Divided vote eventually unites church

I heard about a church that called a pastor with a vote of 200-3. The pastor spent his first six months trying to find out the names of the three who voted against him. Then he spent the next six months trying to please those three. At the end of the year, the church voted to fire the pastor. The vote was three to keep him, and 200 to get rid of him!

There's an old saying that you can't please everybody, and that is certainly true in church, which is why we need to try to please the Lord first. However, if the church is evenly divided, it is wise to back off a decision and seek to bring spiritual unity before proceeding, especially when voting on a pastor.

A pastor told me an interesting story about a close vote to call a pastor in a rural Baptist church near Claxton, Georgia. The church voted 51% in favor and 49% against calling a man as their pastor. Ignoring conventional wisdom, the preacher accepted the call, and came to the church as their pastor. After a couple of years, however, he resigned. Upon his resignation, he said, "I have unified the church. When I came, half of them were against me. Now all of them are against me."

Elections can either unite people or divide people. Unfortunately, our country is pretty divided over politics. But as Christians, God calls us to be uniters, not dividers. In fact, however we voted, we are called upon to pray for those in leadership. Scripture says, "I urge, then, first of all, that requests, prayers, intercession and thanksgiving be made for everyone-- for kings and all those in authority, that we may live peaceful and quiet lives in all godliness and holiness" (1 Timothy 2:1-2, NIV). Someone might say, "Yeah, but our politicians are so bad these days." I would remind that person that in New Testament days, the politicians threw the Christians to the lions, but the Christians still prayed for them.

We can do no less.

Copyright 2008 by Bob Rogers.

Keeping your dark secret from your preacher

Preachers are often called upon to keep confidential their counseling conversations with the congregation. Many pastors who have been in the ministry for years have come to learn some deep, dark secrets of members that we must take to our graves. But thanks to HIPAA, one of the secrets we used to find out about has been hidden. I'm talking about the real first names of church members.

You see, hospitals list patients by the name that is on their insurance, not by the name their family and friends call them. In the old days, the preacher could look at the list of patients at the information desk, and find out, for example, that John Smith was actually Orville J. Smith. Of course, John didn't like to use the name "Orville" and would beg the preacher to keep it a secret. Going to visit "Bubba"? No problem, you could just ask for his last name and find him. But then along came HIPAA.

HIPAA, which stands for the Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act of 1996, is a law that protects the privacy of hospital patients and wreaks havoc on the hospital visitation ministry of pastors. Under HIPAA, patients have the right to refuse the release of any information to anybody, including their own pastors. And under HIPAA, anybody inquiring about a patient must give the correct name of the patient-- even if the patient doesn't go by that name.

So now when the preacher goes to the hospital and asks for John Smith, the lady at the information desk looks down at "Orville J. Smith" on her computer screen, and then looks up at the preacher with a smirk and says, "I'm sorry, we don't have anybody by that name." The preacher can beg and plead and promise to do a wedding for her son for free, but she will just say, "Have you ever heard of HIPAA? I can't release that information unless you can give me the correct name."

I must admit, we preachers had it coming. After all, for years we have abused that privileged information, barging into the hospital room and loudly asking, "How are you feeling Orville?" as John (a.k.a. Orville) hides under his sheets in embarrassment. But no more. Now, only God and your doctor have to know your real first name.

So now Beatrice and Herman can keep their secrets, if they so desire. (No offense if you like those names, it's just that Beatrice fell from #44 to #982 among popular baby names in the past century, while Herman fell from #45 to #974). The preacher never has to know. That is, unless they want him to come pray before their next knee surgery.

Copyright 2008 by Bob Rogers.