Have you ever wondered why pastors who have been disqualified from ministry so rarely concede to the reality of their disqualification and just move on? Have you ever wondered why they so often disappear for a year or so and then turn up at another church or in a different denomination? I have wondered often and have formed a theory about the matter.1
My theory is that many pastors have no Plan B. Most of the ones I have known grew up in the church, went to seminary when they were young, and have only ever known pastoral ministry. This means that when they disqualify themselves from that vocation, they disqualify themselves from the only vocation they have ever known and the only one for which they have the requisite knowledge and skills. All their contacts and connections and all their competencies and credentials are church-based. So when they are forced to face the reality of their disqualification, they justify moving from one church or denomination to another, reasoning that a restart in a new ministry context is preferable to a fresh start in an entirely different context. For many, though not for all, it’s ministry or nothing.
I think this is something all “professional Christians” need to be aware of and concerned about.2 They need to be aware that if they ever disqualify themselves from ministry, they may be tempted to cling to it simply because they have no fallback, no other career they can easily take up instead. Not only that, but few other careers will offer them the sense of respect they gained in church leadership or provide the level of compensation they may have enjoyed if they were well advanced in that career. Hence, if the time comes when they seriously violate the qualifications for ministry, they may be tempted to justify staying on regardless. They may do what so many others have done—disappear for a time, then reappear in a new denomination or a new city.
Here is a question I have found myself pondering often over the past few months: Is my life authentic? I have no great fears in that regard, yet I have seen enough men stumble and fall who also had no great fears, men who probably deceived themselves before they deceived anyone else. They would have insisted their faith was authentic up to the very moment their sin was found out and their ministry collapsed. They would have rationalized even their most disqualifying sins because the alternative was simply too difficult to face.
So I ask myself: Is my life authentic, or am I merely going through the motions because I need to—because my career is bound up in this Christian context? There was a time when my life was structured around a different career. My skills were in the area of network administration, and my career depended upon them. But over time, as writing became a feasible vocation, I left the other one behind and went all-in with writing. All my old skills have faded and become obsolete. All my old contacts have moved on and become distant. If I disqualify myself from this life, what would be left for me? Gig work, I suppose. Maybe I could find a job in something related to writing, but it’s an industry that is being heavily disrupted and is paring workforces rather than expanding them. Maybe I could retrain in a whole new field, but opportunities to restart at 50 must be limited.
Is my life authentic? I believe it is. Am I qualified for ministry in my local church and, therefore, in the church beyond? I believe I am, by God’s grace. Still, I pray often that the Lord will give me a tender conscience, make me sensitive to sin, and give me insight into my own heart and life. I pray often that I will live transparently before my family, friends, and fellow elders so they can know who I really am. I pray often that they would have the wisdom, courage, and insight to point out to me what I may not be willing or able to see in myself. I plead and pray that I would not be the kind of man who clings to a calling he has already forfeited, or who holds to something because I need it or cannot bear to let it go.
I pray these things and more like them because I have seen so many men go down dead-end roads, and I dare not presume that I am in any way superior to them. I dare not assume that in my worst hour I would be any more willing to concede to reality and necessity. May God grant grace to me and to all who “need” ministry that we can maintain our integrity and serve him faithfully.
- No, this wasn’t written about whatever scandal you’re thinking of. I purposely wrote this at a time when there were no new scandals in the news. ↩︎
- I know “professional Christian” can be used pejoratively, but I use it respectfully to refer to those Christians whose vocation is tied to church or ministry-based work that depends upon maintaining Christian character. ↩︎
