{today}
Dear First Evan,
On Sunday, March 7, in the course of preaching in the second service, I did something rash. I said I’d written a resignation letter. That spontaneous confession wasn’t an example of good transparency. It created tension and anxiety. Furthermore, I sent the letter to our Session elders that afternoon, blindsiding brothers I love, putting them in an awful spot.
It wasn’t my finest hour in eighteen years of pastoral ministry at First Evan.
I may have given you the impression that First Evan is a hard place to minister, full of critics. Forgive me for that. The great majority of First Evaners are people easily edified, love the Lord and His Word, and love one another well. It’s a privilege to pastor here, and affirmation abounds.
I am choosing to resign in order to seek new ministry. I’ve made this awkward, but I have been considering it for a while. I am not being run off. The Session never sought my resignation. I have enjoyed their support, friendship, brotherhood, and continual encouragement. Prior to the Session meeting tonight, I made the decision to resign. I withdrew my request of the Session to help me determine if I am the leader for First Evan moving forward and submitted my resignation of my own accord. I believe before the Lord it is the right decision for me and my family.
Back in October, Lynn and I sensed that a kind of hourglass had turned over and we were into our last sands of time at First Evan. We didn’t know what to do about that exactly. I reached out to friends local and in other places for counsel. I thought maybe I could keep going here for years to come and should just push through, but I found that prospect more draining than energizing.
In short, I need a change. There are always “push” and “pull” factors in assessing that. Push factors are problems. Pull factors are possibilities. When I thought about new ministry, it energized me. And yet, I wondered: Am I just trying to run from problems? Spending eighteen years in one pastorate says I’m not a runner from problems (credit friends’ counsel for helping me see that). But I felt like the marathoner “hitting the wall” before the last few miles of his course.
I’m not in moral failure or theological crisis or vocational doubt. But I do need to learn to not internalize so much if I’m going to minister to the people of God with greater health.
What if I took a leave of absence, got help, and returned? That’s a hopeful idea, and the outpouring of love and support from you last week made me seriously consider it. But it puts the church in limbo and, as stated already, I’ve known I need to make a change. My comments about resignation—inserting that into a sermon, then roping the Session into it—was final confirmation for me.
Thank you for the immense outpouring of support this last week. Thank you for the time you have taken to pray. I’ve read every text and email you’ve sent me, every card and letter, and I couldn’t get through them without tears. Thank you for blessing and believing in me. I love First Evan.
Let me remind you of how I concluded the message Sunday, March 7: that Jesus doesn’t hold anything over us. He loves us in such a way that covers all our faults, mistakes, sins, and shame. Whatever else you remember about my ministry among you, remember that.
This Sunday, March 21, I’ll preach a farewell message in both services. Pray for my family and me about what’s next for us. You’ve been so generous in your encouragements of us for so long.
May the glory of the Lord cover First Evan, as waters cover the sea.
Grace and peace to all,
