A special elders’ meeting was called. This time, I, as the senior pastor, was the subject of concern.
Our lay elders had detected flashes of unhealthy, fleshly pride in me. They wanted to nip these things in the bud—things like secretly and unilaterally making ministry decisions I knew our other two staff pastors would object to or avoiding certain difficult pastoral calls because I knew they would cause offense (yes, I wanted to be liked).
There was actually quite a laundry list of offenses. After nine years of ministry in that church, this was the first time I experienced anything close to such a grilling.
As my offenses were enumerated, I felt my blood pressure skyrocket. I had a comeback for each perceived offense. My reflex was absolute defensiveness.
But then I looked into the faces of these four or five men. I knew them. I knew their track records of humble, faithful, loving service in our church. They were the kind of men who, if they slipped in displaying the fruits of the Spirit, they wouldn’t slip for long and would humbly repent. They cared so deeply about their own walks with the Lord and the health of our
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