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From: July/August 1995 GROUP Magazine
Keywords: Tension Power Conflict Church Staff
Ending the Cold War

How and why church staffs experience crippling tension, and how to move with power in the midst of conflict
It's hard working out conflict with people whose theology/worldview doesn't acknowledge struggle and sin except in black-and-white categories such as adultery, stealing, and not submitting to authority.
Our demand for tension-free interactions is really a demand for the "troublemakers" to muzzle their convictions and passions.
Peacemaking requires movement, engagement, opening yourself up to being misunderstood, and having the willingness to be hurt and to suffer well on behalf of others.

By Jack Drageaux

At an outdoor wedding reception, my wife and another pastor's wife were sitting by themselves, engaged in an animated conversation. As I got closer, the other woman, laughing, touched my wife's arm and said, "Yes, yes, but wait, what about this one...I hear it all the time: ÔI just think your husband is the most wonderful man! It must be great being married to him and seeing him on more than just Sundays!'"
A new explosion of knowing laughter erupted. I had to smile. I knew far too well, though less than they did, how sadly humorous it was.
Smiling and shaking my head, I was reminded of similar comments, directed at me, about how great it must be to work every day with the pastoral staff. With a deep sigh, I thought, "If they only knew..."
My mind wandered through years of very ordinary, frequently boring, sometimes tense, and occasionally painful Monday afternoon staff meetings. How could I sit with 11 pastors for two hours after a staff lunch and feel so lonely, disconnected, and empty?
The three of us who worked with young people-the junior high, senior high, and college pastors-frequently needed to retreat together to some "free-refill on drinks" fast-food place so we could find things to laugh about. Unfortunately, it was usually about something that had just happened in the meeting and was, therefore, at a fellow staff member's expense. We could've made better choices.
Each of us wanted to be part of a real, God-honoring team. We longed for meaningful interactions and some sense of genuine connection. The problem, though, was that we didn't know where to begin, what it would cost us, and in the end, if it was really worth it.
Obstacles to Real Relationship
There are daunting obstacles, not unique to our staff, that get in the way of real relationship-building among church staffers.
1. The biggest obstacle is generational. Our staff had a couple 50- and 60-something men, a bunch of Boomers, and a few of us twentysomethingers. The generation gaps created fissures among us in the areas of lifestyle, authority, modes of worship, appropriate and inappropriate church manners, struggles and conflict, work ethic, money, Jesus' impact on reality, and so on.
Alone, these differences seemed manageable. But they became huge stumbling blocks when real issues were on the table-issues such as the church budget, church vision, interpersonal conflicts, and why high schoolers and college students don't like (read hate) the worship service.
Even in our relationship with Jesus, does "reality bite?" Or is daily life, "Perfect submission, all is at rest, I in my Savior am happy and blest?" It's hard working out conflict with people whose theology/worldview doesn't acknowledge struggle and sin except in black-and-white categories such as adultery, stealing, and not submitting to authority. Power plays, hiding behind "reason," and pulling out the hammer of tradition and custom are usually not sins open to discussion. Yet everyday friction and relational distance are rarely the result of theft or adultery.
2. A second obstacle is the false expectation that just because we're all pastors, we'll automatically get along. Nothing could be further from the truth. There are pastors with whom I've collaborated in the church that I'd never spend time with in any other setting. It's not that I don't like them; we have absolutely nothing in common (outside of ministry) that would normally attract two people.
Our ministry bond helped us work well together, respect one another, and have a meaningful, professional relationship. But it wasn't enough to guarantee a mutual, deeply encouraging, accountable connection that could be called ideal, soul-nurturing fellowship. Even so, don't we wrestle with the clear expectation that "co-laboring" opens the door to real intimacy with one another?
When tensions rise between staff members or between pastors and elders, our commitment to the "big, happy family" image is often stronger than our commitment to deal with the messy issues that caused the conflict. Our demand for tension-free interactions is really a demand for the "troublemakers" to muzzle their convictions and passions.
In the midst of conflict, weak leaders frequently play their "denial" trump card by saying things such as, "We've discussed this enough, we need to make a decision," or "We'll table this discussion until next meeting." The former attempts to crush tension and disagreement by obliterating individual differences via a quick decision, immediately followed by an appeal for a "Christian," pro-team, supportive attitude. The latter attempts to sweep tension under the table by postponing touchy issues until passionately invested parties give up. I've watched issues that were originally presented as "pressing" get tabled to death through 11 months of meetings. The expectations of how we should function get in the way of us truly functioning.
3. The third obstacle is the tremendous pressure that pastors and church workers live under. For youth pastors, this pressure can be encircling and suffocating. "Why does youth ministry cost so much money? And why aren't your kids more involved in the rest of the church, supporting other (read my) programs?" Many parents don't know how to handle their kids and are angry you don't make a bigger difference. The custodial staff doesn't always understand why your programs are so messy and why kids today are not as respectful of property as they used to be. You could expand this list a hundredfold.
And then you walk into a staff meeting of men and women, all under equal but different pressures, to discuss how to share limited resources such as secretarial time, meeting places, equipment, budget money, volunteers, and even the more expensive neon copy paper. Or perhaps today you're trying to hammer out your church's vision statement or doing a team-building activity. These competing pressures open the door to power struggles.
The Use and Abuse of Power
Whether it's pressures, false expectations, generational differences, or just plain old sin, power is the key player in our interactions. Since most Christians believe power is inherently bad, they use it covertly in ways that can be easily justified. "Stealth" power is used sinfully for self-protection and the desperate, yet unnamed, desire to relieve the pressure. And yet in rare circumstances, I've seen power lived out well in the name of love-in the name of the highly disruptive Lord Jesus Christ who says to each of us, "I'm committed to make your heart like mine."
Stefan was our staff's youngest and newest member. He also spoke powerfully with an honest sadness that somehow cut through the fog of our frustrating interactions. Others said similar things, but were not heard because they were playing by the rules of power and conquest. Stefan offered us the gift of his own suffering. He reflected back to us the painful impact of our actions. Because he did so without punching us, we were left to wrestle with the ugly results of our sin. Since most of us had good hearts, we heard Christ's call to repentance.
Once we were discussing the touchy issue of elder-pastoral staff relationships. The pastor who'd groomed most of the elders was growing more and more defensive as they were being criticized. As the high school pastor tried to make a point, his comments drew sarcastic statements such as: "We've tried that before...all your generation wants to do is destroy everything, start from scratch, and in the end remake exactly what we have now," and "You already think your huge budget is too small; some of us have to think of the interests of the whole church."
Finally, Stefan spoke. He looked the offending pastor in the eye and said sadly: "I'm confused. If you really think he's like that, how can you encourage parents to entrust their children to his ministry? What do you think he's going to walk away from this meeting feeling?" There was complete silence. Then someone else added, "I hope you're curious enough to ask him right now what he's feeling and secure enough in Christ to hear his answer." Good things happened.
When power is wielded abusively (either at you or at someone in your presence), the power of Christ asks us to suffer redemptively. We're called to be peacemakers, not peacewishers, peace-by-being-passive, or peace-by-submitting-to-the-heavy-handedness-of-others. Peacemaking requires movement, engagement, opening yourself up to being misunderstood, and having the willingness to be hurt and to suffer well on behalf of others. This is a core essence of what it means to be Christlike.
We must be willing to speak the truth in love. If we are not willing to embrace the pain of relational distance and mistreatment, we'll always speak out of self-protection with a sinful edge in our voice. Stefan took a risk when he spoke. On occasion, his comments were dismissed. His willingness to embrace pain only earned him more. But when he attempted to move powerfully in Christ, Christ shared his rejection and pain. He also touched hearts deeply. And, ironically, there was less tension and a greater willingness to enter into it.
Moving Like Jesus
Imagine for a moment what it would look like if Christ joined your staff. I think he would speak boldly, love deeply, be misunderstood, be rebuked (like he was by Peter), and maybe even slapped for blasphemy (like he was by the Sanhedrin). And he would be powerful enough to keep on speaking, wise enough to know what was worth dying for, and secure enough to embrace the pain of being misunderstood without buying into the "you're right, I know it's all my fault" syndrome.
The Bible teaches that life is tension, full of pain and unfulfilled longings, and that we live in a cursed world full of thorns and thistles. Christlike power steps into the tension and stays in the tension without hope of perfect resolution until we enter his glory. As he continually does with us, Jesus asks us to do with others-especially our fellow sub-shepherds.
Jack Drageaux is a pastor in Texas.