This is a guest post by Brian Sanders. He leads an incredible church network in Tampa Bay called Underground. He is one of the most inspiring leaders I know. I love listening to him teach and I love the way he thinks about leadership, church planting, and missional communities. He is an apostolic leader through and through and you see this no better than in the way he is the chief architect for his network of churches. But he also comes hard with timely prophetic words. One of which was his last post you can find here.
Sometimes, what appeals to us in the word and world of the apostle is the sense of grandeur and even importance it conjures. I think this is a deep misunderstanding of the calling of an apostle. We should not aspire to engage in apostolic ministry or apostolic calling because it somehow seems BIGGER than merely being a pastor. We do not rail against the shepherd-teacher model of church because it is too small. Its smallness is probably one of the things that is most noble about that kind of church and ministry. We challenge it because it is out of balance, not because it is small. I keep meeting people who are nominally claiming an apostolic rubric for their ambition, simply to mask their delusions of grandeur. No one wants to plant a church anymore, they want to plant a movement. In one sense this is the epitome of the apostolic urge, and it can be very holy – but only if it is accompanied with an equally profound personal humility. The role of apostle should actually be the most modest of all the roles because nothing that we do or dream is FOR us or ABOUT us.
Will We Go Backwards?
Years ago I sat on a church leadership team that was led by a pretty humble and hungry older man. All of our people were really impressed with him and although I was busy in campus ministry I agreed to join the teaching team for the church and be involved with the life and decision-making of the staff. Sometime later that leader sensed a call to leave for another church in another state. We blessed him on his way, but it left a big hole in the team. The church leadership scrambled to fill the spot and as is the often the case in these situations wrestled with whether to hire someone from the outside or to promote from within. They chose a gifted, creative, and wonderful guy who was already a part of the team. I really enjoyed this guy but knew he did not have the gifts, capacity, or calling to lead. Still, what could I do? I supported this leader for months, watching him flounder in a role that required skills he did not have and pushed him into complexity he could not understand.
At first we grieved for him, trying to support him as people left in protest, or as important responsibilities were neglected. Finally, after weeks of wrestling with what to do, I took a chance and tried to confront him. I really liked this man. I believed in his part to play in the kingdom, but everyone could tell this was not it; so I pleaded with him. I asked him if he was feeling overwhelmed by the job. He said yes. I asked if he often felt confused and unsure about what to do. He said yes. I asked if he was happier and had a better relationship with God in his previous role. He said yes. I asked him if he was more committed to the kingdom and to Jesus than to his own advancement or his own position. He said yes. And then I asked him to step down. I laid out a plan that I thought the church would support, for him to keep working and leading, but in a different capacity.
Since I had nothing to gain or lose by giving him this advice, I argued that I was trying to serve him and the whole body. In tears, he agreed that it was the right thing to do. Sadly, his conviction was short lived. The next day he changed his mind. Redoubling his efforts to grow the church, I could not stay to watch. I had taken a stand and tried to stand by it. Within six months my friend was fired and left the ministry. Since then he has lost his family and is still not fully recovered.
What is it inside us that will not let go? Why are we so unwilling to accept a demotion as the intelligent, strategic, and gracious work of God? Especially if it will somehow build or nourish the kingdom we profess to serve. I will never know my friend’s true motivation and I don’t tell that story to castigate him specifically, but his story makes me wonder why we do ministry in the first place. What moves us to it? That story has made me ask the question, would I go backwards? If I knew it was best for the kingdom, would I give up influence or authority for the sake of serving Jesus and the people he loves? I have wrestled a yes from my own soul; even demanded it from myself in order to move forward.
What do we really want? Do we really want what we pray for; for his kingdom to come, for his name to be known, and for the nations to find joy in him? if we do, if we are true apostles, we would do any job and serve from any position in order to see that dream come true.
I think that movement making must be an egoless enterprise. To try our hand at playing God (keeping ourselves at the center or top of what we build) can only lead to our own demise. Either by achieving a compromised success that divides our soul, or by failing so miserably that we walk away never to return.
Apostle = Servant
I am more convinced than ever that the call of the apostle is the call of the servant. Our leadership is always about empowering and lifting someone else. Ostensibly, the person in front of us, and ultimately the person who called and sent us. we lead, but in the kingdom that means we serve. It means that the lowest seat is always ours. If we could combine that with an ambition for all to know, perhaps we would see a new kind growth and transformation in the work we do and the people we lead.
This is an excerpt from Brian’s new book Different.
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