I don’t need to tell you that the world feels fractured. Politically, socially, and yes, religiously, the landscape is a minefield of cultural tensions. As a pastor, I know many feel that fracture running right through the doors of the church and, more often than not, right through our own hearts.

The call to pastoral leadership in this context has become immensely complex. The job description today often feels less like pastor and more like a combination of cultural mediator, theological punching bag, and emotional trauma counselor.

Yet, in the midst of this complexity, our ultimate anchor remains profoundly simple.

The servant leadership to which we are called finds its purest expression in the Gospel of John. In chapter 13, Jesus knew his time was short. He didn’t use his final hours to issue a mission statement or hold a strategic planning session. Instead, he took off his outer garment, picked up a towel and a basin, and washed the feet of his disciples.

This is the non-negotiable definition of Christian leadership: a call not to power, but to humble service. We are called to embody the cross, which means putting the needs of the flock—even the dirty, resistant, and confused parts of the flock—before our own comfort or reputation. It is a humble, dirty, and often thankless act of love.

When a leader sincerely attempts to be faithful to Jesus, Scripture, and the rich tradition of United Methodist theology—a tradition that demands us to hold together grace, Scripture, reason, experience, and tradition—we are almost guaranteed to disappoint everyone.

My sincere pursuit of the radical, inclusive love of the Gospel is often labeled “too liberal” by one segment of the congregation. Simultaneously, my commitment to the authority of Scripture and the tradition of the church is immediately dismissed as “too conservative” by others. All the while, I am simply trying to remain faithful Jesus.

This environment has given rise to a deeply disappointing form of spiritual toxicity. We face not just theological disagreement, but outright personal attack. The name-calling—the accusations of heresy, the claims of being a “CINO” (Christian In Name Only), or whatever new term is trending online—is mean-spirited and fundamentally unchristian.

It is particularly painful when the genuine anger and disappointment people feel about our broader denominational decision are indiscriminately directed toward the local pastor who is simply trying to serve the community. Honestly, it hurts when people dismissively label pastors and ministry leaders as “woke liberal social justice warriors” when all we are doing is trying to follow in the Way of Jesus. 

Perhaps the most disheartening trend is the retreat from true Christian dialogue. People are making rash decisions—leaving the church, withdrawing from ministry, severing relationships, withholding gifts—based on incomplete or false narratives they’ve encountered outside our walls. The absence of a simple conversation is a wound. A moment of discussion with their pastor could often correct the misunderstanding or confusion, but many choose to walk away in silence, taking their pain and misinformation with them. And, let’s be honest, some don’t walk away in silence. They’ll talk about the church and why they are leaving with anyone who is willing to listen…except, of course, the pastor and church leadership!

This phenomenon is fueled by the rise of unvetted authority. We now live in an age where those who lack theological training have elevated themselves as experts simply because they found someone on Google who happens to agree with their pre-existing bias. They proof-text a verse of Scripture—ripped entirely out of its historical, literary, and theological context—and wield it as a weapon against the very community of Christ that gave it to us. It’s an act of deep theological arrogance that undermines centuries of scholarship and community discernment.

And then, at least for this pastor, there is the deepest hurt: the betrayal from within the body of clergy.

I must confess a profound disappointment in fellow clergy colleagues who have chosen to engage in tactics that can only be described as manipulative. When leaders actively lie and alter facts in order to “woo” people away from neighboring congregations, it is not discipleship, it’s not evangelism—it is opportunism. The concept of “stealing sheep” is an ancient indictment in the church, and its practice today is no less offensive to the Holy Spirit. We must trust that the success of a true ministry lies in fidelity to the Gospel, not in numerical gains achieved through unethical, divisive means. That kind of short-term thinking will never be rewarded in the long haul of God’s Kingdom.

So, what shall we do? I believe we must return to the towel.

We put on the apron of a servant, we bow down low, and we wash the feet. We commit ourselves anew to the hard, often lonely work of being a faithful pastor. We will keep preaching the transforming power of grace, teaching the depth of Scripture, and seeking the unity of Christ, even if it means we are never popular.

We lead not for praise, but for Christ. We serve not for reward, but because we have been served. And we trust that even in the storm, the work done in humble love is the only work that truly lasts.

So, if you are a pastor who is feeling the heaviness of our fractured world, know that you are not alone. Know that you are are seen…you are valued…you are loved…you are needed.

Happy Pastor’s Appreciation Month!

It was a Friday night about 14 years ago.

I was leading the wedding rehearsal for a young couple at the church I was serving. I was wearing my typical rehearsal attire: khaki’s, polo, my favorite Doc Martens. For those who know me, this qualifies as “dressed up!” I mean, the polo was even tucked in!

As the bridal party was gathering, the father of the bride introduced himself and started asking some questions: “Where’s the altar? Where’s the kneeling rail? Where do people get saved?”

Based on his line of questioning, I had a pretty good idea of the type of church this gentleman attended. We had a nice conversation about worship styles and ministry approaches. It seemed like the conversation was coming to a close when we both agreed that keeping Jesus as the focus is what’s most important.

Then he made a statement that was more puzzling than anything else. “You don’t look like a pastor.”

I implied that I’d rather “live and be” like a pastor than just keep up the appearance of a pastor and then asked, “So, what exactly does that mean?”

He replied, “Oh, you know…suit and tie, clean shaven, slick backed hair, that kind of stuff.”

Now, to be fair, my hair was in a bit of a wild state as I was in the middle of a wager to grow my hair out like chef Hubert Keller.

I’ve always embraced an attitude of, “this is who I am, so this is what you’ll get” when it comes to my pastoral “style.” Whether it’s my attire, my use of humor/sarcasm, my early onset grumpiness, my proclamation that I have one suit and I only wear it for weddings, funerals, and to ask for large sums of money, or my desire to help us not take ourselves too seriously, I really just don’t care that much what others think.

While I believe we should take care of ourselves so that we are healthy enough to serve, I’m not sure God truly desires that we place too much pride in our appearance. In fact, 1 Samuel 16:7 pretty much confirms my assumption, “…Humans see only what is visible to the eyes, but the Lord sees into the heart.”

And, most church-going Christians will agree, “it’s the heart that matters most.” But, far too many are still convinced that we need to come in our “Sunday best.”

I remember hearing a colleague share about a member who pulled him aside to announce his disappointment in one of the younger members church attire. The person announced that he felt it was disrepectful to wear jeans, a t-shirt and sneakers to a worship service. “That’s no way to honor God,” the man stated.

My friend replied, “Well, I’m not sure if you are aware of this, but that person is wearing $500 designer jeans, $1,200 sneakers, and is one of our most faithful and generous members. And, he shows up early every Sunday to lead our high school Bible study.” Now, I’m not sure he should have talked about the persons generosity…but I know he was just trying to humble (and shut up) the grumpy member.

Some have suggested that we dress in a way that reflects our context. Well, the most direct neighbors to our church would probably be the people sleeping in our alley or across the street at the mission. Wearing a suit and tie just might feel a bit out of touch. Down the street is the “business sector.” 15 years ago, the suit and tie would have been more prevalent, but today even the business sector has become more casual. If I see someone in a suit and tie, I assume they are on their way to court!

I mean, the largest and fastest growing churches in my local context are some of the most casual, informal churches I’ve ever visited. Some of the pastors and worship leaders in these congregations look like they just got out of their pontoon or were in the background of a Justin Bieber video. I mean, my only question is why are Dahmer glasses (wire-rimmed, double-bridged, aviator-style frames) so popular among evangelical megachurch pastors?

Maybe it isn’t about attire after all?

I mean, just exactly who are we trying to impress? God or our neighbor? I don’t think anyone could convince me that those who “dress up” score more points with God than those who don’t.

It’s not about being hip and cool…it’s not about our Sunday best…it’s about being ourselves – being who God created us to be.

So, whether you are a suit and tie, dress and hat, jeans and t-shirt, formal, informal or business casual type person, just be yourself! I’m conviced that God prefers that we all “be” the part than “look” the part.