Part 2: The Broken and Beautiful Church | A Call To Shepherds
(This article is part 2 of a series. Click here to read part one: “Something’s Not Right.”)
When I first entered vocational ministry, my soon-to-be boss cited Keanu Reeves’ movie The Matrix, in which the lead character, Neo, was given a choice. He could take a red pill, which would allow him to see behind the illusion created by the Matrix, or a blue pill, which would allow him to remain ignorant and in the illusion. My boss said this was my red pill, blue pill moment. I could take the red pill (accept the job) and see behind the curtain, or I could take the blue pill (decline the job) and go on in my current reality. I chose the red pill.
That was 15 years ago. I was naive, full of youthful zeal, idealistic, and immature. But I loved Jesus. I loved his church. And I wanted to be a part of what he was doing. A lot has changed since then. I am no longer naive. I pray I am more mature. My zeal has tempered with age, and my idealistic illusions have yielded to the painful realities of a world still marked by sin. Yet my love for Jesus and his church remains, and I still want to be a part of what he is doing in the world and his church.
Being in pastoral ministry is hard. We are vulnerable, and we get hurt too. I know what it feels like to be hurt by members of the body of Christ. My character has been attacked. I have diligently labored over projects intended to care for God’s people, only to be met with harsh, unconstructive criticism. I have been vilified and accused of abandoning the Scriptures and taking up political agendas. I have even watched people walk to the other side of the building to avoid me.
Ministry is not for the faint of heart. It is easy to become self-protective, bitter, or detached. It can be tempting to lash out or defend ourselves. Those who’ve been in ministry for any length of time may also find it easy to become numb or be tempted to deflect legitimate concerns and blame the sheep instead.
My experience in ministry has given me insight into the church's profound beauty and inevitable brokenness. It has fueled my passion to serve those who care for the church and those under her care. Ultimately, I long to see the church healed and holy—an outpost of God’s beauty and goodness.
From the beginning, God intended to establish a people distinct and marked by their likeness to their Creator—righteous, just, compassionate, and holy.
God chose Israel, nurtured her, and established her as a mighty nation (Deuteronomy 7). She was to be an example of his divine faithfulness and power to surrounding nations (Exodus 19:5-6).
Israel started as God’s chosen people, a kingdom of priests. But she forgot her origins. She worshiped foreign gods and rejected his divine leadership (Judges 2:11-13, 1 Samuel 8:4-9). She believed her flourishing came from her talented leaders, resources, or strategic alliances, not divine favor.
She grew proud and enamored with herself (Ezekiel 16). She failed to care for the vulnerable and built her kingdom on the backs of her people, all while offering sacrifices to the Lord and holding holy festivals in his honor (Isaiah 1:13-17).
And so the Lord disciplined her, revealing her failings and bringing barrenness and exile (Jeremiah 5:14-19). He destroyed her high places and left her desolate (Ezekiel 6:6-7). But he did not turn his back on her. The Lord loved Israel and was deeply committed to her, and he promised to one day preserve and restore her because she was still his plan for the world (Jeremiah 31).
Like Israel, God established the church. He set her apart and called her to be a beacon of hope to the world around her. But the church, like Israel, is also prone to wander from the path God set before her.
Martyn Lloyd-Jones captured this tragic tendency when he warned,
“The church is always to be under the Word; she must be; we must keep her there. You must not assume that because the church started correctly, she will continue so. She did not do so in the New Testament times; she has not done so since. Without being constantly reformed by the Word, the church becomes something very different”(emphasis mine).¹
Many church leaders start with good desires: to share the Gospel, to study the Scriptures, to grow in spiritual maturity, and to serve those in their care. But just because a church started well doesn’t mean it will finish well. It’s far too easy to forget our origins and pattern ourselves after the world around us—worshiping the idols of power, influence, or notoriety. We are vulnerable to pride and the allure of success. When these things continue unchecked, we may find we begin to favor the strong over the weak and vulnerable, elevate and build churches as kingdoms rather than taking the posture of servants, and neglect or mistreat those God has entrusted to us.
When Israel’s leaders strayed, God sent many prophets to call them to repentance.
Isaiah reminded Israel that the Lord was not interested in their burnt offerings, sacrifices, feasts, many prayers, and displays of worship; he wanted them to stop doing evil, to learn to do good, and to correct oppression (Isaiah 1:11-17).
Jeremiah warned the prophets and priests to stop treating the mortal wounds of God’s people with superficial treatments and to pursue true peace (Jeremiah 6:13-14).
Micah reminded them that the Lord desired them to act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly (Micah 6:6-8).
And Ezekiel carried the Lord’s stern message to Israel’s shepherds for their harsh treatment of God’s beloved sheep (Ezekiel 34).
Some five hundred years later, Jesus echoed a similar message to the religious leaders of his day, calling out their hypocrisy:
“The teachers of religious law and the Pharisees are the official interpreters of the law of Moses. So practice and obey whatever they tell you, but don’t follow their example. For they don’t practice what they teach. They crush people with unbearable religious demands and never lift a finger to ease the burden” (Matthew 23:22-24, NLT).
They taught God’s word accurately. They excelled in the appearance of righteousness, but they lacked its substance.
To drive his point further, Jesus warns the religious leaders of the sorrow that awaits them, calling out their deeds with great specificity:
Those who crush people under impossible religious demands but never lift a finger to ease the burden (Matthew 23:4).
Those who love to be seen, honored, and praised, basking in the attention they receive as ‘Teacher’ or ‘Pastor’ (Matthew 23:5-7).
Those who, as gatekeepers of God's kingdom, use their authority to deny others access to God’s grace, kindness, mercy, compassion, and forgiveness (Matthew 23:13-14).
Those who carefully follow the letter of the law but miss the heart behind it (Matthew 23:23-24).
Those who clean up the outside but inside are greedy and self-indulgent (Matthew 23:25).
Those who look alive—displaying spiritual fruit on the outside—but on the inside are dead and decaying (Matthew 23:27).
Those who exalt themselves while eagerly humbling others (Matthew 23:8-12).
Those who revere and teach the prophets of old, but shut their ears and hearts to the messengers God sends them today (Matthew 23:29-34).
Both the Old Testament prophets and Jesus’ words speak directly to us today as ministers. They call us to examine our own hearts and practices with the same scrutiny God applied to the shepherds of Israel.
When I consider these passages personally, they cause me significant pause. Could we, as church leaders, be undergoing our own time of discipline? Has God been sending us messengers? Is there a commonality to their message? As shepherds, this is our time to hear and heed, observe what is happening around and among us, and examine ourselves with humility, fear, and trembling.
This is true for all of us, whether in a formal ministry role or not. As followers of Jesus, we are all priests and ambassadors of God’s kingdom:
“Ones chosen by God, chosen for the high calling of priestly work, chosen to be a holy people, God’s instruments to do his work and speak out for him, to tell others of the night-and-day difference he made for you—from nothing to something, from rejected to accepted” (1 Peter 2:9, The Message)
We have all been given kingdom work to do, which means our spiritual health is paramount. Then, perhaps, we can spread more of the message and less of the mess.
As I have reflected on my own journey as a shepherd and observed modern church culture, a few things stand out as vital in our roles.
1. Pursue Personal Healing
I spent many years as a shepherd, leading from the unhealed places in me, swinging between insecurity and inadequacy on one side and authoritarian self-righteousness and dogmatic certainty on the other. I was disconnected from my heart and unaware of how my story informed my leadership. I was quick to call out sin but slow to proclaim love. I was dogmatic about serving Christ but weak on the importance of resting in Christ.
I've heard therapist and author Jay Stringer say many times that until you heal what hurt you, you will bleed all over those who didn't cut you. And as a sheep, I've both witnessed and experienced the fallout of an unhealed shepherd's leadership. When things like fear, shame, and pain aren't regularly addressed in a ministry leader's life, we may not only bleed all over the sheep, we may slaughter them.
We far too often lead from unhealed places in ourselves. We must be honest about our own pain, brokenness, and needs so we can lead more wholeheartedly—not from fears of failure, inadequacy, rejection, or vulnerability but from wholeness, resilience, and love. We must diligently pursue and invest in our emotional, mental, and spiritual health.
By the time I was in a ministry leadership position, I had done years of internal work to process my story and forgive those who had hurt me. I thought there was nothing more to do. By comparison, I had grown and healed significantly from where I began. However, during some ministry training, I began to see how disconnected I was from my heart. I had settled for “good enough healing” and well-developed, deeply rooted coping mechanisms. These survival strategies may have served their purpose when I was younger, but they had become an impediment not only to my healing but also to my ability to care for those in my ministry more wholeheartedly.
You may have spent significant time and energy processing your story, but that does not mean the work is done. Healing is a lifelong process. There is always more to be revealed and more to be healed. Counseling, confessional communities, mature mentors, or spiritual directors can help us more truthfully tell our stories and identify core wounds that often fester undetected.
2. Address Your Idolatry
We all have idols, functional gods we run to for a sense of safety or security. The older I get, the more I believe our idols grow out of the unhealed wounds in our lives. They are crutches that prop us up and fig leaves that cover us up—ways we attempt to resolve things like fear, pain, scarcity, or shame on our own terms.
At some point in my childhood, my wounds developed into the shame-riddled lie that I was not enough—good enough, smart enough, capable enough, intelligent enough, skinny enough. Just not enough. That deep feeling of inadequacy led to fears of rejection and isolation. Ultimately, I longed for a place of belonging where I could be fully known and loved. But that is risky because it requires me to be vulnerable. So, what I settled for was competency. I made it my god, and I ran to it for assurance. In doing so, I became its slave, working tirelessly to prove myself worthy of love, belonging, opportunity, and respect. When things like failure or someone more gifted than me threatened to deal a mortal blow to my idol of competency, fear of rejection set in and drove me ever harder—until one day in 2015 when I stood dangerously near the precipice of total burnout.
Unaddressed wounds and their attendant idols will eventually lead to implosion through things like depression, anxiety, and burnout, or they will lead to explosion through moral failures like sexual sin or abuse of power. And whether we implode or explode, the fallout will impact those in our care.
Even good things can become god things. Our desires to love and serve Jesus intertwine with our desires to be loved and belong, shaping our ministries and how we engage those whom God has entrusted us.
Pursuing our emotional, mental, and spiritual healing can reveal our idols and give us an opportunity to dismantle them and rebuild our foundation on something more true.
3. Admit and Repent of Your Sins
This seems like a no-brainer. How often do we, as shepherds, call people to confession and repentance?! And yet, when your personal holiness is attached to your financial security, it gets a little more complicated. In his book Dangerous Calling, Paul Tripp said, “There is no one we swindle more than we swindle ourselves. There is no one we run to defend more than we do ourselves.” We are blind to our own blindness, as Tripp says. It was true for the Old Testament shepherds. It was true for the religious leaders of Jesus’ day. And it is true of us, too.
To protect ourselves against this blindness, we must empower people to speak the truth in our lives. But this won’t be easy. When we are in leadership positions, people may be afraid to point out our sins for fear of reprisal. Since we are “professional holy people,” people may assume the best of us and give us a long runway. When whole ministries or churches are built around us, a threat to the shepherd is viewed as a threat to the ministry, so people may be tempted to rally around us and protect us. We must find people not enamored by, dependent on, or intimidated by us.
We need to incorporate a regular practice of self-examination. Where have we experienced conflict? How are we self-soothing or self-indulgent? Where were we defensive or self-protective? Are there any patterns or themes that keep coming up? Then, we need to discuss with and submit to those who can see past our justifications and rationalizations and are committed to telling us the truth and holding us accountable.
4. Don’t Mistake Growth for Health
It is difficult to measure the overall spiritual growth of a church body. As leaders, we often use metrics like attendance, baptisms, conversions, or tithing to indicate our church’s health and maturity. While these can be indicators of spiritual fruit, they are not always. When speaking about toxic systems, therapist and author Dan Allender once said that growth isn’t always indicative of health; cancer, too, is fast-growing.² That’s a sobering thought.
As pastors and ministers, we can be doing many good things and experiencing growth while cancers like pride, self-righteousness, or authoritarianism are metastasizing in what appears to be an otherwise healthy body.
As Paul Tripp reminds us, “Successful leadership is not the same as a heart for Christ. Growth in influence must not be confused with growth in grace.” The accurate measure of our leadership is not the size of our church budget but the spiritual fruit displayed in those moments that no one is watching.
5. Acknowledge Your Power and The Weight of Your Words
Power differentials are inevitable in ministry. They are innate to the role. As shepherds, it is important to acknowledge our power. Our power comes in several forms: positional (authority from our role), spiritual (perceived closeness to God), informational (biblical understanding), and relational (emotional impact).
We may not want or even enjoy power, but we cannot afford to be naive or dismissive about our possession of it. We must instead learn to harness it for our own spiritual health and the health of those we lead.
Former Duke basketball coach Mike Krzyzewski understood how important it was to harness the power of his star player. In the film “I Hate Christian Laettner,” Coach K describes Laettner as a fire: “If you harness it and use it the right way, it'll heat your entire house. But if you let it get out of control, it'll burn the whole thing down.”
The same is true for us as shepherds. People trust and look to us for spiritual guidance, support, encouragement, and hope. In many cases, they may also associate how we view and treat them with how God views and treats them.
With this in mind, we must consider the weight our words and actions carry. No, we will not and cannot be perfect. But we must not give in to resignation or flippant attitudes. How we wield the power God has entrusted to us matters immensely—not just for our well-being but for the spiritual well-being of those in our care.
6. Speak Truth, Lead with Love
As I've navigated ministry, I've witnessed firsthand how churches can veer toward extremes—becoming either legalistic guardians of truth without compassion or compassionate communities that sidestep difficult truths. This razor's edge between love and truth is fundamental to our roles as shepherds. Scripture consistently calls us to speak truth and lead with love.
Though Jesus modeled this perfectly, his words to the seven churches in Revelation reveal that the church's struggle has always held the tension between truth and love.
To the church in Ephesus, Jesus says:
“I know all the things you do. I have seen your hard work and your patient endurance. I know you don’t tolerate evil people. You have examined the claims of those who say they are apostles but are not. You have discovered they are liars. You have patiently suffered for me without quitting.
But I have this complaint against you. You don’t love me or each other as you did at first! Look how far you have fallen! Turn back to me and do the works you did at first. If you don’t repent, I will come and remove your lampstand from its place among the churches. But this is in your favor: You hate the evil deeds of the Nicolaitans, just as I do.”
Revelation 2:2-6, NLT (emphasis mine)
The church in Ephesus labored on behalf of the gospel and didn’t tolerate sin, and Jesus commended them for this. But he said they did not love each other or him as they did when they first believed. For all of their excellent works and steadfast resolve against sin, they still lacked something Jesus views as vital and necessary in his church—love.
Jesus had a similar message to the church in Thyatira,
“I know all the things you do. I have seen your love, your faith, your service, and your patient endurance. And I can see your constant improvement in all these things.
But I have this complaint against you. You are permitting that woman—that Jezebel who calls herself a prophet—to lead my servants astray. She teaches them to commit sexual sin and to eat food offered to idols. I gave her time to repent, but she does not want to turn away from her immorality.
Therefore, I will throw her on a bed of suffering, and those who commit adultery with her will suffer greatly unless they repent and turn away from her evil deeds. I will strike her children dead. Then all the churches will know that I am the one who searches out the thoughts and intentions of every person. And I will give to each of you whatever you deserve.”
Revelation 2:19-23, NLT (emphasis mine)
The church in Thyatira was full of love, faith, and service, and Jesus commended it for this. But they tolerated sin and allowed it to dwell among them. For all their love and faith, they lacked something Jesus views as vital and necessary in his church—faithfulness to the truth.
One church was all love and no truth, and Jesus called them to repent. The other church was all truth and no love, and he also called them to repent. These dividing lines can easily be seen among churches today. Many churches have failed to uphold God’s truth in the name of love. They have allowed cultural narratives and norms to shape our understanding of and adherence to the truth rather than the other way around. And in doing so, they fail to love truly.
I have had the opportunity to visit churches from the southern Bahamas to the northeast coast of the United States. In many churches we’ve visited, the gospel isn't preached. In some services, Jesus' name is not even mentioned. If we fail to teach the whole counsel of God's word: sin, brokenness, repentance, forgiveness of sin, and justification through Christ, then we are not truly loving God's sheep.
On the other hand, some churches purport that “to speak the truth is to love,” but they do so in a way that does not reflect Christ’s heart toward his beloved. They govern with a heavy hand. In their pride, they liken loyalty and obedience to them—fallible humans—to obedience to the preeminent, infallible Jesus. On the outside, they appear to be extraordinary, excelling in all things, but cancer is increasing in and among them.
The Apostle Paul warns us of this:
“If I could speak all the languages of earth and of angels, but didn’t love others, I would only be a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. If I had the gift of prophecy, and if I understood all of God’s secret plans and possessed all knowledge, and if I had such faith that I could move mountains, but didn’t love others, I would be nothing. If I gave everything I have to the poor and even sacrificed my body, I could boast about it; but if I didn’t love others, I would have gained nothing.”
1 Corinthians 13:1-3, NLT
The ends do not justify the means. Our churches can excel in righteousness, faith, generosity, and wisdom, but that is worthless if, as their leaders, we fail to love. Paul characterizes love as patient, kind, not boastful, self-seeking, envious, arrogant, or rude. Everything else will pass away; only faith, hope, and love remain. And as Paul reminds us, the greatest of these is love (1 Corinthians 13:4-13). So speak the truth, but lead with love.
Leading the church is not merely about external appearances or maintaining control. It’s about humbly caring for God’s people and loving them as Christ loves his church. It is about doing what is right in the way God would do it.
Love for God and one another is supposed to distinguish the church from the rest of the world (John 13:35). Jesus calls shepherds to love and care for all members of the body—not just those who look like us, think like us, align with us, and show deference and loyalty to us.
The question for us as leaders is not simply, “Am I …?” but rather, “How am I…?”
How am I demonstrating humility in my leadership?
How am I actively listening to and receptive to the questions and concerns of others?
How am I balancing truth and love in my teaching and interactions?
How am I caring for the wounded, weak, or marginalized in our congregation?
How am I fostering an environment of open dialogue and constructive feedback?
How am I displaying the fruit of the Spirit (love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, gentleness, faithfulness, and self-control) in my leadership?
How am I addressing and repenting of my own sins and shortcomings, not just to my peers but to those I lead?
How am I understanding and communicating my complicated role as a pastor and boss among my staff? Have I clearly and kindly communicated how I see the work, myself, and their roles in this sensitive context?
How am I prioritizing the spiritual growth of others over the growth of our church's platform or influence?
How am I ensuring accountability for myself and other leaders in our church?
How am I handling disagreements or conflicts with others?
How am I encouraging diversity of thought and perspective within our leadership and congregation?
How am I fostering a culture of servant leadership rather than authoritarian control?
How am I supporting, caring for, and talking about those who choose to leave our church?
How am I preventing burnout in myself and other church staff or volunteers?
How am I ensuring that our church's practices align with the teachings of Jesus?
How am I living and leading as if the body of Christ really is a kingdom of priests, entrusted with the Holy Spirit? How am I honoring them as those who may have something to say to me and not just those who are to submit to me or get on board with what I am doing?
How am I regularly reminding those in my church that their loyalty and obedience are first and foremost to Christ, not me?
The consequences of unaddressed leadership issues extend far beyond the leaders themselves. When shepherds lead from unhealed places, confess and repent of sin, identify their idols, disregard their power, or fail to balance truth and love, the impact ripples throughout the congregation.
People leave churches for various reasons—personal preferences, family needs, or doctrinal disagreements. Sometimes, people even leave over petty disputes like carpet color. But people don’t typically leave the church because it’s broken. Most of the time, people can accept that. They leave when church leaders will not admit their brokenness and repent of their sins. They don’t leave because they have been wounded. They leave because there has been little care or effort to repair those wounds. They leave because church leaders dismiss, ostracize, or exile those who express concerns. They leave when shepherds called to model Christ’s love mock and demean them instead. They leave when shepherds refuse to be humble and think of others as better than themselves (Philippians 2:3). People leave when their leaders dismiss their hurt and concerns and make it all about themselves instead.
As a shepherd, if you look over your shoulder and see a trail of bodies bleeding out because of your words, ministry, or leadership, that should be a red flag. If you're comfortable with this damage and continue moving forward without any reconciliation or effort at repair, this reflects a serious problem.
Do you have former members who have not only left your church but have deconstructed their faith or struggle to enter a church building again?
As a leader, you rightly focus on your current sheep, but what about those who were once yours who are now wounded, lost, and longing to be brought back into the fold?
If you go to bed at night with a clear conscience, ask yourself: Is your conscience genuinely clear, or have you created a narrative that merely soothes it?
These are important questions to consider. God will hold us accountable—not only for how we preached his word but also for how we cared for the hearts of his people (James 3:1).
In the end, it is not how much we achieve but how faithfully we love, serve, and reflect Christ’s heart for his church. This is the true measure of our leadership and the only thing that will last (1 Corinthians 13).
May it be so, beginning with me.
Note: Next month, we will continue this series with Part 3: Comfort for the Wounded.
¹ This quote is attributed to Martyn Lloyd Jones, though I cannot find the original source. If anyone has information on its origins, please let me know.
²Allender, Dan. Bonus Episode: A Conversation with Dan Allender. The Allender Center Podcast, episode 31, 21 Dec. 2020, podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/bonus-episode-a-conversation-with-dan-allender/id1569401963?i=1000577448531.
Additional Resources for Shepherds:
The Emotionally Healthy Leader, by Pete Scazzero
The Wounded Healer, by Henri Nouwen
Dangerous Calling, by Paul Tripp
Redeeming Power, by Diane Langberg
When the Church Harms God’s People, by Diane Langberg
Strengthening the Soul of Your Leadership, by Ruth Haley Barton
Healthy Congregations, by Peter Steinke
Under the Unpredictable Plant, by Eugene Peterson
Pivot, by Scot McKnight
* The above book links are Amazon Associate links, which provide a small commission toward The WholeHearted Project. They do not affect your price in any way.
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