church stuff

kings.

Posted on Apr 2, 2012 in church stuff, jesus is cool, leadership | 16 comments

yesterday was palm sunday. i love the easter story; in fact, this week is my very favorite week of the entire year. like advent & the anticipation of Jesus’ birth, i love the upside-downness of it all. Jesus, the promised king, the messiah, all grown up, enters into jerusalem to a roar of “hosannas!” and the thrill of impending victory. people were excited, inspired, drawn, hopeful. they were ready for him to kick ass and take names, to topple the empire and restore justice.

he’ll make all that was wrong right.

but as the week progresses, things radically shifted. he had stirred the pot too strongly. he’d upset too many apple carts. he challenged the status quo far too deeply.

he started doing all kinds of un-king-like things.

he touched lepers.
he dined with sinners.
he called out religiosity on its hypocrisy.
he told everybody they needed to be last, not first.
he said that love trumped all.
that the way up toward God was to go down to the places of real life, real pain.
that God desired mercy, not sacrifice.

and then, next thing they knew he was washing feet, talking about dying, telling us we needed each other in all of this.

wait a second! this wasn’t the kind of king-like behavior we were hoping for.

things went bad to worse after the foot washing. he was arrested, tried, and sentenced to die. and then, instead of getting off the cross and saving the day that way he actually died.

right there in front of them.

he was sacrificed. he appeared powerless, defeated.

all that excitement for nothing.

some king he was!

sure, we know a few days later, the tides turned yet again and he wasn’t dead but alive. appearing to his friends. telling them some of the same crazy things he had been telling them before he died. the spirit of God, alive and well, at work in people’s lives ever since.

but the truth is that it’s always been a confusing story. one that makes us scratch our heads a little and wonder “why did God choose to do it this way when there were a lot of better, more clear, easier-to-understand, more really-king-like options?”

as i reflect on the beginning of holy week and our journey toward easter, i think so many of the same human dynamics are at play today. sociology is powerful. our demands for strong, powerful, charismatic, certain leaders is alive & well. just look around at big rocking churches. there aren’t a lot of people leading them who are washing other people’s feet, dining with lepers, and telling mind-boggling, confusing stories that has everyone shaking their head, going “huh?”

rather, what makes most of them strong is their certainty, their power, their charisma, their “king-like” qualities.

my theory is that even though we know Jesus is the real king, we are still desperately looking for one here that makes more sense than Jesus. pastors, leaders, podcasters, writers, speakers, someone to tell us what to do & think, what’s okay & what’s not okay, what the scripture says & doesn’t say, who’s in & who’s out.

we are drawn to power & charisma, not the beatitudes-infused kind Jesus embodied and preached, but a worldly power that keeps us underneath so we can feel more protected, comfortable, contained.

we are addicted to inspiration.

but the gospel was never supposed to be protected, comfortable, or contained. or inspiring in a sit-and-listen-and-feel-better-afterward kind of way.

what makes it the gospel is its wildness, rawness, unexpectedness, and challenge to us. that God shows up in the least likely places instead of the most. that he pierces the darkness with unexplainable light. that we should follow his weird & wild ways, not men’s self-serving ones. that in order to be born again (and again) we need to die yet again (and then over again).

when i was in el salvador this past week with my family i had a lot of time to think & write & read; one of the things i thought about a lot is how desperate we are for an earthly king. i am sometimes, too. i want someone to swoop in and tell me what to do and rescue me from my doubts & questions. i want someone to put me & God & the whole kit and kaboodle back in a box so my faith can somehow be more manageable.

but then the feeling always subsides & i realize i do have a king.

a humble one, who says that i’m blessed when i realize my spiritual poverty (not when i’ve got it all nailed down).

a gentle one, who whispers to me that he understands my pain & struggle because he was human, too.

a wild & crazy one, who keeps reminding me that his ways will always be counter-cultural & harder but also better.

a not-the-way-kings-usually-look king, who says he’s not here to boss me around and make all my troubles go away, but rather that he’d be present in the midst of them.

a counter-cultural king, who calls me to spiritual poverty, mourning, mercy, meekness, justice and love as the path to freedom.

my hope is that over time we’d learn to quit crowning earthly kings, giving our time and money and souls to them, thinking they will save the day.

rather, i hope we can pick up our crosses and follow the one who really can.

* * * * *

ps: i really love this post by sarah bessey that i think points to what we expect of ourselves, too, when it comes to this king-hero-strength-means-big-and-amazing issue: in which i have an evangelical hero complex.

replacing the “f” word with the “d” word (no, not those ones!)

Posted on Mar 20, 2012 in church stuff, dreams, equality, ex good christian women, healing, injustice, jesus is cool | 24 comments

* this post is part of the monthly synchroblog, different bloggers writing on the same topic. this month’s topic is around gender equality, an issue near and dear to my heart. check out the link list at the bottom of this post to read the other posts (i’ll add more as they come in).

* * * * *

“i have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made straight and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed and all flesh shall see it together.” – martin luther king, jr.

feminist is a dirty word in a lot of Christian circles. it has come to be associated with anger and reverse sexism and all kinds of other things that were never the idea. i personally don’t mind being called a Christian feminist because it goes with the territory; i am a passionate advocate for the liberation of women and am grateful for those who have gone before us and will go after us to pave the way for greater equality. at the same time, i’m not crazy about the word.

like the word “church” and “pastor” and a lot of other loaded words, i think we need to try to reclaim them or at least come up with some better ones that describe what we mean without such negative connotations. for me, i am not a feminist for the sake of women’s power.

rather, i am for dignity-restoring-in-all-the-places-where-it-has-been-lost.

when people are thought of as less-than, no matter what shape, size, color, gender, or experience, their dignity is stripped. period.

when 1/2 the population of the world is generally thought as less-than and inferior somehow, we’re in some pretty big trouble.

i don’t feel a strong call to promote the “f” word of “feminism”.

but i do feel a deep & burning passion to promote the “d” word–”dignity”- for all people.

we are all made in the image of God and have inherent worth because of it. many complementarians will agree, saying that men & women are “equal in value but different in role” but i believe they miss the point and underestimate how powerful the “under another” theology creates a propensity to oppress, silence, limit, and reduce.

it strips us of our dignity.

women are seen as less-than in most cultures. they were in Jesus’ time, too.

but he, God in the flesh, embodied something radically important–restoration of the dignity of not only women but anyone who was thought of as less-than.

still, the church of Jesus Christ, which should be the free-est, most radically inclusive, least-oppressive, safest space in town has tossed out a lot of what he modeled and went on to perpetuate inequality toward women in the same old ways. we’ve used a few scripture verses and an already-deeply-grooved-against-women-cultural-system to perpetuate oppression instead of follow Jesus’ example of restoring dignity & setting people free–like really free.

i do not want to see women empowered so that they can then power up on others & create the same kinds of inequality we already have, only in reverse. that would not be reflective of the kingdom of God, which is what God has called us to participate in creating.

rather, i want to see women set free to step into who they were created to be without man-made limitations that strip their dignity so that the reality of God can be reflected in all God’s children, here & now. when that original image of God is uncovered, unburied, fanned into flame, all kinds of beautiful things emerge.

men’s dignity will be restored, too.

the systems we have perpetuated haven’t only robbed women of their worth. they’ve robbed men of theirs, too. they’ve reduced them to stereotypical roles that they can’t live up to. they’ve put men in a place of wielding power that they didn’t even necessarily want. the systems have limited the possibilities of finding equal, strong partners.

dignity restoration is contagious.

over time, the divides that usually separate us can be crossed.

over time, families, neighborhoods, cities, organizations, nations will be changed.

over time, beside each other together as equals, we can more freely reflect the image of God in every relationship and system we are in.

to me, there’s nothing more beautiful than dignity-restored.

yeah, i don’t think we need more Feminists.

i think we need more Dignity-restorers.

* * * * *

10 ways churches jack people up

Posted on Mar 16, 2012 in church stuff, healing, injustice | 45 comments

i do not think church systems wake up in the morning and think “i’m going to hurt a lot of people today.” intentions are often good. stirrings from God seem clear. visions and strategies make total sense. the desire to make a difference “for the kingdom” is strong.

for all kinds of reasons, though, many church systems are really unhealthy. often our basic insecurity as christians is a flaw that crops up all over the place in the way we interact with the world. our blindedness to our own dysfunctions and the fear of counseling & recovery (for ourselves & within the church) makes us even more unsafe. sprinkle in power and a structure that has thrived with one charismatic leader on top, and it’s a recipe for disaster.

churches hurt people when they:

1. abuse power

2. put programs over people

3. perpetuate inequality

4. demand certainty

5. expect conformity

6. dismiss pain

7. ignore giftedness

8. pull the God/here’s-what-the-Bible says trump card

9. create scapegoats

10. shame, and then shame some more

i’m sure there are many more. these are just a few off the top of my head. what would you add?

i often wonder what Jesus would think of today’s contemporary church. what we’ve created seems so similar to what he was railing against during his time on earth. his call to a life centered on the beatitudes has been hijacked by many systems built on his name, and something far different has been promoted & modeled. there’s a lot of carnage out here because of it. beautiful, sincere, dear people who really believed in “church” and ended up on the outs for all kinds of reasons.

some days it just makes me cry.

i have a deep passion for those that we call “the walking wounded”–followers of Jesus hurt by the systems they have given their life, heart, time, passions to in all kinds of ways. i know if i hadn’t had a safe place to process after my painful church experience a chunk of years ago, i am not sure where my faith would have ended up. we crawled our way to healing together.

i don’t think the church is aware of how much hurt it has inflicted. the wheels keep spinning. self-preservation continues to be top priority. very little confession & change appears to be happening. and those who are still “in” get mad at the people who are “out” and think they should just get over it, quit being so angry & hurt, and start playing again.

this ignoring of the reality of wounding is even more painful for those already hurt.

almost every day i hear new stories of people who have lost what they most held dear and now don’t know where to turn. our brothers & sisters are on the side of the road, bleeding, bruised, and with no ability to find safe shelter since the one place they should be able to find comfort & spiritual care is the very place that jacked them up in the first place.

i wish there were safer spaces for healing from church woundedness, other than expensive therapy and blogs and people-left-to-figure-it-out-all-on-their-own. but the truth is there aren’t a bunch of them. i think these wounds scare people. i understand why. it’s tricky stuff because it’s often the deepest pain–damage to our souls.

but we’re trying to be brave and play our small part in creating one, a safe pocket of love and healing for those who have been hurt by church.

a place to tell stories & garner strength & find hope.

we hosted a live event in denver in october & just wrapped up our first online class–walking wounded: hope for those hurt by the church. it was really healing for those who participated, so we decided to offer it again, starting april 9th (registration details here). online isn’t our first choice; we wish we could all be together in the same room, but this is the next best thing. it’s our little contribution to the underground railroad.

meanwhile, my deepest desire is to not need a place for wounds to be healed because we’d begin to shift what’s creating the wounding in the first place.

that people who plant new trees would take a good, hard look at these 10 things and do everything possible to not re-create them.

that current systems would repent & change & embody a better way.

that the beatitudes would be infused in our hearts & our practices and we’d find ways to be people who heal & restore instead of jack up & hurt.

it’s so possible, it’s just a lot harder to do.

God, help us participate in healing & change in the church; we’re tired of seeing so many people hurt.

small is plenty

Posted on Mar 14, 2012 in church stuff, dreams, incarnational | 16 comments

* i wrote a version of this in 2010 but it’s been on my mind a lot lately, especially in so many conversations with others about dreams for new communities-ministries-passions-ideas. it’s easy to measure our dreams by other people’s measures and forget that small is plenty.

* * * * *

“get ready, God is preparing you for something really, really small” – shane claiborne

i have always tended to do everything big in my life. i never really set out to have 5 kids, but i am the one who had 12 bridesmaids and over 400 people at our wedding & keeps the post office in business with how many christmas cards we send every year. it’s just…me (and that my #1 strength on the strengthsfinder is “includer”, ha ha).

but i’m learning something really precious and beautiful in this season–just how powerful “small” really is.

i first earned my chops in big-church world, stepping into leadership a big chunk of years ago and then ramping it up a few years later on the pastoral staff at a mega-church. the contrast between where i was and where i am now is actually quite comical and once in a while at some our refuge gatherings i find myself chuckling at the difference between the two. i went from as professional & amazing & full-of-wow-and-tons-of-people as you can get to simple-pared-down-unplugged-and-small. it’s apples & oranges.

and while i’m not saying that “big is bad” i think i’m more convinced than ever that “small is plenty.”

here’s why:

transformational, redemptive relationships require a lot of time and energy. learning Jesus’ ways of love is complicated. most people–no matter how put together they may look on the outside–struggle with feeling loved by God & people & passing on love to God and people. shifting those deep places in hearts is not something that comes in a snap. it takes a long time to build trust, intimacy & connection. it takes intention and fighting against the path of least resistance which will always tend toward “i’m too busy” or “i really don’t need people in my life, i’ve got it covered on my own.” after 6 wild years of life in the refuge community, i see up-close-and-personal just how much time and energy it takes to nurture transformation. the tangled web of life together is impossible to navigate in a sea of hundreds of nameless faces.

real life is unpredictable and hard; the needs are great. $*!&!( happens. marriages begin to crumble, jobs get lost, people get sick, family members die, relationships break up, kids get in trouble, people get inspired to adopt children from foster care & overseas, depression kicks in, the pain gets great enough to enter recovery. real life is unpredictable and if i look around most of the relationships i am in–both in and outside of the refuge community–there’s a lot of real life going on that is complicated and messy. sure, it’s easy to just stand by and watch when there’s no real connection between people, but in a small community dedicated to life together, in different ways we all share in the pain and struggle together. and while it is a beautiful gift, it is also impossible to share these kinds of burdens on too big of a scale. when it comes to the needs of real life, small is plenty.

everyone needs a space to use their gifts & passions & voice. this is something i’m most passionate about because the body of Christ is supposed to be a place where each and every person who is a part is contributing in some way, shape or form–bringing their gifts & passions & voice to the community. in big settings, there’s only so much “room” so the talented & louder voices are the ones who usually get heard. in our practicing community, we go out of our way to hear from as many different people as possible in as many different ways as possible. and even then, it’s tricky to do.

growth doesn’t mean numbers. almost all church-planting and success-in-life models are focused on numerics & dollars–butts in seats & bucks in the offering plate or some combination of that. the growth that i see really has nothing to do with the-number-of-people-who-come-to-our-gatherings but rather seeing people become more loving, caring, compassionate, generous, and kind in little & big ways. of seeing people find hope when there wasn’t any. of seeing people really “become more like Christ” even if none of those words were ever used. yeah, there’s a big difference between building churches & cultivating communities.

never underestimate how much impact “small” can really have. i feel so blessed to see this in some little ministries, missional communities, and individuals-who-are-dedicated-to-the-poor-and-marginalized-in-all-kinds-of-crazy-innovative-ways. small pockets of love matter. justice & mercy & hope ripple out from small acts of kindness & love. one life can change one other life. and that one life matters. if we are always thinking we’re not big enough, strong enough, cool enough, sustainable enough, we will miss out on amazing people & opportunities to love & live right in front of us.

learning how to embrace small as plenty means becoming comfortable in our own skin, accepting ourselves how we truly are individually & corporately.

it means bending our ear and heart toward the ways of the kingdom of God–where the ways of the world are turned upside down, the last shall be first and the first shall be last, where learning the ways of love one relationship at a time supersedes everything else.

more than ever, i am discovering that small is plenty.

the underground railroad

Posted on Mar 5, 2012 in church stuff, equality, healing, incarnational, injustice | 23 comments

“if i could have convinced more slaves they were slaves, i could have freed thousands more”

- harriet tubman

this past weekend i was in portland for a women’s gathering called convergence. it is not a typical conference; there are no speakers, no people getting paid, no flash. just a sacred safe space for a bunch of women leaders to share & learn & soak & be challenged & encourage & grieve & grow. i went to see dear & inspiring friends and get a little soul care; it was also an honor to get to process some of the material from down we go with women interested in cultivating intentional little pockets of love & freedom and planting new trees.

one thing that i am always struck with in these moments is just how many incredible women there are whose gifts haven’t been fully valued. how many have been slaves to systems that mistreated them. and how even though they have been used and mistreated and undervalued in all kinds of ways, they still have hope & passion & dreams for the kingdom and are finding ways to live it out despite the obstacles. seriously, it’s amazing.

i know so many women–and men, too–who are being set free.

free from the bondage of religion.
free from the shackles of the system.
free from the oppression of abusive power structures.
free from being called nasty names & having our dignity stripped.
free from limitations on our faith.
free from a squelching of our gifts.

and freedom is costly.

when we choose the path of leaving systems & structures that continue to keep us in bondage, we choose a lonelier, scarier road.

but nothing tastes better than freedom.

the same day i arrived in portland, my wise & amazing friend phyllis mathis and i finished our first walking wounded online class: hope for those hurt by the church. it was so beautiful, so healing, so inspiring.

i was also reminded, yet again, how tough it is to find our way to freedom without a little help along the way.

my friend mar shared that walking wounded was a little like the underground railroad, a stopping spot on the way to freedom for the slaves. a hidden pocket of love & hope & refuge on the journey toward freedom. manned by others who believed in freedom, the underground railroad was made up of shelters & places of protection, places to be reminded that freedom was possible, places to be nourished, places that pointed others toward hope.

her words took my breath away.

i do not for a minute want to minimize the kind of oppression & human slavery african americans and so many other people experienced or are experiencing today. i respect that as westerners escaping from the grip of the institutional church, our bondage is quite a different kind.

at the same time, the imagery works for so many of our journeys.

the slaves wouldn’t have made it to freedom without the underground railroad.

and i wouldn’t have made it to freedom without other people who first told me i was a slave (i didn’t even know it) and then carried me along this path, gently reminding me that there was, indeed, something better ahead.

6 years ago i didn’t know i was a slave.

i was happy settling for crumbs because i thought that was all i deserved.
i thought the weird power dynamics i was experiencing as part of a church staff were normal.
i thought i should just be thankful i was “allowed” to do anything and knew it could be a lot worse.
i was stuck working for a system that didn’t really want me, just what i had to bring to make their system more successful.

that harriet tubman quote has gotten under my skin:

“if i could have convinced more slaves they were slaves, i could have freed thousands more”

so many men & women don’t know they’re slaves. don’t know they’re being bullied. controlled. used. limited. unvalued. stripped of dignity.

i certainly didn’t. but as i started walking this direction, i started meeting others who had been set free, too. they told their stories. they fed me. they gave me shelter. they pointed me on my way and told me to keep going, to not give up this journey.

years ago i watched a documentary on human slavery and remember clearly the story of an entire village who were slaves for generations upon generations in a free country. they had no idea they were slaves until someone bought one of their people’s freedom. then, one by one, the freed slaves helped the others be set free, too.

i believe in every fiber of my being that Jesus came to set people free, like really free. free-er than we can ever even imagine although i hope we can experience more and more of it this side of heaven.

and my freedom isn’t only about my freedom.
my freedom is about our freedom.
i’m not really free until my brothers & sisters are.

your freedom isn’t only about your freedom, it’s about our freedom.
and we’re not really free until our brothers & sisters are.

God, help us recognize our slavery.
and that there’s a true & beautiful & bumpy path to freedom.
for those of us already on the road there, may we play our part in offering shelter, hope, love, support, food, water, and courage to those walking this direction, too.

out of the mouths of co-pastors, final post

Posted on Mar 2, 2012 in church stuff, leadership | 2 comments

this is the final post in this series on co-pastoring, some thoughts from some friends who are doing the work in their own contexts. to me, co-pastoring reflects different parts working together the way it’s supposed to be–one’s weakness is another’s strength. it can come in all different shapes & forms, but the most important distinctive is leaders alongside each other as equals without one person at the top.

i know this is a very specialized conversation and not for everyone, but i hope that some people open up to its possibility over time as part of planting new trees. seeds do matter.

here are final thoughts from some of my co-pastor friends. read part one if you haven’t already.

* * * * *

what are you learning about yourself through co-pastoring?

To over communicate, to withhold judgment, the “whole’s” best interest is the priority. – Angie

I have learned that I still have many rough edges and I am not as smart as I thought I was. I have learned that anything worth doing is costly on a very personal level and that telling the truth of my life as well as that of the other is a life long exploration that requires vulnerability and humble commitment. I really would not want to pastor any other way. – Deborah

I’m learning that I can be trusted with responsibility. I’m realizing that my way isn’t always the best way, and even if it is, it’s okay to do something else. - Donna

I’ve only done it this way, so whatever I am learning is the way you do it. Personally I think what I have learned is regular meetings are vital so that everyone can keep abreast of everything. Also we are learning to rely on each other so that we can naturally take days off. – Geoff

I am learning that I am a person who has always sought after roles where I am in authority. When I was a child I wanted to be a policemen because I thought they were respected. As I grew older and became a Christian I wanted to be a Pastor. By giving up that authority role, I realize how much I craved it and how addicted I was to power. I am learning that in my weakness there is more strength than I could ever muster on my own. – John

Community is good for me – and I can let go of my business-wisdom and stop trying to apply it to my church role. – Martin

what are you learning about christian community through co-pastoring?

Community can be and is much more than people ever give it credit for. There are no models out there like our model, so there is no one to get help from. We are mostly alone in this, in the ideas and the practice of it, and sometimes that is hard. – Angie

Inside of the smaller community, the co-pastor model gives us a visible symbol of cooperation, inclusion and love. It also tells others that involvement is welcomed. They rise to the occasion and are eager to participate. In the greater Christian community, well that’s a different story. Most are uncomfortable with the co-equal co-pastoring model. One local mega church called us the three-headed monster. They trust the traditional model. – Deborah

I’m learning that truly being a “Christian community” is a beautiful thing. We have an opportunity as co-pastors to bring our unique styles to the table and help others discover and lean into their own unique style in an effort to make our greater community a better place. I’m finding that to be a pretty cool. – Donna

With my own studies, I am learning the value that this method has on communicating a revolutionary power structure – Geoff

I am learning that people in Christian community seem to want that authoritative leader to tell them what to do and how to do it. When people are subjected to the kind of grace found within shared leadership, they are taken aback by it. They sometimes cannot grasp it. They ask questions like “Who is in charge here?” After a while though they get it and they grow to appreciate the submission of their leaders to each other and the community at large. – John

Full responsibility without full power is a very counter-cultural thing. When someone tries to make me take responsibility for something I don’t have control over at my day-job, I fight hard to avoid letting that happen. But in the church it seems right. In the same way that community means taking responsibility for one another’s welfare, being a co-pastor makes the running of the church something that I am responsible for without giving me the ability to make the church in my image. I like that. It reminds me of a conversation my wife and I had in the run-up to our wedding. We were advised by someone, “Don’t have a joint bank account, you’ll feel like the money doesn’t belong to either of you!” We didn’t say anything at the time, but we both thought, “That sounds exactly as it should be!” We are currently thinking about ways to break down the barriers even further - this time between co-pastor and ‘member’ – to drive things to an even more communal structure. We just have to work out how to express what we mean in words. It’s easy to think, but harder to express. – Martin

what do you say to critics who claim “you have to have one person who makes the final decision” or ” you have to have one head”?

First I give them the middle finger, ha ha! Once, I said to one of my professors we had a flat leadership style and was told it didn’t work. Well, then I’m not sure what we have been doing successfully for 13 years. I usually put my head down and do what I was ordained to do…serve my community. - Angie

What is their theology around the Trinity? If they believe that there is submission within the Trinity, I probably will not get much of a hearing. However, if they believe in co-equality of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, we might have something to discuss. I would cite Jesus at the Garden of Gethsemane–“I wish that you would allow this cup to pass from me, but nevertheless, not my will but yours be done.” Right here Jesus, the sole leader of the movement, was agreeing with God that the leadership reigns of the church should pass into the hands of a band of social renegades even though they were not ready. They really didn’t get it until Pentecost. Jesus agreed with God that the time for his voice was done and the time for their voices was at hand. In the Acts 15 we see the counsel of Jerusalem as the ruling body of the church… no single leader! (I wrote about this in my dissertation). The idea is that the Holy Spirit was now the leader of the church… as pastors we are merely facilitators of the work of God. Co-pastoring keeps leadership cognizant of this fact. - Deborah

The Bridge has thrived for over 13 years now without that one person, so it is doable. In some ways it’s the easy way out of having one person as the “head.” By having co-pastors, we get to walk through all sides of an issue and usually one of us will spot something that the others missed. We then have to come up with that “final decision” and we don’t act unless we are in agreement, which I think makes it much harder than if one person were doing it. So go ahead, take the easy way, and let someone control your community. I just want to know who keeps that person accountable for keeping the communities best interest as their top priority? - Donna

I smile and tell them okay. If they aren’t interested then oh well. – Geoff

Why? What are you afraid of? Is it that without some person in control we cannot trust that God will lead? Is it that for some reason in a community of talented and inspired people only one has the right or responsibility to make decisions? Is it that throughout history God has only spoken through one person? - John

In practice, we find that whoever has the most time, or the biggest stake, or the strongest opinion will make a final decision (although that is not always the same person for different circumstances). But I think the quieter voice, the minority opinion, the outside perspective will always be heard and considered. There needs to be real community and mutual respect and love between the co-pastors, though, otherwise it would be all too easy for power struggles to upset the balance. - Martin

if someone was considering co-pastoring their faith community–whatever shape or form that might take–what is one word of advice you’d give them?

Put your money where your mouth is! Be willing to make mistakes and even fail. Say sorry for the mistakes you make. If you don’t, then you will fail. Or worse, do what has always been done, like create more church causalities because you are to afraid to experiment and try new ways of doing things. - Angie

Run! Said with a smile on my face, but run towards it, not away. If you have the opportunity to practice what I’ve been learning the old Scottish clans called being a “leader of leaders,” take it on, try it out, and trust that your community will be stronger for it. Expect a learning curve, as our culture is ingrained with the concept of a “head” pastor to do all things, be comfortable in your own skin, know who you are and how you are wired, and learn the same of your co-pastors. - Donna

Find someone you are committed to and will continue to respect. And when you don’t want to either be committed or continue to respect the other, do it anyway until God tells you to go to Africa. - Geoff

Get your Co-Pastors to buy into it 100%, then have them figure out how you are to do it (roll it out), and then submit yourself to the process 100%. Let go, and seriously, let God. - John

If you don’t have a relationship where the current decision-maker can be challenged, a change will probably be difficult. If that relationship is there it may be a structure that works to better represent what is happening and the way everyone wants it to work. - Martin

Be sure that you are serving with people that you really love and believe in. That love and commitment will be tested to the nth degree. Dream big! – Deborah

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thanks, my friends. great thoughts, and i hope that any of you reading who are either co-pastoring now or considering it in some way, shape or form, find some strength & encouragement from these thoughts.

what questions or thoughts do you have about shared leadership?