I don't get angry very

often. (I realize that my wife and sons might debate the

absolute truth of that statement, so let me rephrase: I

don't get angry very often with people who live somewhere

other than in my house.)

But last week, after

hearing about a situation that occurred in the life of a

friend of mine, I felt the anger rising, then boiling,

moving on to seething, and, finally, erupting. I still

feel the fury raging.

No, Bill Clinton didn't

announce for a third term (thanks be to God for term

limits) and gas prices didn't rise to $28 a gallon

(yet!). The matter that aroused my latent, carnal passion

was much simpler than that.

Over 10 years ago, a young

man, probably 24 or 25 years of age then, took on the

monumental task of planting a new church in the metro

Atlanta area. The young man, who I will hereafter refer

to as "Jim," had experience as a youth pastor,

a staff pastor, and as the pastor of at least one small

congregation. He had a college degree and a beautiful

bride.

Church planting is tough

work, much tougher than going to an existing church, as

Jim would discover. Over the years, he has worked several

part-time jobs in order to supplement his income and ease

the financial burden of his new congregation. During that

10 years, Jim led his small congregation to purchase

several acres of land in a prime spot and to build a

building that included a beautiful sanctuary, classrooms,

and offices. The church and land, valued at between

$400,000 and 500,000, only has an indebtedness of about

$128,000. I'd call that success!

So impressive is the

character of this young man that, over the past decade,

his pastoral peers have repeatedly elected him to office

in his denomination. Jim is a good preacher, a

compassionate shepherd, a humble man, and a man you would

trust with your life, your wife, or your daughter. He is

a man of integrity and honesty and if anyone were to

accuse him of a moral failing, no one who knows him would

believe a word of it.

Some years ago, when I had

a heart catheterization, I lay alone in the hospital bed,

unable to sleep, nervous about the impending procedure

and the possible results. Jim showed up in my hospital

room a little before midnight and spent time with me and

prayed.

I like Jim. I respect him.

I even admire him. Yet, in the last couple of years,

Jim's church has struggled. Some, enamored by the lure of

the entertainment centers that pose as churches, have

left to seek spiritual thrills at the latest dog and pony

show. Some have moved away due to job changes. Some,

irritated over some imagined slight or perceived problem,

have left mad.

Such is life in any church.

But for a small, beginning congregation, the results can

be crippling.

Jim and his family (they

have two small children now) have sacrificed tremendously

and have paid the bills of the church out of their own

personal funds. This good man has amassed personal debts

of several thousands of dollars trying to keep the church

afloat until fresh growth comes, as it surely will.

Believing that the senior

pastor of a large growing church of his denomination

might be interested in helping on a temporary basis, Jim

scheduled an appointment with the pastor, who is known in

his circles to be a "missions-minded man."

Jim didn't know if the

large church with the important pastor would help or not

but this man, who has sacrificed incredibly for his

congregation, was willing to sacrifice his pride, as

well, as he made his needs known. And what followed is

why I am angry.

The large church pastor

questioned Jim's spirituality, his prayer life, and his

commitment to Bible study, among other things. He said

(according to Jim) that if Jim didn't pray at least three

hours a day, he had no right to expect success.

The large church pastor

(who went to an already big church with a big salary and

watched both grow even bigger) said that he might be

interested in sending some people to attend Jim's church

but, in return, Jim would run things the way the large

church pastor said to run them. The large church pastor

would call the shots and Jim would, in effect, be his

lackey. After sacrificing, scrimping, and saving for 10

years, Jim was offered a "hostile takeover."

The large church pastor

then summoned a staff member into the meeting to further

humiliate Jim by instructing the staff member to tell Jim

what all he had learned from the all-wise, nearly

godlike, large church pastor during his tenure in the

large church. Or, if Jim resigned the church, the large

church pastor, might consider taking over the church

all-together as an extension of his already huge ego,

er... church (sorry!).

Jim, a drowning man, looked

to the large pastor to help save his spiritual and

professional life. The large church pastor reached out

his hand, put it on Jim's head, and held him under the

water until he nearly drowned. In the end, the pastor who

had rebuked Jim for not praying for three hours a day did

not even offer to have prayer with him before he sent him

home empty-handed.

I shared this situation

with two other pastor friends, one Lutheran, the other

United Methodist. The Lutheran pastor is himself a church

planter who began a new church that has grown to over

1,000 in worship. The Methodist minister was sent to a

small, country church that, under his leadership, has

been transformed into a vibrant, growing suburban

congregation. These are successful men with a proven

ministry. They were both aghast at the insensitivity and

cruelty of the large church pastor.

One man, whose name escapes

me, once said, "I tremble when I remember that God

is just." Jesus warned against having the ability to

help a brother in need and, instead, sending them away

empty, pontificating, "Be warmed and filled."

Jim is not a member of my

denomination, but we are going to stand with him

prayerfully and financially. He's a good man. He deserves

better than to be humiliated by a man who thinks of

himself in ways that are way too high and lofty.

I still want to get in the

car, drive to the large church, knock on the large church

pastor's door and just slap him. But then I remember,

"Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord. I will

repay."

[Father

David Epps is the founding pastor of Christ the King

Church in Peachtree City. He may be contacted at [email protected] ].