How I Got Here Part 2: The First Youth and Associate Pastor Position
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| The New Youth Room Under Construction |
At one of those events, a pastor from a Milwaukee Assembly of God church attended with his youth group. It was a time of transition for him, and it was there that I was asked if I would consider becoming a youth pastor at his church. Shortly thereafter, I accepted the position and began as youth and associate pastor at the church in February of 1996, just a few months after God got my attention through an explosion (see previous blog).
Starting as a youth pastor did not come with a large youth group, and it certainly did not come with a livable income. In fact, there was zero income for at least a year, which is why I continued to work as a music buyer at Something More Christian Bookstore. We had approximately 12 students, and the worship team consisted of a few teen musicians led by the pastor’s wife. I remember my first sermon; as robust as I thought it was, it struggled to last even 10 minutes.
Fast forward a year or two, and I transitioned from receiving no pay to getting part-time compensation, and eventually, after 2 or 3 years, I started receiving a full-time salary. Throughout it all, I can say without boasting that I gave it my all. As a single guy, I invested all my time into this program, planning monthly activities, weekly meetings, and many WWE/Boxing pay-per-views at my house.
By the time we began winding down in 2003, God had grown the youth group to 85 students, with an additional 25 in our college-age group. With that many teens coming from the community, we had to have a nursery program for our youth group because of some teen moms attending. God was doing a great thing. We discovered that some of these students didn’t want to leave when they got older, so we started a program for them. I remember those numbers vividly because a pastor from an A/G church in Germantown, WI, came to scout one of my teens to be his youth pastor. After that visit, though, I was asked if I would consider being their youth pastor, which I turned down. I loved my church and the group of teens so much that I had no desire to go anywhere else.
When I started in this position, I was told, “What you raise is what you have for the youth group.” A few years down the road, we began working Milwaukee Brewers games, taking a percentage from our concession stand sales each time. This kept our program well-funded, thanks to a dedicated group of teens and college students who pitched in at each game. I still remember riding the elevator many times with Mr. Baseball, Bob Uecker, as I would run the evening deposit to its appropriate place.
However, as we approached 2002, I noticed a TBN (Trinity Broadcast Network) mentality creeping into the church. So much so that at one point, our church's worship team took a field trip to a large church in Chicago, only to be told afterward that our worship team must dress and look like theirs. They wore black every week, and the men donned suits while the women wore dresses. We were losing touch with who we were while trying to mimic this large megachurch that was doing great work in their own right. I was not okay with this because I led worship most of the time and didn’t understand why we were trying to imitate them. You can't mimic an equation to obtain God's blessing.
During this period, our church decided to purchase a large property in a neighboring city. This was a tough financial decision, given that it was a $1.5 million purchase with fewer than 100 people in the church. I was not on board, but I remembered the conferences I attended where staff pastors were taught that even if you disagree with a decision made by the leadership, you must publicly make it appear to be the best idea since sliced bread. So, I went along with it, even though there were many rumblings behind the scenes. Admittedly, I became so disheartened with the direction that when I would invite someone to church, I would suggest they attend the A/G church in the neighboring city of Oak Creek.
It was time to move into the new building in late spring of 2003, and I was a newlywed. I was told I absolutely could not go on my one-year anniversary because that would be moving day. That fell on deaf ears, and I went on my anniversary trip with my bride anyway.
Upon my return, I was informed where my office would be in the new building. It was a nice room, but there was one problem: it only contained my boxes, with no bookshelves, desk, or anything else. I inquired about this since the secretary had received a new desk and the pastor had his setup as well. I was told, “Your old desk won’t fit so go find a table or something you can use and bring it into your office." Perplexed and let down, I left for the day, picked up my wife, and we headed to Home Depot in Glendale, where I bought two bookshelves with my own money. I then stopped at Staples to buy my own desk. I returned to the office, assembled everything, and was up and running, with no offer of reimbursement.
I carried on with the mentality that I was there for the teens and kids and would simply stay in my lane. Looking back, I realize that with that attitude, I should have left, but I loved it too much to do so.
Entering this new building, I thought it would be great to finally have our own youth room since we didn’t have one in our old location. Alas, this building was purchased without having a youth room in mind. Thanks to a couple of teens, we tore down a wall and created a large youth room. We received significant donations for the youth program and obtained a new sound system, projection TVs for PowerPoint, latest computer and stage lighting. This youth room became a dream space where we hosted concerts as well.
In the fall of 2003, I was invited to attend a board meeting—the first one I was allowed to attend since coming on staff in February of 1996. Judging by the tensions in the room, I could tell this was not going to end well for me. After some time, I was informed that the leadership felt like I was starting my own church, given the size of our youth group and college program. This could not have been further from the truth; I had zero desire to be a lead pastor. When I attempted to share my side of the story, the pastor abruptly interrupted and said, “You will not speak until we allow you to do so!” This was the definitive moment I knew I was going to resign. The board made the decision that youth group had to meet on Wednesday nights from then on out. Tuesday nights had worked best because it was a non-sports night. Within two weeks of this decision, our youth group dwindled to about 12 students again. Plus, being in a different neighborhood made it hard for teens to attend when they had previously been able to walk to the church.
Shortly after this difficult meeting, I was informed that the pastor would no longer be on staff due to some indiscretions. I was taken for a ride to learn what had happened and how that Sunday was going to play out. The former pastor told me during that car ride how much he appreciated me, what great things I had done, and that he was sorry it had come to this moment.
That Sunday rolled around, and I tried to go to my office. A friend of that family, who was also a pastor, asked me not to come into the building (the rectory of the old Catholic Church) because the team was meeting with the old pastor. So, I went into the sanctuary and waited for the service to begin. A district official from the Assemblies of God was present to explain what had happened and then shared a message. He talked to me a bit about a new church plant happening in Waupaca. Tracy and I went home that afternoon, unsure of what to do. I received several accusatory phone calls stating that I was the one who triggered all of this by leaving a detailed letter. Interestingly, at 29 years old, I would have had to be a profound prophet to detail the events mentioned in that letter. Nonetheless, I found myself in a place of hatred, and each day became a grueling process. I came in, stayed in my office, conducted youth group, and went home. I quickly learned that when churches in turmoil ask a staff pastor to become the interim pastor, they don’t really mean it. What they are really asking for is someone to preach on Sundays, and that's it.
We had a board meeting that night, and the pastor who had told me I could not come into my office was chairing that meeting. I entered the meeting, sat down, and was immediately asked to leave. Again, interim pastor does not always mean interim pastor. So, I left, stopped at Kopp’s for an ice cream, and went home. Desperate times call for desperate measures, and ice cream is a go-to for me.
The following Sunday, we had a new interim pastor who was a longtime dear friend of my family. After church, we went out to eat at Perkins on Layton Ave., where he asked Tracy and me what our plans were now, as he clearly saw that I was not fired, but I was certainly not welcome there any longer. I told him that despite everything I had been through, I loved that church and many of its people and planned to submit my resume for the senior pastor position. He looked at me while I was eating my bread bowl salad and said, “Bob, they don’t want you here.” I appreciated having a friend who was willing to be honest, but we left that lunch feeling let down, hurt, and deflated. How could a place to which I had given so much—and which had seen a group of teens and young adults larger than the church itself—simply kick someone to the curb? There are many lessons here that perhaps I shall save for another blog.
Within days, I received offers to serve as the youth pastor at Life Church in Germantown and at my old youth pastor’s church in Olathe, KS. There was also a small upstart church in Waupaca, WI, called Radiant Fellowship that wanted Tracy and me. We chose Radiant Fellowship…and everything was sunshine and rainbows… but then…. (to be continued).
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