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Drinking from a Fire Hydrant

Anonymous

I had just accepted the call to First Church.* While the setting of my new charge was rural, the church was large and historical. Some of the brightest and best the denomination had to offer preceded me to that pulpit. During its glory days, it boasted a popular local television ministry, mega-productions, and outstanding missions giving. It had been one of the largest churches within the Fellowship. That was all past, though.

My predecessor had been dismissed because of his long-running extramarital affair with a woman in the church. Did I say that he had been dismissed? No, that doesn’t tell the story. He was fired on the spot. His ministerial card was taken from him. He did not go back to the church to say good-bye or to apologize. Without notifying the district, he emptied his office and house in the middle of the night and moved away. The newspaper placed a story about his departure on the front page complete with his picture. One Sunday the church had a pastor; the next Sunday the church had a denominational leader telling them things that they didn’t want to hear, things that didn’t make sense.

My résumé is rather full—various churches, committee work, and a short stint as a Bible college professor prove that I have been around for awhile. Nonetheless, I was ill prepared for what I was to face. A friend told me that pastoring First Church was going to be like taking a drink from a fire hydrant. How did he know? An acquaintance simply remarked, "May God have mercy on your soul." I would have preferred a simple "congratulations."

Who of us has not heard of the tragic moral failure of some preacher? An article in a 1997 issue of Newsweek noted that various surveys suggest that as many as 30 percent of male Protestant ministers have had sexual relationships with women other than their wives. The Journal of Pastoral Care in 1993 reported a survey of Southern Baptist pastors in which 14 percent acknowledged they had engaged in "sexual behavior inappropriate to a minister." It also reported that 70 percent had counseled at least one woman who had had intercourse with another minister. As disturbing as these statistics are, the most disturbing one was that it happened at the church I had come to pastor and to the people I had come to love.

There is a great gulf fixed between reality and media news reports. The television anchorperson shares a dramatic 30-second sound bite. Maybe a brief video is aired of the repentant minister. People hear, but they do not understand the full impact of that which has taken place. The vision of the local church dies as if by a massive and sudden heart attack. The pain is akin to a toothache that never goes away. Trust and confidence in the clergy—all clergy—is replaced by anger, suspicion, and a sense of betrayal.

One gentleman in the church did not like me (did I say one?). I knew that I had done nothing to engender his animosity, but his words and attitude confirmed that I needn’t expect anything from him on Pastor Appreciation Day. In an attempt to play the role of peacemaker, I finally decided to invite the brother out to lunch (my pay). Before we could be seated, his awful anger spilled out like a cup of hot coffee on some unsuspecting patron. I quickly realized that the special of the day was going to be grilled preacher. I had not noticed, but my antagonist had brought a book with him for the meeting. Prior to me taking my seat, he slammed the volume down on the table in front of me. He said, "Preacher, I want to know what you are going to do about this." His bony finger was pointing at the title of the book, Integrity, by the former president of PTL, Richard Dortch. He then proceeded to tell me about how everyone from the district to the deacons had failed the integrity test in dealing with my predecessor. He wanted to know what I was going to do to restore that virtue to the church.

Due to the great men who had pastored First Church, I enjoyed asking the people about the strengths of my predecessors and which one they liked best. Certain names came up time and time again as the people reminisced. However, I found it peculiar that if someone brought up the name of the errant pastor, they did so with a whisper. It was almost as if his name was off-limits, as if the very mention of his name was defiling. To be sure, a certain shame was attached to his memory.

The restoration process

One day, as I was in my office, I received a memo from God. I found the note tucked away in the words of 2 Corinthians 2:6–11.** The apostle Paul wrote:

I was smart enough to understand what the Lord was saying. It was time to restore and forgive the fallen brother. Satan had won a victory, but God was putting a plan together whereby He would win the war. The battle plan would be based on the church’s ability to forgive and to give grace.

Neil Anderson in his book, The Bondage Breaker, notes: "Forgiveness is agreeing to live with the consequences of another person’s sin." As the pastor, there had not been a day since I had become the leader of this church that I had not borne the consequences of my predecessor’s sin. The congregation also had to deal with the fallout from his sin. Some no longer attended the church. Others used his sin as an excuse to do the same thing. Marriages were therefore negatively impacted. People were hurt by coworkers who charged that First Church was made up of nothing but a bunch of hypocrites. The enemies of the Cross had a field day. Now it was apparent that the Lord was calling the believers to forgive this great sin. Would they? Could they?

Initial contact

It was shortly before Christmas when I made my initial contact with the fallen minister. I felt a little awkward as I wrote a letter, telling him of my interest in beginning a process of restoration. A thousand questions raced through my mind. How would he respond? Would he respond? How would the board react to the effort? What about the congregation? The community? My superintendent? My wife? The other woman? My staff?

I fully understood that the risks were great. The old adage warns, "Fools rush in where angels fear to tread." Was I that fool? Was I about to let something out that couldn’t be put back? I didn’t know. However, I felt that the Lord had spoken. That was enough.

The process was not easy, nor was each successive step clearly marked. There were times when I didn’t know if I was walking on eggshells or trudging through a minefield. I always knew that the Lord was my light, but there were moments when I wished He would have used more wattage. One thing was clear, though. As the senior pastor, I was the one who had to oversee the process. I could not delegate this task to one of my associates. Whether or not I wanted the ball didn’t matter. It was mine.

The brother called me shortly after Christmas. He told how he cried after he had read my letter. For the first time in several years he had a glimmer of hope that his long nightmare might finally come to an end. He said he would submit himself to the process and would do anything I thought necessary. His wife had stayed with him. She too was hopeful but cautious.

Research into the matter of restoring such an individual proved to be less than encouraging. One friend in a position to know bluntly warned that if a preacher had one moral failure, he would have another.

Another counselor warned me not to proceed. His reasoning: "What if he suffers a relapse?" Again I received a memo. This time it was from 1 Samuel 17. David was standing before King Saul. Goliath was waiting in the wings. The young shepherd stated his case as to why he should be allowed to face the giant. "The Lord who delivered me from the paw of the lion and the paw of the bear will deliver me from the hand of this Philistine" (verse 37). As David, I too was reminded of some victories. People had said that a homosexual couldn’t be changed, that "once a heroin addict, always a heroin addict," and yet I had seen both types delivered and restored by the power of God. What was a moral failure in the hands of omnipotence?

At this point, the communication between me and my predecessor quickened. We agreed on a tentative deadline. I needed time to work some things out. He and his wife needed some time, too. The deadline assured each of us that the process would not run on forever. This date became the light at the end of the tunnel.

Proverbs 15:22 notes, "Plans fail for lack of counsel, but with many advisers they succeed." I knew that I could not afford to fail, therefore I surrounded myself with a host of wise men and women. After talking to my wife, I then approached a man in the church. I respected his godly counsel. This wise deacon knew perhaps better than anyone else the feelings of the church. When I told him what was on my heart, he encouraged me to proceed. He promised to hold the matter in strict confidence and offered me his complete and unwavering support.

Meeting with church leadership

Over the next weeks, I met privately with each deacon and staff pastor back to the time of the fall. In confidence, I opened my heart to them. I read Scripture, letters, and shared my objectives. Again, there was near unanimous backing for the plan. One former deacon, though, did express some doubts and felt as if I should halt the process. One former staff pastor said he didn’t care one way or another and didn’t want anything else to do with the restoration. Need I tell you he was bitter? Nevertheless, I felt as if I had the green light that I needed.

Several other individuals proved to be invaluable, including my predecessor’s best friend. He helped me determine the sincerity of the errant one’s repentance as well as his motives in agreeing to go through the process. I talked with George Wood, general secretary of the Assemblies of God, H.B. London of Focus on the Family, Richard Dobbins of EMERGE Ministries, and three district superintendents who were also my friends. A godly missionary and his wife covered me with hours of prayer support. Each of these individuals provided me with a bit of wisdom that I received from no one else. Interestingly enough, even with so many in the loop, the integrity of the process was never compromised by even one leak. Each of these people acted wisely.

Contacting the other woman

H.B. London told me that in order for the process to have real integrity, the other woman—Connie—had to be involved. She too needed to be restored. (While I knew this was true, that was not what I wanted to hear.)

I had seen Connie once or twice. She was divorced and no longer attended the church. I knew she felt rejection from the body of Christ, and I was not sure how she would receive my telephone call. Connie answered before the fifth ring. (After five rings I would have hung up and told the Lord that I couldn’t reach her.) She was warm. She said that only the week before my call, she had taken every card, letter, and newspaper clipping that related to that period in her life and had burned them in her fireplace. She also told how a friend reminded her that she still had time to sue the church and former pastor if she wanted to. She was not interested. In her words, she had already brought enough pain upon the church. As I began to share my quest, Connie cried. She had been praying for this very thing to happen. She was thrilled as the truth dawned on her that God had answered the prayers of an adulterous woman. Connie was on board, but more important than that, she was also now on the path of spiritual restoration herself.

Meeting with the district

It was important during this time that my predecessor contact the district and offer to meet with the district leadership. An apology from him was in order. It was given and received. Then, he was also instructed to write a letter to Connie. Without going into any specifics of the past, he was to simply apologize and ask for forgiveness. I both read and delivered the letter. It was proper and professional without the usual references to "dear" and "love." While the affair had ended years earlier, the letter provided the participants with a formal closure. It also gave him a forum to say that he had failed her as a pastor and that he was truly sorry.

Restoring the fallen brother

Meeting with the board and staff

The date we had set finally arrived. My predecessor and his wife understood that they were to meet that night with me and my wife, the present and former staff pastors, and board men back to the time of the offense. The wives were also invited. In very graphic and honest terms, he confessed his sin and begged forgiveness. Only once before had I seen such agony worked out in repentance. There was not a dry eye in the place. One by one his former leadership team stood and affirmed him and assured him that he was forgiven. He then asked me to conduct a renewal of vows between him and his wife. He noted that it was in this church he had violated his vows, and it was here he wanted to have them restored.

We agreed that a second meeting was in order. This one was to be the biggie. He and his wife were to come back in 2 weeks on a Sunday night and speak to the congregation. He was to confess his sin (minus the gory details) and ask forgiveness. The following Sunday morning I told the congregation of my plan for my predecessor’s restoration and of the process that I had been working through. Again, no one had a clue. I then preached on grace and forgiveness. I let them know that throughout the process my two main concerns were to walk in obedience to what I thought the Lord was speaking to my heart and to safeguard the welfare of the church body. I reminded them that in the long history of First Church, only one major blot had marred the testimonies of their pastors. That blot was obviously the sin of my predecessor. It was time to remove that blot and to replace it with God’s great love. In the future, when someone reviewed the history of that church, they would be drawn less to the sin than to the grace that covered the sin.

Meeting the congregation again

The following Sunday night finally came. The long process had now come down to one evening service. He and his wife arrived on time. As the two of them walked out on that platform after a lapse of nearly 6 years, the place erupted with shouts of love and rounds of applause. Everyone stood and stood. Then, nearly everyone cried. After he and his wife shared their tearful statements, I said that I would allow 5 to 10 people to respond to what had just been said. The aisles were immediately flooded as people stood in long lines to share statements of grace, loving memories, and yes—forgiveness.

I promise you, no one there that night will ever forget that service. The church was truly the Church—the body of Christ. They looked like it, acted like it, and talked like it. Can I confess my pride? I was and am so very proud of them. Remember the gentleman who wanted to see integrity restored? He never said a word that evening. He simply walked in front of the platform and gave me two thumbs up. I understood.

After my wife and I returned home from church, I sat down in my chair. I felt as if I deserved to finally relax. The sky hadn’t fallen and the church hadn’t mutinied. My wife was in the kitchen when God showed up again. This time He didn’t send a memo. Instead, He sent His precious Holy Spirit. I felt Him as close as I had ever felt Him. He simply spoke to my heart and said, "Well done." I couldn’t hold back the tears as I took pleasure in God’s pleasure.

Conclusion

Since that night, my predecessor has become a dear and trusted friend. I truly love him and his beautiful wife. He never suffered a relapse. He won’t. The denomination gave him back his ministerial card, and a district recommends him regularly to churches. I have had him preach for me. He did a great job. Connie moved away, remarried, and I understand that she is back in church now. You see, God loved her, too.

As I think back over that time, I have come to understand that drinking from a fire hydrant isn’t all that bad, if the water gushing out is the living water of God’s grace.

Author’s name remains confidential.

*All names, places, and dates in this article have been changed.

**Scripture references are from the New International Version.