On Leaving Well & Not Leaving Well Enough Alone

Concerning my resignation from FBC Freeport (now Pathway Church).

Introduction

Before I resigned, as pastor, from First Baptist Freeport (now Pathway Church), I sat down with a friend in ministry, to discuss the difficult decision.  He counseled me, above all else, to “leave well.”  This is my testimony of trying to leave well, and of church leadership refusing to leave well enough alone.

Days after seeking my friend’s counsel, and with “leave well” ringing in my ears, I sat down with the two head deacons and shared my decision to resign.  All things considered, we had a very amiable meeting, with all of us agreeing to seek the best interest of the church.

In that meeting, I offered to remain in my capacity as pastor for four more Sundays to make for a less abrupt transition. They agreed. In return, they agreed to pay me my regular salary for those four weeks, and they gave me four weeks to move out of the parsonage.  I agreed. We also agreed it was best that I announce my resignation, in person, on an upcoming Sunday.  They asked that we not promote my future plans until after I was no longer their pastor, to which I agreed. 

We were all of one accord.  We shook hands.  We prayed.  One of them even hugged me. Differences aside, it appeared that the two deacon chairmen and I had managed to come together in the best interest of the church.  So far, my effort to ‘leave well’ seemed to be going well.

In fact, days later, the situation looked even brighter when one of the deacon chairmen called me to a meeting where he asked me to consider rescinding my resignation.  After I explained why I wouldn’t do that, we ended up discussing the prospect of replanting First Baptist under my pastoral leadership.  By the end of our meeting, the deacon chairman gave me the distinct impression that he understand my reasons for resigning, and that he agreed with my assessment of the situation.  I say that because our meeting ended with him agreeing to call the entire deacon board together, for an additional meeting, to discuss the prospect of merging with our new church plant.  In fact, he told me, at the very least, he felt confident that First Baptist would be glad to let Amanda and I stay in the parsonage longer to support us in this new endeavor.  According to his own words, “they wouldn’t need the parsonage for 6-12 months.”

It was starting to look like I was leaving so well that I wouldn’t be leaving at all!  I couldn’t imagine a better outcome. 

Leave well enough alone

I went into that next meeting expecting to discuss a merger, or at the very least, to foster a working relationship for the future, and hopefully gain a few extra months in the parsonage.  

As I read the faces in the room, I quickly understood that we weren’t merging.  In fact, the deacon board informed me that First Baptist couldn’t merge with the new church plant, because their bylaws expressly stated “they must remain baptist.”

I thought about mentioning the fact that I, too, am Baptist, and the new church plant also is Baptist. (In fact, we subscribed to the same confessional statement held by the original charter members of the Southern Baptist Convention in 1845.) I decided to keep that to myself. It was clear the men in the room had no intention to merge, and perhaps it was for the best.

I refocused on my origional mission to ‘leave well.’ Who knows? Maybe the deacons would still bless Amanda and I with a little more time in the parsonage, to help us get on our feet.

Nope. I was promptly informed that the upcoming Sunday would be my last Sunday, and instead of four weeks to move out, they changed it to two weeks.  My head was spinning.  What was happening? I sat there speechless, trying to get my bearings.

In the days following, these men broke their word, again and again. Instead of giving the church a four week transition period, like we agreed, they terminated me immediately. Instead of letting me share the difficult news in person, like we agreed, they announced my abrupt resignation over a mass text (without telling me), giving everyone the impression that I was the one who decided to leave abruptly.

Instead of keeping my future plans quiet until after I was gone, like we agreed, the deacons humiliated me in front of everyone. On my last Sunday, the deacon chairman stood up front, under pious pretense, and announced to everyone that “Pastor Brandon feels led of the Lord to leave and plant a new church.”  I saw mouths agape in shock and eyes welling with tears.  Understandably, that news, framed like that, went over about as well as a father telling his family, “God told me to leave you and start a new family.” It was a deceitful move, calculated to make me a stench in the nostrils. I stood before the congregation and said nothing. It was the Lord’s day. It was not the time or place to defend myself.

Less than 24 hours after my final sermon, FBC leadership yanked my name down from the church sign, and the following Sunday they merged with a non-denominational church and pastor that had recently split from a Methodist church. They have since changed their name to Pathway Church. So much for remaining Baptist…or for keeping their word.

In the midst of a housing crisis, with my wife battling cancer, and with us facing crushing medical bills, with no income, these men changed their word and told us we had two weeks to move out. They then defrauded me of my last four weeks’ pay, and left me with an unexpected income gap, making it impossible to afford or even apply for housing.  A Christian family, who learned of our situation, offered us a temporary place to live.  I sold my car to make ends meet, and then held my wife as she sobbed.  I had tried my best to leave well, but the deacons simply wouldn’t leave well enough alone.

The righteous man keeps his word

These men want to be perceived as men of principle, but they changed their word, again and again, as it best served them.

I kept my word—to the deacon chairmen, and to First Baptist Freeport.  I did remain in my capacity as pastor for those final four weeks.  During that time, I made hospital visits, nursing home visits, preached a funeral, and ministered to a grieving family.  I was available to preach, to teach, and to counsel as needed. 

And I waited until after I completed those four weeks, before promoting my future plans to plant a new church.  I told just three members beforehand; two because of a close friendship, and one because, as a staff member, it directly impacted her job. 

I tried, in earnest, to ‘leave well,’ and for that, these men left me in the lurch. 

In 2 Timothy 4:14 the Apostle Paul says, “Alexander the metalworker did me a great deal of harm. The Lord will repay him for what he has done.”  But I don’t want the Lord to repay these men for what they’ve done.  I want them to repent and finish well.

It’s not too late…

In Psalm 15:4, the righteous man is the man who “swears to his own hurt, and does not change.”

Conclusion

Perhaps Prince Philip said it best—“The art of being a good guest is to know when to leave.”  After a year and a half of non-stop turmoil (read here), it was clear I had overstayed my welcome as the new pastor of First Baptist Freeport. If there was any doubt remaining, my last paycheck cleared that right up. When I opened the envelope, expecting full payment of my salary, I instead found a small honorarium marked “Guest Preacher”— just enough change to put gas in the tank and leave.

At the end of the day, the leadership of First Baptist Freeport did everything in their power to poison the “well” in my ‘leave well,” and they left my wife and I feeling like we’d been tossed in the well.