The Pain of Leadership, Part 2:

Elders Are Not Representatives

One of the reasons church leadership becomes so painful is that many people misunderstand what elders are called to do.

In many churches, elders are treated as representatives. They are elected by the congregation, so it is easy to assume that their job is to represent the views, concerns, preferences, and frustrations of the people who elected them. In that model, the elder becomes something like a member of the House of Representatives. The congregation has concerns. The pastors have authority. The elders carry the concerns of the people to the pastors and make sure the pastors do not go too far.

That model may feel natural to those of us who live in a representative democracy (yes, technically a democratic republic). But it is not the biblical model of eldership.

Elders are not called to represent factions within the church. They are not elected to carry preferences into the room. They are not chosen to function as a complaint channel between the congregation and the pastors. They are called to shepherd the spiritual health of the congregation.

That difference matters.

When elders see themselves as representatives, the church easily becomes divided into groups. The pastors become one group. The elders become another. The congregation becomes another. Then leadership becomes negotiation among competing interests rather than discernment before God.

In that environment, people begin to look for someone who will “speak for them.” A person who is upset with the pastor finds an elder who will carry the concern. A person who dislikes a change looks for someone on session who will oppose it. A person who does not want to have a direct and difficult conversation brings the pain to an elder and hopes the elder will do something with it.

That may feel relationally safer in the short term, but it creates triangles. Instead of one person speaking directly and faithfully to another, a third person is pulled into the anxiety. The elder is then pressured to carry pain that belongs to someone else, and the Biblical process in Matthew 18 is abandoned.

That is not shepherding. It is triangulation.

This does not mean that elders should refuse to listen. Of course elders should listen. Good shepherds know the sheep. They pay attention to concerns, fears, hopes, and wounds within the congregation. They do not dismiss people as complainers simply because they are upset.

But listening is not the same thing as representing.

An elder can listen to someone’s frustration without becoming the mouthpiece (or megaphone!) for that frustration. An elder can care deeply about a person’s pain without agreeing to carry that pain into the leadership room as a political demand. An elder can help someone discern what is spiritually healthy without promising to vote the way that person wants.

That distinction is crucial.

The work of an elder is not to ask, “What do my people want me to say?”

The work of an elder is to ask, “What is Christ calling us to discern for the spiritual health and mission of this congregation?”

Those are very different questions.

The first question assumes that the elder belongs to a constituency. The second assumes that the elder belongs to Christ.

A related misunderstanding happens when people treat elders and pastors as if they occupy opposing roles. In this view, pastors are the religious professionals who propose things, and elders are the review board that approves, rejects, or restrains them. Sometimes elders even come to see themselves this way. They believe their job is to keep the pastor accountable on behalf of the congregation.

There is a place for accountability. Pastors are not above correction. Pastors can be wrong, unwise, immature, or spiritually unhealthy. Elders must be willing to speak honestly when that happens.

But if the relationship between elders and pastors is framed as supervision, something has gone wrong.

In Scripture, the distinction of "elder" and "pastor" in the modern sense doesn't exist. Pastors are elders, and elders are pastors. They may not all preach. They may not all administer the sacraments. They may not all be trained in the same way or called to the same function. But they share in the spiritual care, oversight, teaching, and discernment of the congregation.

This means elders and pastors are not supposed to be opposing parties. They are supposed to be co-shepherds.

They are not meant to sit across from one another as management and labor, board and employee, people and clergy, or congregation and pastor. They are meant to sit together under Christ in mutual submission, seeking the mind of Christ for the good of the church.

When this is understood, the leadership room changes.

The question is no longer, “What does the pastor want, and what does the congregation want?”

The question becomes, “What is faithful?”

That does not make decisions easy. In fact, it may make them more difficult. Faithfulness rarely gives leaders permission to hide behind preference, popularity, or personal loyalty. It forces everyone in the room to submit their own desires to something greater.

This is why spiritual authority is so important and so misunderstood.

In our cultural moment, authority is often viewed with suspicion. Sometimes that suspicion is justified. Authority has been abused in churches. Leaders have manipulated, controlled, silenced, and protected themselves at the expense of the vulnerable. Any discussion of spiritual authority must take that seriously.

But the abuse of authority does not eliminate the need for the healthy exercise of authority.

Healthy spiritual authority is not domination. It is not control. It is not the right to get one’s way. It is a form of responsibility before God for the care of God’s people.

Elders do not have authority so that they can win arguments. They have authority so that they can serve the spiritual health of the congregation.

That means elders must sometimes tell people what they do not want to hear. They must sometimes disappoint friends. They must sometimes refuse to carry grievances. They must sometimes ask whether a beloved ministry is still bearing fruit. They must sometimes ask whether a gifted person is spiritually ready for leadership. They must sometimes help a congregation face realities it would rather avoid.

That is painful work.

It is also pastoral work.

If elders are treated as representatives, they will usually be rewarded for keeping people happy. If they are formed as shepherds, they will learn to seek what is faithful, even when it is costly.

The church does not need elders who merely count votes, carry complaints, or protect preferences. The church needs elders who can discern. The church needs elders who can pray, listen, evaluate, encourage, correct, and lead. The church needs elders who understand that they are not representatives of a constituency but shepherds under Christ.

That shift will not remove the pain of leadership.

But it will help leaders understand what the pain is for.