Does Your Church Have a Power Problem?

The American church universe and Twitter-verse buzzed loudly this past week over the “dismissal” (i.e., “firing”) of Rev. Amy Butler as pastor of the historic Riverside Baptist in New York City. This happened without a vote of the church, and amid ongoing controversy.

I absolutely grieve for Rev. Amy Butler and the people of her church. But I grieve just as much for ministers who endure equally harsh treatment with much less fanfare and consideration.

Butler’s case is getting intense publicity because of Riverside’s history and her well-known status in Progressive Christianity—which tends to mean that people either love or despise her. But the situation points out a greater problem, particularly for churches that govern themselves.

Many Baptist, Pentecostal, and non-denominational churches make their own decisions, without direct oversight from any denomination or organization. This includes decisions on who is hired and fired.

Those of us who minister in these traditions rarely get anything like the five-year contract that Butler originally had, or the severance package she will receive. Many a pastor can get a pink slip without notice, severance, or even the due process that is prescribed in by-laws or other church documents.

And it happens a lot more often than people realize.

Church leaders and behind-the-scenes power brokers push pastors out the door in any number of ways, including (but not limited to) simply making their life and ministry miserable. This often happens in the dark, with parking lot meetings after the meeting or lunch table discussions after church.

Unfortunately, those things done in secret cause tremendous pain when they inevitably find the light of day. These behind-the-scenes battles leave a brutal trail of collateral damage in their wake

People become disillusioned. They lose friends. They may lose their church. And some even lose their faith. Quite often, the initial wounds of these “power plays” leaves lasting scars. From all of the articles I have read so far, it seems that all manner of issues with power and control were at work behind the scenes at Riverside, and the congregation was none the wiser until someone got fired.

At that point, the damage is already done and a church must move to repair and recovery.

My long-time friend Craig Tackett, pastor of Nicholasville Baptist Church in Kentucky, narrows the source of these problems with power and control to the basic sins of greed and pride.

Greed is not a sin that involves only money. We can be greedy for prestige, power, or the ever-present false god of control. Pride causes us to point the finger at others while failing to see our own faults. Once these get into the wiring of the leadership and/or a congregation, you have a power problem.

How do we know when a church has a power problem, and how do we avoid that? This is not a comprehensive list, but these are some steps you can take and signs you can read to determine if a church needs some serious re-wiring.

1. Demand Transparency: Does the church submit regular financial reporting of some kind? Do ministers and/or boards submit information about programs, ministries, ideas, and vision for the future?

The church should not have to vote every time someone has to buy a pack of pens or a roll of toilet paper. But if the leadership cannot (or will not) give you information about the finances or the future of the church, then you may have uncovered a major problem.

2. Know your documents: Do not be afraid to ask for copies of church budgets, by-laws, constitution, etc…and read them! These should be easily accessible and obtainable in a healthy church.

The by-laws and constitution quite often serve as a de facto contract for church boards, ministers, and members. Know them, and fearlessly insist that the church follows these Spirit-driven covenants in making decisions. And if they need to be changed to meet the current situation, bring that up as well.

3. Absolute power corrupts absolutely: If anything suggests that any person or group within the church has complete authority, it should raise serious questions.

If you ask questions about the church and get told that “everything is alright” or “you don’t need to worry about it” or “it’s all good” without any specifics, you need to raise your eyebrows.

If you hear ongoing references to submission, control, authority, or absolute power, then you may want to take a hard look at what’s happening in that church.

Or run in the other direction. Fast.

In Christianity and God’s church, accountability is necessary for all human beings involved. And you cannot have accountability without transparency. If you do not have it for everyone, INCLUDING the pastor, then you have a recipe for trouble.

4. Look for a Culture of Forgiveness: Does the church seek to empower people to be and do better, rather than determining who is and is not “worthy?”Does your church have a track record of resolving conflict and restoring peace; or does it assign blame in an attempt to eliminate conflict? Do leaders acknowledge fault and make amends, and do they seek to help others do the same?

A pastor is only a human being who is called of God to a particular purpose. She or he is fully human, prone to mistakes and needing forgiveness. Church leaders and members need to recall that same principle. If the church has a culture of both accountability AND forgiveness for all people (pastors, leaders, and congregation), the goal should be restoration rather than condemnation.

Make sure that forgiveness is a much stronger ethic than judgement in your congregation. And make sure that no one person or group is the final word on who is or is not worthy of such forgiveness. Or what sins can or cannot be forgiven.

For the record, this does not mean that a minister or leader will never be dismissed. It simply means that the church seeks to challenge people to be better and do better, rather than simply eliminating them.

5. The Church instills “Restorative Discipline”: True CHURCH discipline is intended to HELP those who are out of bounds to recognize a problem, repent, receive forgiveness, and return to the fellowship.

Once again, this includes your ministers and church leaders.

All of us make mistakes, sometimes terrible mistakes. Why should not both the leadership and the membership receive an opportunity to renew their commitment to the Body of Christ?

As sad as I am for Amy Butler and the controversy at Riverside, the news articles should make us pay closer attention to what happens in our own congregations. It should also make us take note of the way that some pastors are treated by their fellow church leaders.

These other pastors may not make the New York Times, but that doesn’t make it any less painful for them to lose their jobs.

My suggestions will not put an end to the pride and greed and undercover plots (how ridiculous does that sound in reference to the church?) that often wreck the people of God. In fact, my thoughts may make church a little harder, and a bit less enjoyable. They call on us to be attentive, informed, and engaged.

But that extra effort and commitment might spare your church and your pastor the pain of becoming a headline or gossip topic.

If that isn’t worth the extra effort, then why are we in this in the first place?

The Other Side of the Church Coin

Yes, Christians and church can sometimes show us the worst side of Christianity. But they can also show us the best side of Christ.

 Thanks to all of you for taking time to read the ramblings of (arguably) the “World’s Worst Pastor!” After the first two posts, a couple of you have taken me to task—perhaps rightly so—for being a bit too harsh on the church and Christians in general.

This week, I want to present the alternate take.

Growing up as a pastor’s kid, I was immersed in this church gig from the day I was born. I’ve pretty much seen it all in church, including the warts and brown spots and skeletons in the closet.

But I have also seen the good, the life-changing events, the heartfelt and uplifting spirituality that comes in a Christ-centered community.

Yes, church can be hard, and Christians can be infuriating. But there are also people, places, and relationships that continually lift us out of the muck and mud to a place where we genuinely see Jesus at work, through unfailing love. I would like to show you that side of the church coin as well.

A few weeks after my unfortunate and untimely demise into “Worst Pastor” status, I got a text from David Burgess, my friend of 20+ years who lives in Camden County, NC. I served as David’s pastor at Sawyer’s Creek Baptist Church, in my first experience as the head honcho. David served as my chair of deacons and occasional partner in crime in leading SCBC into the future.

David’s contact was a simple offer to come to Camden, stay a few days, be with old friends and clear my head. There were no queries into what was happening or why, just the extended hand of fellowship and concern.

I got to take him up on that offer on Father’s Day weekend (not an easy thing for me either), escaping the moment for a joyous journey to the past.

It was a glorious homecoming. I celebrated the graduation of students that I dedicated as infants, on the same weekend 18 years previous. I saw a 19-year old who was my daughter’s childhood friend playing the guitar and singing his own songs on stage. It was amazing watching this same kid who used to run around our house looking for “Abbie-baby” belting out his own tunes!

64359696_2207231959314232_3372892608446595072_nPrivileged to be there when they were born, dedicated, and graduated. 

For a pastor, few experiences match that of your first church. Whether it’s good or bad, that taste stays in your mouth for years to come. And you never quite forget it.

Fortunately for me, my time at Sawyer’s Creek was a wonderful journey of growing together with David and others. I was 27 when I took the position as pastor, and David took over as deacon chair at the age of 30. Our lessons learned in that early era are influencing people at SCBC even today.

I got to David’s house very late (as usual) on June 14, about 1:35 a.m. Even in the dark, the first thing that strikes you when you see Camden County is the land, a flat palette of golden wheat fields ripe for harvest, mixed among glowing green corn and soybean plants with months to grow.

2019-06-14 10.13.39


These fields weave a pattern between woodlands and swamps where deer and bear and wild boars run free.

Wind from the coast and inland sounds blows fluently across the paper-flat landscape. The stars are brighter than anything you can see within 10 miles of a city, a glorious sky unencumbered by the glow of any urban sprawl. These stars brighten the fields across from David’s house, and I am swept up in the night breeze and the waves crashing across ripened wheat.

The minute I stepped out of the car to feel the night wind, I know that I am home. And I ask myself:  Why did I ever leave this place?

The short answer gets right to the point. We left because of our sense that God was calling us in a different direction. The longer answer is that we never left this place.

I’ve had two “Stone Tablet” moments in my life that I can clearly identify, where the call of God on our hearts was so clear that it was almost audible. The first was when we decided to go to Pittsburgh Theological Seminary. The second was when we decided to go to Sawyer’s Creek.

Through a wide range of circumstances, we discovered three amazing couples and some younger folks willing to walk this journey with us. David and Laurie, John and Dina, David and Sissy, and the Williams boys (fresh out of high school) got together to form the Young Adult Class at SCBC.

A few of the used-to-be-young adults:  John, Me, David B., Chad Williams

Offering an accurate picture of the bonds we formed is almost impossible. This is surely a church that raised me from a raw, know-it-all kid into an actual pastor (recent events notwithstanding). Suffice it to say that, in so many ways, ALL of us “grew up” together. As we raised our children, labored together, and shared the trials of life, we saw a church full of children and youth evolve into a mission and ministry of love.

We banded together to fight more than one or two church battles—and lost a few of those. But the lessons learned have led to a new era for Sawyer’s Creek.

Now, these same sisters and brothers are the ones who are leading the congregation as it fosters another pastor into a new era of people growing up together. It was exciting to go back and see so many people in church that I knew when I was there.

It was that much more exciting to see a ton of people that I did not know, as people had to scrunch and fight to find a seat in that small historic sanctuary (circa 1790). It was a place of laughter and fun and joyful expressions on the faces of the people.

And that’s where we see the shine on the other side of this coin. While there may be so many in the church who are hurtful and judgmental and destructive to faith, there are that many more that will call us and lift us and raise us up when the struggles of life crash down on our heads.

IMG_5086The view from our kitchen window, every morning for 6 years.

It filled me with misty tears and nostalgia to see the same view that I caught outside the kitchen window of the church parsonage every day for six years. But the hugs and the laughter and the joy of these people who saw me through so much gave me something that I’ve been missing for a while:  Hope.

It would take too many pages to mention all the names of the people in this place that made a huge difference in our lives. As much as the geography of this narrow county moves me, nothing speaks to my soul quite like the hearts and lives of those who molded us and formed us through the ongoing bonds of love.

And this is what church is supposed to be. It’s not an organization, a building, a town, or the ridiculous minutia that turns our hearts and heads away from what is truly important. It is the people of God, seeking to follow God by loving one another.

It is the knowledge that there are those who will wrap their arms around you, no matter where you are or what you do or how badly you mess up. That’s something that we all need, not only in the hard times but at any time in our lives.

Just knowing that those people are there, whether 450 miles away or right down the street, gives us hope to turn the good to great, and the unbearable to manageable.

As much as the church of Christ misses the point, there are always those that remind us of the goodness that God brings in relationship with others. We can find hope in knowing that a piece of our heart remains in every community, and that loving others is never a waste of time. That love continues in them and in us, if we are willing to let it shine. As the people of Sawyer’s Creek, Camden County, and so many other wonderful places continue to do for me.

That is what makes a real church. While it is sometimes hard to see this bright side of the coin, it is a view that makes the fight to follow the Living Christ more than worth it.

Why the “World’s Worst Pastor?”

Last week’s blog certainly drew way more attention than I ever expected. Let me thank you all for taking time to read, comment, like, share, and respond to the ramblings of (arguably) the “World’s Worst Pastor.”

While many people liked the blog, the title apparently bothered a few folks, and it gives me another post. Why call it the “World’s Worst Pastor” blog?

For starters, it’s already worked. People, especially those who don’t know me or don’t necessarily share my faith tradition, get an enormous kick out of the name.

Hey, my friend Jamie Wright made a great cottage industry writing as “The Very Worst Missionary,” so I just thought I’d add Pastor to the mix. And for the record, I asked Jamie’s permission before hijacking her shtick.

Am I the World’s Worst Pastor? That might depend on who you ask, but probably not. Do I think I am a bad pastor? On some days yeah, I certainly do. But most of the time, I think I’m a pretty good pastor. And I have worked extremely hard at being a good pastor.

In all seriousness, some people—maybe a LOT of people–would disagree with my assessment of my own pastoral abilities. Some folks just see “pastor” through a specific set of lenses, and I do not (and likely never will) fit into their view.

Do you remember your school days and your first taste of standardized tests? Back in 2nd grade, we had to “bubble in” the scan-tron sheets filled with circles or ovals. The teachers threatened us with a near-death experience if we did not have 17 No. 2 pencils on hand, or if we DARED to fail to make perfect bubbles for our answers.

Failing to fill in the complete bubble or daring to go outside the bubble lines would result in our answer being marked WRONG!

I will never forget our Room Mom coming to my desk, saying in a soft yet kind yet ominous tone, “Make your circles good.” I was so diligently trying to stay inside the lines that I did not make a complete bubble. Then I was corrected for making my bubbles too big and going outside the lines. Then I was finally corrected for taking too long to fill in my perfect bubbles and not finishing the test.

And that’s what makes me, in some circles, the World’s Worst Pastor. I am sick of wearing myself out trying make the perfect bubble.

It’s time for a faith that colors outside the lines and bursts a few bubbles along the way.

Churches and Christians that are spending so much time trying to make their perfect bubble that they are failing to finish the test. We are so wrapped up in the church calendars, the events we do “every year,” and making sure that Mr. Smith or Mrs. Jones don’t get upset that we cannot even consider following in the footsteps of Jesus Christ.

Following Christ is a messy business. Christ tried to start working in the church (i.e. Synagogue) but they kicked him out. They did this because He wasn’t concerned about how the church bulletin looked. He wasn’t worried that a song was too contemporary or traditional. It did not bother Him that someone sat in the wrong seat or that something didn’t happen “every year.”

Jesus sought ministry that was dirty and messy and chaotic. It was walking along filthy roads, hanging out with a group of 12 guys—smelly fishermen, murderers, tax collectors, and traitors–who probably would not even speak to each other if Jesus had not called them. And Jesus did this because He had zero interest in creating any kind of perfect bubble.

The mantra of the “World’s Worst Pastor” fits because I usually do not meet many of those typical, traditional images that people have of a pastor. I am certainly not the least bit interested in trying to color in their perfect bubble image.

Here is one example. People have regularly complained to me that I care too much about serving others, feeding the poor, overcoming racial barriers, etc. One former church member even said to me, “All we hear about is feeding the hungry and helping the homeless, and we just get tired of that every Sunday!” She proceeded to say that was all well and good, but she had never heard a pastor who talked so much about that “stuff.”

What she failed to realize is that I took this as a compliment.

If Jesus does anything in His life on earth, He teaches us that serving others is not just a part of the Gospel. It IS the Gospel. If preaching too much about these things makes me one of the World’s Worst Pastors, I am more than fine with it. I hope love for others always comes before perfecting our bubbles.

In dealing with people, my first move is not to call people out because they use a few four-letter words or have a few beers or smoke cigarettes. Nor is it to judge their clothing, question their sexuality, investigate their past, or ask them, “Are you a Christian?” In fact, I try not to ask that question. Ever.

(Even worse, I must confess that I like beer. And sometimes a whiskey. And an occasional cigar—all of which really boost my Worst Pastor rating).

What I try to do is get to know who they are and what they’re about, and I attempt to give them a genuine look at who I am. It’s not always pretty, on either side. But it is real and genuine, eye-opening and life-giving. And I think that is exactly what Jesus tried to do, while calling us to follow the example.

Jesus’ coloring abilities fall far afield of our preconceived lines. But perfect in our eyes was never His goal. Perfect bubbles for pastors are our creation—a defense against the messy, dirty, gut-wrenching life that Jesus calls us to live.

Please keep in mind that I am not saying, in any way, that my definition of Pastor is perfectly in line with Jesus. It’s quite the opposite. Yes, I am sometimes even the worst at being the Worst! I’m simply trying to learn to pursue Christ more fully in my life and work, rather than some notion of pastoral perfection.

No, I am weary from trying to make the perfect bubble. I am interested in those who fall short, or far outside the lines. This is where Jesus was, and is, and where I hope to learn to be. That’s why some people might call me the “World’s Worst Pastor.”

All things considered, that title might not be so bad

What a Pastor Can Learn in a Pizza Kitchen

As many of my friends are aware, my career as professor/pastor abruptly came to an end a few weeks ago. Just so you know, I did not commit some horrid moral, ethical, legal, or Biblical violation. It was just time to move in a different direction.

And what did that direction happen to be? Well, I am now a cook at Farmhouse Pizza in Greenville, SC.

How’s that for career development?

Hence the name of the blog, because you may be a guy who made a few missteps and mistakes if you go from professor to pastor to pizza chef. But never mind all that. There is a silver lining to this looming, somewhat dark cloud.

I thought I knew a lot about the “real world” because I spent my days dealing with people and students and helping with all the variety of problems that they may have in life. A couple months in a restaurant kitchen is teaching me that I’ve lived in an ivory tower most of my life.

The truth is that I don’t have a clue, and neither does the church. We are absolutely naïve to what a lot of people endure just to survive from day to day, check to check. We are equally clueless to think that what we are doing on a Sunday morning is going to connect with people cooking food, tending bar, washing dishes, or waiting tables.

We do not speak their language, either figuratively or sometimes literally. We do not have any comprehension of how hard they work, how little they make, and how they struggle just to exist until the next payday. They are students, gamers, musicians, DJs, or maybe just life-long restaurant employees. Some are college dropouts who couldn’t take on the debt of tuition. Some are ex-cons. Some were once homeless.

They might bounce from one restaurant to the next, taking whatever job will give them the best pay or the best hours at any given. The last two months of my life officially ended the mythology that restaurant workers are lazy or don’t “deserve” more pay because they didn’t get a college degree (yet). It’s thankless job, and we work our asses off for peanuts.

To those who say that anyone could work in a restaurant: You’re wrong. Dead wrong. I’m in pretty solid shape for a 48 year old man. I ran a 10k in 53 minutes this spring. And yet, 8 hours in that kitchen on a Friday night will almost put me face down on the floor.

I bet it would do the same to a lot of people who complain about the idea of raising the minimum wage.

Too many people in the church either don’t know or don’t care about the lives of people who are fighting these battles. They ignore their sorry paychecks, long hours, exhausting work or poor treatment that they endure.

We are too far too preoccupied and passing judgement on the fact that they drop a lot of F-bombs, serve/drink alcohol, and do not want to take their one day off a week (if that) to get dressed up and sit in a pew while someone preaches at them. (Just a side note:  I bet most people would let an expletive fly if they burn themselves on a 650-degree oven).

And heaven help us if we ever get onto the topic of the marijuana that some smoke on a fairly regular basis.

Here’s the thing:  The folks with whom I work are not at all anti-God, anti-Christian, or even anti-church. I regularly talk with them about issues of faith and life, or their struggles with belief. We discuss their church experiences and why they didn’t necessarily stay with it as they became adults. There is often depth, thought, and serious self-reflection in these discussions.

In fact, they are often more transparent, honest, genuine, and real than many of the people I have met in church. They’re not perfect, but they’re also not pretending that they are. There is no effort to cover up their sins and flaws. And unlike many Christians that I know–including myself–they are much more likely to own their baggage in an effort to overcome those issues.

I am learning almost as much from them as I did from being in the church most of my life.

They are exhausted by the judgment, the pettiness, the minutia, and the hypocrisy of those who call themselves “Christian.”  They are tired of people who treat them like a target to be sighted, marked, skewered, and tagged in the name of the Lord. They have no patience for preachers hollering at them or people refusing to listen to them in their “un-Godly” state of existence.

Their view is shaped by those who have told them how wrong they are, and perhaps by the dirty looks they received when they walked into a congregation with their tattoos and piercings. It is skewed by the people who left them a Bible tract instead of cash as a “tip,” or wrote “Jesus loves you” on the tip line of a receipt.

Yes, folks, that really happens. If you’ve done it—or still do—please stop. They’re not likely to care for your evangelism if they can’t pay their bills.

What occurs to me is that none of these people would have darkened the door of most of my former churches, or maybe any other church. And I’m not sure there is a thing that any church could do to change that. It’s going to take much, much more than a drummer and a fancy video system.

I am now pondering how we create space to connect with people who live in a world that we cannot possibly understand. Maybe in our educated and comfortable state, we are just too far removed from the reality that most people face every day, of how to get by to the next check or how to get enough sleep to have the energy to get through until closing time.

What most of my co-workers seem to want, more than anything, is to see genuine people who are willing to call themselves Christian. They want to know that people are willing to listen, and to act as if they care. They just want to see people act like good people, in line with the things that they profess to believe.

Right now, they overwhelmingly believe those to be rare qualities among church folk. It’s up to Christians to change that view, through actions rather than words.

At this point, I am not sure I have any interest in going back to another church setting where my primary role is to care for the flock or “manage” the daily life of a congregation. While this is worthwhile work, it may not be MY work. I feel a calling to reach out and get to know those people who are out there that feel abandoned by the feel-good platitudes that too often define “church.”

We probably can’t live for a long time on a pizza baker’s pay, but I would really like to find an avenue for connecting with those who are truly lost. No, they are not “lost” in the traditional Evangelical sense of the term, in danger of the fires of some invention of Hell. They are simply spiritual nomads who have no true place to connect and feel at ease to explore their purpose or calling or the work of God in their lives (in whatever form that may take).

The traditional church is rarely—if ever—going to make space to hear or listen to the concerns of the pizza bakers or bar tenders and thousands of other service workers that make the city of Greenville what it is. Instead of returning to one of the Ivory Tower settings where I have spent most of my life, maybe it’s time to see what the real world is.

I’ve lived there far too long, in the cozy Christianity of Americanized faith that largely disregards those who are not part of the club. Somehow, we have to re-discover the thorny path of a suffering, persecuted, down-to-earth Christ that both encounters and engages people beyond any church walls.

Someone has to sit down and listen to people, in an effort to connect with those whose lives are not like ours. Where do we find that space? I am not sure. But I just do not see how we find that in traditional church.

Maybe this is the opportunity to look outside of the typical. I have yet to figure out what it all means for me or my calling, but this is certainly proving to be an adventure. At some point, we need to stop writing about the people we cannot reach with the love of Christ and start doing things to reach people with the love of Christ. And that is going to look dramatically different from what we are doing now.

The Lord only knows what this may be, or what it may look like. The only thing for sure is that it starts with a willingness to step down a path that is unfamiliar, and possibly treacherous. Such a path may be exactly the one Christ needs us to follow.

Education Reform Is More than May 1

Teacher salaries stink. In the south, they stink worse than just about anywhere else.

Depending on which statistical analysis you read, five of the 10 worst states at paying teachers are in the south. And it is virtually impossible to find any list where a southern state makes the 10 best in paying their teachers.

Many voters in our communities are aware of this, believe this, and even support changing this. They talk about how terrible it is that teachers get paid peanuts to educate our children, while someone gets millions of dollars to throw or catch or hit a ball.

It’s just over a month since a group of 10,000 teachers marched on the state house in South Carolina, seeking that level of respect that they richly deserve. Unfortunately, the person who should fight with them and for them let the moment of truth pass by completely disrespecting those that she partially represents.

Molly Spearman seems like a competent educator and provides some solid work for the students and teachers of this state. But her dismissive rhetoric towards this teacher’s March on Columbia demonstrates that our government leaders, even now, just do not “get it.”

Spearman made quite a production by flaunting her willingness to substitute in classrooms while teachers marched in Columbia. In so doing, she pulled out jargon that is typical of a second-grade teacher reprimanding a student for chewing gum.

“…I cannot support teachers walking out on their obligations to South Carolina students, families, and the thousands of hardworking bus drivers, cafeteria workers, counselors, aides, and custodial staff whose livelihoods depend on our schools being operational” (Superintendent of Education Molly Spearman, April 29).

Side note:  I wonder if Superintendent Spearman is this concerned about bus drivers, cafeteria workers, counselors, aides, and custodial staff at budget time, when she needs to be fighting to have more of them and to pay them a living wage?

This is a stunning example of a missed opportunity—again—by educational and government leaders in this state. Mrs. Spearman’s comments come across as condescending and tone-deaf. At best, they show us how our “leaders” in Columbia just don’t get it.

Here’s the proof:  Where was Mrs. Spearman on the Thursday following the march, when school districts across the state ran short on substitutes for teachers who were sick or had family emergencies? Did she make herself available to drive or ride a bus because there is a shortage of bus drivers? Did she offer herself as a teaching assistant, or give teachers a bathroom break, or grade papers, or fill out those forms that teachers all love?

This grandstanding and showboating in opposition to the people who serve in these conditions, day in and day out, is exactly why we continue to fail both our students and our educators in the state of South Carolina. And it’s time to stop.

I still remember Governor Richard Riley’s “penny sales tax” initiative in 1984. This would solve our funding issues for South Carolina schools, improve our test scores, and “raise the bar” for public education in the state. It probably helped; but, like most single-answer solutions, it was a temporary fix for a long-term problem.

Year after year, the status quo remains. And year after year, people continue to miss the greater point that teachers want you to understand. This is not just about money. It is also about RESOURCES and RESPECT. While efforts such as Governor Riley’s initiative address part of the issue, we cannot expect to do one thing to fix such a complex problem.

For decades, teachers asked nicely for this to be fixed. The time has come for them to act, and we should reward their patience rather than critiquing it. The only people who have ignored their obligations are the people who should have fixed this decades ago, and that includes Mrs. Spearman.

State legislators declared this the “Year of Education” in South Carolina. They then went about proposing legislation that included limited or after-the-fact input from the educators themselves. And when I say educators, I am not referring to the bureaucrats and politicians and administrators who think they understand what’s happening in the classrooms based on some data sheet. I’m talking about the TEACHERS who live and work and carry this burden each and every day.

The student who comes to school with a growling stomach? The one who stays up all night playing video games because they are unsupervised? The other who is homeless and has no place to shower or wash clothes? Teachers own those issues. They bring the issues of their students home with them, and it eats away at their well-being. And these teachers know that they may be the last bridge to a better life for the children and young people of South Carolina.

To propose legislation without talking to them extensively and on every conceivable level is yet another slap in the face to an underpaid, disrespected group of people who are vital to the future of this state.

Keep in mind that public school teachers do not get to choose their students. They do not get to select the “best of the best” or hold a competition or charge a fee to go to their institution. They take everyone, and do all that they can to lead, guide, and direct—without judgment and without recourse.

That is certainly a trait to be respected and admired with an offering of adequate salary, above average resources, and the highest possible level of respect.

Here’s the thing:  We’ve discussed this issue for years with little or no results. What the teachers and their supporters did on May 1 was an outpouring of frustration for decades of inaction on the part of the state and its leadership. They waited longer than almost any other state (such as Kentucky or West Virginia) to spring into action. Why would we belittle that patience and commitment rather than rewarding it?

Mrs. Spearman could accomplish so much more by supporting teachers AND students in this decades-long battle. Perhaps try something along the lines of “I completely support teachers in fighting for what is best for the students and families of South Carolina—including their own. And I am substituting to make sure that teachers can freely attend the march on May 1.”

We’ve known for years and years that teachers deserve more respect, appreciation, resources, and salary. It is high time for administrators and politicians to recognize this reality and get busy doing something about it! And they can start by listening to teachers before inventing ideas.

Let’s be honest: EVERY year has to be the “Year of Education.” We constantly have to upgrade and adjust and prepare for what the future may bring. Doing this means paying teachers what they deserve, and giving them the respect that they earn on a daily basis. This will empower them to be what students need for them to be.

Our teachers and our students deserve that much—and not just for one year, but every year. If those in charge of policy would recognize that, then days such as May 1 might not be necessary.

My encouragement to you is this:  Do not stop writing your legislators. Do not stop protesting. Do not stop raising your voice. It is going to take more than one day to truly get the attention of government and administration. Although we’ve fought for years, we have to keep battling for the well-being of our state and its students.

We have talked long enough. Let us continue to challenge the policy makers to stop grandstanding and start doing.

Theology May Be the Primary in SBC Abuse Scandal

We now know that the Catholic Church is not the only one dealing with a flood of sexual abuse issues. As if we really needed anyone to tell us.

The three-part expose in the Houston Chronicle exposes the proliferation and cover-ups surrounding abuse and assault in the nation’s largest protestant denomination.

A myriad of causes resulted in these assaults and the stomach-turning episodes of sweeping them under the rug, all while guilty ministers shuffled from church to church and ministry-to-ministry. Lack of oversight, preparation, knowledge or understanding, clear policies, and a naïve belief that “This could never happen here” appear to be on the list.

One cause of this that should be obvious, even as Southern Baptists deny it, is bad theology, based on questionable interpretations of Scripture.

Southern Baptists have long trumpeted two theological concepts that are contributing factors to these scandals: the authority of the pastor, and the inferiority of women. Keep in mind that these are far from the only cause, but they may well be primaries in this recent revelation.

In the late 1970s, these doctrines became hallmarks for those who believed in the “inerrant, infallible Word of God.” Pastoral authority, while not an official policy, became standard practice among the surging fundamentalist movement.

In reality, it goes without saying. The pastor is at the center of the sanctuary in your standard SBC church. The spoken word and interpretation of scripture is paramount. Pastors may be revered or despised, but they are always the center of attention in an SBC congregation.

But in the “Conservative Resurgence” that fully bloomed in the 1980s, this doctrine became all but official policy among the SBC leadership. Oh, it was not written in stone, but it was overwhelming nonetheless.

At the same time, the doctrine that pastoral authority belongs to males alone became all but official policy. The SBC codified this 20 years ago, with changes to the Baptist Faith & Message in both 1998 and 2000.

In fact, some Southern Baptists did not believe that this doctrine went far enough, saying that women should not even teach men.

So what does this have to do with 700+ victims of sexual abuse?

Here’s the thing: When the prevailing doctrine says that men (and often ONE man) is an ultimate authority, it is far too easy to sweep damaging sins under the rug. While church leaders might acknowledge it, they can easily brush it aside to keep from actually dealing with it.

After all, if a man is “called of God” then we must protect his status at all costs. Protecting the called is our task, and to question this is the same as questioning the Triune God himself (and, of course, His inerrant, infallible Bible).

In a system that establishes singular authority over and above accountability, corruption will have an opportunity to thrive. You cannot have transparency in a theology that grants a pastor or any other person “divine right” that is beyond reproach.

Accountability is even less likely in a system that denies full humanity to 50% of the population. No matter how you dress it up (complementarianism, Biblical authority, God’s design, etc.), such a system makes women less than, supposedly by divine declaration.

By definition, this ingrained view of female inferiority makes them more vulnerable, even within the supposedly “safe space” of the church. It allows for victim creation, blaming, and shaming rather than addressing the perpetrators and predators.

Let us be honest here. Sexual abuse occurs in traditions that are liberal, fundamentalist, and anywhere in between. Sexual predators and abusers will find opportunities in any possible location. This issue is not limited to fundamentalist traditions or those that limit female leadership.

However, it is entirely possible that such predators find a much more fertile field when they will go unquestioned, with unfettered access and no fear of accountability.

A plethora of SBC ministers and leaders are now coming forward to confess their sins, as well they should. However, none of them are seriously addressing these two disturbing doctrines. Some are even advocating the protection of these doctrines as essential, even as the denomination struggles to find solutions.

There is also the convenient excuse of “local church autonomy” as a reason why they cannot exercise any accountability over local congregations or pastors who protect pedophiles and shame victims.

The irony? We can violate the principle of “local church autonomy” if you are associated with homosexuality or have a woman as pastor. But sexual abuse falls in the “hands off” category.

Selective application of this ideal simply creates plausible deniability, in another lame attempt to hold no one accountable for a heinous crime.

The Body of Christ is called to work together, with all members being fully accountable and essential to one another. This Biblical and theological principle of God’s work in Christ and through the Holy Spirit should be the standard. We have to advocate for this over and above ineffective and inaccurate concepts over male superiority.

Until the Southern Baptist Convention decides to stop hiding behind the Bible and church polity, the crimes and cover-ups will continue. Until the SBC and its member churches get honest about their theological and doctrinal issues, accountability will be the exception rather than the rule.

An Article that Demands a Response

The views expressed in this blog are those of the author and do not in any way reflect any policy or position of any other institution, affiliates, partners, departments, donors or alumni. They are mine, and mine alone. Disagree? Feel free to contact me! (ONLY me)

I just couldn’t let it go. And for that, I may well be sorry before this post is finished and all three of my followers pick it up.

Nevertheless, here it comes.

There is nothing to prompt me back to the writing desk quite like another article (one of 370,000 or so) about young adults leaving the church. The latest offering in our local papers details the reasons, and discusses the issue with ministers who supposedly work with 20 and 30-somethings.

(Note:  This appears to be curated content from the Nashville Tennessean).

Notice that I am avoiding terms like “Millennials” or “Gen-Z,” because such monikers may have devolved too far into very toxic and overblown assumptions about anyone under the age of 35. For this post, young adults will suffice.

There are a ton of quotes and points and stats in this article that deserve attention and response, the least of which is not the ongoing tone of these tomes about young adults and church. I’ll jump past the general attitude that these are cattle who have escaped the pen, and we have to heard them back while working on ways to build a stronger fence and secure the gate so they’ll never get out again.

But I digress…

The most eye-catching and, to me, troubling aspect of the entire piece was a paraphrase from the interview with Chris Brooks, who leads the Kairos young adult ministry at Brentwood Baptist in Nashville. “He loves young adults. They are selfish, but also still trying to figure out who they are and what they want to do, Brooks said. It leads to lively and challenging discussions at church, which he welcomes.”

Clearly, Pastor Brooks is engaging this group and their culture. But why must he, or the author in her paraphrase, continue to shell out the tag of SELFISH that plagues descriptions of this young adult generation? I find this tag horrifically overblown, overused, and not entirely accurate.

Here’s the thing that we miss when calling out these selfish young adults: We’re all selfish, and that includes people in the church. People of ALL ages.

Are young adults any more selfish than people who get mad because the church tries a different style of music? Or the elderly person who walks out of the church because they find out that it’s Youth Sunday and they don’t want to stay if we’re not having “real church?” (Yes, I saw it and heard it).

Are they any more selfish than the long-time member who won’t give up their seat to a visitor—or to move closer to the front, even if they can’t hear a lick in the back? Or the person who says, “We’ve always done it that way and we don’t want to change it!”?

At the church I pastor, a lady once told me about a former member (that I never knew) who was present when our church began in 2003. And this lady was fond of saying, “I’ve seen a lot of changes since then, and I’ve been opposed to every one of them!”

Now, the lady said this in jest. But we often find at least a sliver of truth in a joke–and that joke sounds like a pretty textbook definition of selfish.

After working with youth and young adults for the majority of my ministry career, I will say that their “selfish” comes across a bit differently than others. But different does not mean that it’s any worse. Maybe it just sounds worse because we’ve had longer to learn to formalize our version to not seem quite so blunt and direct. Or maybe we just think we’ve been around long enough to be entitled to our selfishness, a problem that I see very directly in the church.

No matter how we dress it up, it doesn’t change the fact that it’s there. As my dad loved to say, a little paint will make any old barn look better, but it doesn’t keep it from rotting on the inside. (And yes, I love to the honorary citations to my dad’s favorite quotes—all 12 of them!).

Young adults are pressed with more time constraints, concerns, debt, uncertainty, and baggage than many of us had to carry. Whatever argument or justification we pull from “the old days,” the church has to recognize that the new day is different—and it’s going to continue to be different.

Young adults often develop serious (and critical) questions about the Christianity they grew up learning, as Pastor Brooks points out.

I pastor a church that has a small handful of people under 40, and maybe four “twenty-somethings.” Some of them are single, some still in school, and some married with very young children. I actually consider it an honor when they come to church, because I know how pressed they are for time and energy and money. I know that they feel very unsure about who they are and where they’re going, so it’s a privilege to have a part in walking that path with them.

Do I wish we had more? Certainly. Are we fully prepared to engage them? Absolutely not! And we cannot prepare for this ministry—or actually, any other ministry–until we deal with our own selfish nature (and yes, that includes the pastor).

That means recognizing something very crucial that the article points out: Young adults are “still trying to figure out who they are…”

This is the hope and promise and energy that young adults can bring into the life of the church. It’s not about circling the wagons and shoring up the fences to keep them in, but it’s actually about tearing down those fences to let them out!

Followers of Christ should always be trying to figure out who we are, and who we are called to be in whatever place we find ourselves. We cannot be disciples if we think we have it all figured out because we cannot change and grow if we assume that we have all the answers. Age may give greater wisdom and patience, but it does not mean we’re at the end of the journey.

Instead, why not embrace the challenging, questioning generation? Why not let their questions lead us to learn, as we respectfully share our own perspective with them?

The young adults who come back to church may not be there every Sunday. They may never go to Sunday School or become a deacon/elder or even embrace many of the formalized structures or long-standing traditions. But they may well be the ones that challenge us back to a questioning Christianity, and a faith of critical thinking that can change and grow throughout our lives.

This is the type of Christianity that entices us to selfless rather than selfish, to let go of what was as we grab onto what is—and what can be.

Perhaps the thing we most need to do is quit getting angry with young adults for being “selfish” and deal with the plank in our own eye first. We might then discover that they are much more willing to give of themselves, if we will walk along with them to find out who we are called to be.