Pastors typically want to build people and programs, not to break them, but it happens sometimes. Although ministry calamities occur for all kinds of reasons, sometimes there’s a fairly straightforward cause: a leader who is unable or unwilling to strengthen his or her emotional intelligence (EQ). Unlike the other leaders covered with powdery debris and buried under the rubble of a broken organization, the leader without EQ just keeps swinging away, oblivious to the damage he or she has caused. In fact, a deficit in emotional intelligence–an inability to hear loving critique, for example–can squash the ministries and relationships even of the most gifted, inspirational leaders.
Years ago, my husband and I were active in a church that had launched a remarkably effective community center. Although the church cherished the center as a core component of its ministry, the two organizations operated as separate legal entities with separate boards and staffs. The pastor of the church (Dan) served as chair of the center’s board, and the Executive Director was required to attend the church.
This close connection was important to both church and center. The community center offered homework help, a computer lab, parenting classes, and other types of care for the lower-income community in which the church was located. Church people volunteered, contributed financially, and tried proactively to make the neighbors feel welcome. On Wednesday nights, many of the after-school kids attended children’s ministries at the church, and their parents were invited to participate in adult fellowship.
Now, the time eventually came when the executive director who had started the center resigned. She privately shared that the environment had been crushingly stressful, as she often felt bullied by the pastor. The search for a new director began, and a beloved former employee of the church (Ruby) rose to the top of the list. After interviews and evaluation, she was hired for the role, and everyone was thrilled.
A few weeks later, Pastor Dan called me. The community center board had requested that I serve as a mediator between him and Ruby. When she accepted the role, she had not known about the requirement to attend the church, and although she was willing to make the change, her husband (Jeff) was not. She and the pastor had attempted to talk through this impasse but to no avail, and when the board had intervened, it became clear that outside help was needed. They both agreed to enlist me to work with them to find a solution that would alleviate the tension.
Needless to say, I did not want the mediator role and would have preferred to stay as far away from the conflict as I could. But it was important to the ministry that they work out this difficulty, so I reluctantly agreed. I had had my own experiences with Dan’s complicated blend of strengths and weaknesses, and yet I recognized the value of the church attendance rule.
I began by meeting with the two parties separately. Pastor Dan told me all about his position on the matter and how important he believed it was for the director to attend the church. I knew the history, the systems, and the people involved, and I agreed with him that it would be best to uphold that policy.
Then I met with Ruby and Jeff. Their reason for attending a different church was not what I had expected. They recounted to me stories from their past employment. During those years, they had felt so bullied and hurt by Dan, who was both pastor and boss, that although they were committed to serving the community and the church through the center, and although Ruby was willing to submit to Dan’s sometimes ungracious leadership once again, they did not believe that they could worship at the church freely and without internal conflict. They did not trust Dan as a shepherd of their spiritual lives. Tearfully, they recounted past failed efforts to talk through their hurts with him, and it seemed clear that the most significant injury had to do with conflict between the pastor and Jess. As they saw it, Ruby could only serve under Dan again if he were only her boss and not their pastor. Jeff, especially, felt that they needed another spiritual safe zone in which they could process the stress of working with Dan. Although their stories were new information to me, Dan’s intensity and staff turnover were not.
After a few meetings with these two parties separately and after time for them to pray and reflect, a possible solution emerged. Ruby and Jeff explained that God had challenged them to imagine that he could work in Dan’s heart, in theirs, and in their relationship with him. If Dan was willing to engage in healing conversations with them, to try to work through past hurts, and to hear how some of his behaviors affected them, then they would be willing to attend the church. They had committed to trust God to work. They had determined to guard against ungodly judgment toward Dan, believing that he could change. They had also resolved to be humble, to listen to any critique that Dan might have about past events, and to forgive. In a nutshell, they said, “If Dan is willing to join us in seeking the healing of our relationship, then we will be willing to attend the church.” I felt very hopeful after witnessing this beautiful spirit of tenderheartedness and optimistic grace.
Then I called Dan. I told him that I had some really good news. I explained that it seemed past hurts were still a very big deal and that both Ruby and Jeff wanted to work out their relationship with him. They were willing to attend the church and agreed with him about the importance of that continued close connection between the community center and the congregation. They only wanted to turn the page in their relationship with him into a new chapter of openness and healing. They wanted to talk.
The phone line went silent. Then Dan blurted, “Well–no, no, no– just forget it. They don’t have to attend the church. I give in. They can just have their way!”
I was stunned. “Dan, maybe I didn’t explain it well. They want a better relationship with you. They want to honor your desire for them to attend the church. They agree with it. All they want is to come around a table together and work out some hurts. This is very good news, Dan–the best outcome I could have imagined.”
“No,” he said firmly. “That’s not necessary. They can just go to church somewhere else. It’s not a big deal.”
“But, Dan, it is a big deal,” I insisted. “It matters to you. It matters to the church. You have told me that.”
“If it means that I have to sit across the table from somebody and hear that I have been wrong–well, I don’t need that,” he said.
I explained that they were open to listening as well as speaking, but Dan was refusing from every angle. At a certain point, I asked gently, “Dan, is it even possible that maybe you were harsh with them in the past? I mean, have you ever heard similar feedback from anyone else throughout your long career that you can be a little forceful or intimidating sometimes?”
He exploded.
Trying to tiptoe back from the other grenades about to go off, I said, “Dan, I’m really sorry. I know you’re feeling hurt and angry right now but–“
“I AM NOT HURT OR ANGRY! I don’t GET angry!” he bellowed, and he slammed down the phone in my ear.
Okay . . . ?
Ruby and Jeff did attend another church, bewildered by his sudden acquiescence to their original position. Soon thereafter, she took a new job. The community center did not search for a new director. The computer lab collected dust, and eventually the whole organization closed.
Dan was one of my most shaping mentors through his very complicated example–both very bad and very good. I loved the guy dearly. It’s probably hard to imagine after such a story (but it’s true) that he was a very inspirational leader in many ways. Almost every day, I think of something I learned from him or wish I could call him for advice on a ministry challenge.
How can someone so gifted in evangelism and apostleship also have had such huge gaps in emotional intelligence? It is a baffling mystery to me–a human impossibility. The trail behind him is full of people grateful but fearful of him–people who wanted to be part of the vision and planning that he offered but who also shrank back from him.
When he died a few years ago, we had been quite at odds over some church business matters. I am thankful that God allowed me to fly across the country to be at his hospital bedside in his last days so that we parted with the integrity of love–mentor and mentee–even though our disagreements and the impossibility of talking about them would likely never have been resolved.
I know that he loved me and the other people whom he had so meaningfully shaped, and I feel sad to consider the weight of relational regret he may have carried. Generous and tenderhearted, he had but one liability. EQ would have strengthened his practical conflict management skills and his courage to use them. Even more, it would have stretched his imagination to include himself in the interpersonal abundance and freedom that he desired for others.
What do you do to manage your own emotions and the emotion-laden situations that face you in your ministry role? What aspects of emotional intelligence do you think are most important for pastoral ministry?
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