stop, unhitch the wagon, and examine what is inside in order to be free from it.”
Friends, you have to learn how to let go. This is the part that hurts. But this suffering is the part that can lead to the greatest joy in your life, and a peace that passess all understanding.
Your pain has transformed you.
You walk with a limp.
And there isn’t bitterness in your eyes — there is joy and peace.