13 years ago next month I graduated college and began “full time vocational ministry” work. Of my contemporaries who did the same, a good chunk of have abandoned that pursuit, some because they fell morally or ethically, even more because they just didn’t see the point anymore. I can think of an even larger number of “heroes” of the American church who have publicly and painfully crashed and burned – great leaders who turned out to be living a double-life. Frankly, it’s hard to have heroes anymore – and maybe we were never supposed to.
Though I work a day job to support the ever-increasing family, I still am honored to preach, teach, and otherwise participate in a local community of faith. I still consider making disciples my primary life’s work and purpose. And I’ve been thinking a lot lately about those who have left that work, especially through their own destructive choices – and how not to become one of them.
I read a book awhile back called “Why Great Men Fall.” It spends a lot of time working out the process that leads great men and women (okay mostly it talks about men) to a place of moral, ethical compromise, ending with public scandal and humiliation (think Kobe Bryant, Jimmy Swaggart, Tiger Woods, Ted Haggard). I think everyone with any sort of leadership aspirations or a current leadership position – especially in church land – ought to take a run through. The first chapter left an indelible imprint on me, and so I want to share the basic thoughts with you, dear four readers:
Great moral and ethical failure often begins with a sense of entitlement; the feeling that “I deserve this.”
To quote Agent Smith, “You believe you are special, that the normal rules don’t apply to you.” A light bulb went off when I read this. I have run into this attitude with alarming frequency – the idea that because of my position, hard work, or abilities, I deserve some consideration. To quote the book:
I’m the boss; where would they be without me?
I’ve worked hard for this company; they need to take good care of me. I’ll do whatever I feel like doing.
I’m the anointed one, the pastor, apostle, prophet, bishop, and I can do this because of who I am.
The church version is to call it “blessing” or “grace.” The interesting thing about “grace” and “blessing” is that, in the Biblical sense of those words, grace and blessing aren’t things you demand because you deserve them, but gifts God gives despite our unworthiness.
No leader who fails begins their slide with adultery or embezzlement. They begin with entitlement. I deserve benefits, or pay, or extra time off. I deserve gifts or words of praise. I deserve (and demand)Â loyalty to me and my opinions and ideas. I deserve sexual gratification whenever I want it. Once we begin to believe these things are owed to us, it is a short walk to the act of compromising our principles to get them.
It’s astounding to me how much some church leaders think they are owed because they preach the Good News of the homeless carpenter from backwater Galilee. Some demand a large salary or “honorarium” for their ministry. Some demand time to pursue their past times and call this part of their “ministry.” Tragically, still others avoid accountability, refusing to allow anyone to question their lifestyle, spending habits, or relationships with members of the opposite sex. I could give numerous examples I have observed personally, but my name is on this blog, and the Internet is forever :-). Truly – my point is not to call anyone out (except maybe me), but to post a warning sign: this can happen to me(and you).
I think God gives us examples of entitlement in Scripture (like David and Bathsheba) as well as in our personal experience as a warning to each of us – the beginning of many horrible decisions that will ruin your life and the lives of those you serve, is an attitude of entitlement. Every example I have personally observed began with statements like these: “I’ve dedicated every waking minute to this ministry.” “Why shouldn’t I be blessed for the work I do.” “I’ve earned the right to be trusted. People shouldn’t micro-manage everything I do.” And this heart-stopper: “Don’t judge me”.
There is a lot at stake. If Jon the web developer and father fails morally, he will hurt his family and friends, possibly even his employer or the company he owns, and himself. If Jon the pastor or church leader fails morally or ethically, he will not only devastate that list, but also damage the meaning of the word “Christian” for everyone he ministers to, everyone they know, and (if he’s on TV or working at a megachurch) an untold multitude. It all begins with a sense of entitlement, and it can happen to any of us.
This Easter, as we consider the cross, let us also consider these words of Paul to the Philippians (from the Message):
Think of yourselves the way Christ Jesus thought of himself. He had equal status with God but didn’t think so much of himself that he had to cling to the advantages of that status no matter what. Not at all. When the time came, he set aside the privileges of deity and took on the status of a slave, became human! Having become human, he stayed human. It was an incredibly humbling process. He didn’t claim special privileges. Instead, he lived a selfless, obedient life and then died a selfless, obedient death—and the worst kind of death at that—a crucifixion.
Because of that obedience, God lifted him high and honored him far beyond anyone or anything, ever, so that all created beings in heaven and on earth—even those long ago dead and buried—will bow in worship before this Jesus Christ, and call out in praise that he is the Master of all, to the glorious honor of God the Father.
