5 Things I Learned My First Year as a Lead Pastor
In about a week from this writing, I'll mark one year as a Lead Pastor. It's been a long road to get here. I spent 15 years as a kids' pastor, then served at two more churches as an executive pastor before God called me to this role.
Now that I'm in the big chair, I can say with confidence that things look different from here. I'm just as busy as I was in kidmin, but the scope, the worries, and the challenges are bigger. From what I've observed in other leaders at this level, I know I'm just getting started. Still, I wanted to share five things this first year has taught me.
1. I Don't Know What I Don't Know
My lead pastor in high school used to describe the four levels of students this way:
Freshmen don't know what they don't know.
Sophomores know that they don't know.
Juniors know but don't know they know.
Seniors know that they know.
This past year I've been firmly seated in the freshman category.
I thought I understood what leading a church required, and in many respects I was right. But there were things I was genuinely unprepared for. Do we cancel two Sundays in a row because of snow? How do you properly file taxes for a 501(c)(3)? How do you decide what gets fixed now and what goes on the back burner?
As the only full-time staff member at my church, a lot of basic maintenance and decision-making lands on my desk. I can find someone to handle things, but I'm the one who has to make sure it happens. I can't defer upward the way I could as a kids' or executive pastor.
I spent much of this year learning where my blind spots are and figuring out how to move forward. I made a few missteps along the way simply because I didn't know what I didn't know. I won't make all of them again.
2. Preaching Every Week Is Different from Teaching a Kids' Lesson
I'm well acquainted with the reality that Sunday is always coming. You give everything you have to one service, and seven days later you do it again. That's why I've always said ministry is a marathon, not a sprint.
But preparing a sermon is a different kind of weight than preparing a kids' lesson. They share similar components, but the burden isn't the same. When I was in kidmin, I was focused on three things: are they safe, are they having fun, and are they learning about Jesus? I could usually answer those questions just by watching kids walk out of the room.
As the lead pastor, the questions are different and most of the answers are out of my hands. Did the kids enjoy their time? I wasn't there to see it. Did worship draw people closer to Jesus? I was present, but I wasn't on stage. Did the greeters make people feel at home? I spent five minutes in the lobby, but my hospitality volunteers carried that.
The one thing I control is what I say in my 30 to 40 minutes behind the pulpit. I don't have a purchased curriculum. I don't have a scope and sequence. I have my Bible and the Holy Spirit. That's more than enough, but it's a different kind of preparation than I was used to, and the weight of it is something I'm still growing into.
3. You Don't Need an Answer for Everything, But You Need One Soon
In kidmin, the big questions were things like when is VBS and when is camp. I baptized occasionally, served communion, and once had a missionary come speak on a Wednesday night.
As the lead pastor, the questions are in a different category. When are we doing baptisms? How often do we take communion? Should we support this missionary, and if so, are they coming on a Sunday? How do we approach LGBTQ issues? Do I address what's happening in the culture and politics this week or stay quiet?
These are my questions to answer now. Casting vision as a lead pastor means providing clarity when hard questions surface. You can lean on the systems your predecessor built for a while, but eventually you have to chart your own course.
I spent a lot of this year asking questions before making moves. I want to understand why a fence was built before I tear it down. Some leaders plow through and deal with the fallout later. That's not me. Whenever I step into a new role, I try not to change anything for the first six months to a year.
My congregation has been full of grace as I've found my footing, and I'm grateful for that. But I also know that grace isn't unlimited. The decisions I've been sitting on need to be made, and the time to make them is coming soon.
4. People Matter More Than Systems
I'm a systems person. I love building them, refining them, and watching them work. And casting vision is one of my primary responsibilities as a lead pastor. But big vision and strong systems don't accomplish anything without people to carry them out.
I learned years ago that I can't do this alone. In this chair, that's more true than ever. In kidmin I couldn't be in two places at once. As a lead pastor, I can't be in five. I have to trust my leaders to carry the vision, work the systems, and stay close to God. My job is to check in and offer guidance where it's needed. This entire year has been another level of letting go and trusting others to get the job done.
But beyond the work, my role now includes pastoral care in a way it didn't before. I can't spend my days in the office checking things off a list. I have to be with my people. Praying for them. Teaching them. Walking alongside them through big decisions. I can't hand that off to a care pastor or a discipleship pastor anymore. It's mine to do. And honestly, I'm grateful for it. Because that's where the joy of pastoring actually lives.
5. My Relationship with God Is More Important Than Ever
Three years ago I was part of a failed succession plan. I wrote about it here. It was one of the most humbling experiences of my life, but one of the most formative. Out of that season came spiritual disciplines that have carried me through this entire year.
As the lead pastor, my job is to hear from God and set the direction for this church. It's my job to make sure my own heart is in the right place every week. I set the spiritual temperature of the room. I can't give what I don't have. If I want to develop disciples, I have to be one myself.
I'll be honest: there were seasons as a kids' pastor when I phoned it in. That was a disservice to the kids, to my volunteers, and to God. I can't do that in this role. Ministry has a way of chewing people up and spitting them out, and the only thing that sustains you through it is your relationship with God. A year in this chair has made that more clear than ever.
I wouldn't wish losing a job on anyone. But I'm eternally grateful for what God did through that season. I wouldn't be here without it.
Leading a church is different from leading a kids' ministry. The jobs share are similar, but the weight is heavier. I still have a lot to learn. But I know I'm where God has called me, and I'm walking with him every day. As I do, I trust I'll end up right where he wants me.
That's really all any of us can ask for.
If you're considering a transition of your own, the posts below might help. May God guide you to the place he prepared in advance for you.
