ENDORSEMENTS
You read a good book once. A great book a few times. But a remarkable book becomes an annual pilgrimage that feeds your soul, strengthens your call and clarifies your focus. Greg has written a remarkable little book. Pastors, elders, youth leaders, parents and students should bless themselves by reading Firing Jesus.
—Derwin L. Gray, Lead Pastor, Transformation Church, Charlotte, NC
Firing Jesus highlights exactly why Jesus is described in the Bible as a “stumbling stone” and a “rock of offense”—He’s nothing like the attentive butler and nice-guy genie He’s often been reduced into in a culture that’s in love with spirituality but at war with the “exclusivity” of Jesus. Greg Stier is passionate about Jesus and the person-to-person spread of His gospel, and Firing Jesus vividly re-imagines how that “rock of offense” would turn the tables on the complacent power structures inherent in many of today’s churches. If you’re a youth worker, this is a must-read.
—Rick Lawrence, Executive Editor, GROUP Magazine Author of Jesus-Centered Youth Ministry
Greg Stier is a prolific soul winner who without a compromise speaks truth to the hearts of saved and unsaved. This book forces you to look inside yourself, but please don’t just look if you feel the voice of God speaking to you to change. PLEASE change!
—Reggie Dabbs, Motivational Youth Speaker
Firing Jesus has the capacity to radically change the way everyone looks at teenagers. I pray that more youth leaders will encourage evangelism as a lifestyle, not a thing-you-do-once-a-year-on-a-mission-trip-or-after-a-youth-conference. This book is a vehicle to drive people to that kind of passionate faith.
—Katie Payne, Student
Firing Jesus
Copyright © 2012 by Dare 2 Share Ministries, Inc.
All rights reserved.
A D2S Publishing book
All scripture quotations, unless otherwise indicated, are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV®. Copyright ©1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com The “NIV” and “New International Version” are trademarks registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office by Biblica, Inc.™
This is a work of fiction. With the exception of known historical characters, all characters are the product of the author’s imagination.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without prior permission of the publisher.
Editor: Jane Dratz
Stier, Greg.
Firing Jesus / by Greg Stier.
ISBN: 978-0-9857352-1-0
To all the youth leaders who put
their jobs on the line every day
by acting like Jesus.
Three-and-a-half months ago JC Davidson was hired as the youth leader at Spring Valley Church. But his unorthodox approach to youth ministry has raised more than a few eyebrows and stirred up controversy. An emergency meeting is called to force the issue of whether he should stay or be let go. The reactions, political maneuvering and plot twists that ensue will keep you riveted and get you thinking, “Could this happen at my church?”
Firing Jesus takes you on an intriguing imaginary journey to explore how Jesus might lead as a youth pastor in the 21st Century…and how the church would likely respond.
Will he make the cut or get crucified? The answer may surprise you.
“Sorry this meeting was so last minute, guys,” Pastor Ryan Coleman apologized as he fumbled with his keys on the front doorstep of Spring Valley Community Church. Three other members of the elder board clustered around him on the chilly March evening. The church secretary, a petite, spry older lady, hurried up the walk to join them, emerging silently from the now ominously dark parking lot.
“No problem,” assured Scott West. “Your message sounded urgent and we don’t get too many emergency elder meetings around here.”
“It is urgent,” Pastor Ryan affirmed. “It’s very urgent.”
“It better be,” joked Pete Fisher. “I had to leave the fire station even though it was on fire.”
All of them laughed, though even a casual observer could see that Ryan’s and Scott’s efforts to join in the humor were clearly forced. Together they made their way into the church’s office area where Pastor Ryan guided them into the smallest conference room.
“I thought you were working tonight, Pete,” commented Ryan.
“Yeah, there was a mix up. But I’m glad of it, because I wouldn’t want to miss this meeting. Saw it on my iPhone,” Pete responded, holding it up in his large, calloused hands with a smile. “So what’s the big emergency?”
“I’ll tell everyone in just a few minutes. Let’s all get situated, make sure everyone who is gonna show up, shows up, and then I’ll explain what’s happening.”
Pete had the distinct feeling that Ryan didn’t expect—or want—him to be there. This made him all the more eager to find out what was going on.
As they sat waiting for others to arrive, Sam Brooke wondered to himself why they were meeting in the small conference room with only five metal chairs drawn around the small, circular table. After all, there were currently a total of seven elders on the church’s board, counting the senior pastor and executive pastor. Then with the non-voting church secretary who took the minutes added into the mix, meetings typically topped out at eight. But before he asked the question, Sam thought to himself that there was probably some legitimate reason they couldn’t meet in their usual room. After all, more chairs could be squeezed in around the little table. He remained silent.
That was Sam. He liked to give people the benefit of the doubt. He had only been an elder at the church for two years and had a reputation for being traditional, wise and, well, quiet. He didn’t speak much, but when he did, he spoke with a sense of authority. Not from a loud voice, but from a life that screamed a steady, stalwart consistency. He had lost his wife to cancer three years earlier and had weathered that storm with grace. He was a kind soul who moved with a gentle strength around the church. Kids would flock to him on Sunday morning for their free piece of candy—if they quoted a Bible verse, of course. Though quiet, no elder meeting was ever complete without Sam’s unassuming wisdom and practical insights stirred into the mix.
On the other side of the decibel scale was Scott West. He was loud and proud—proud of his charter member status in the church, proud of his successful church construction business, proud of his position as chairman of the elder board, proud of his ability to make things happen. Although he and the senior pastor often clashed, he usually got the best of it. He knew the church constitution better than the Bible, and he knew the Bible better than most. It was his influence that got Ryan Coleman hired in the first place.
Ryan had not been the elder board’s first choice as the executive pastor. Most of the guys still thought he was too young—if 30 is young—and needed some more ministry experience. Sure, he had been a youth pastor for four years out of seminary, but that seemed hardly enough experience to be the EP of a church of 500. But Scott saw in him what he called “a hunger to learn,” which would be important when Ryan took the reins of leadership once Senior Pastor Jonathon Griffith eventually moved on—which Scott intended to make certain was only a matter of time. In reality, Ryan’s “hunger to learn” was really just a moldable nature that Scott “the potter” took advantage of to implement his own agenda at the church.
Scott was not an alpha dog nearly as much as he was an alpha wolf. When he howled the dogs heeled, the cats hid and most of the other elders peed a little in their pants.
One of the few elders who didn’t make lemonade was Pete Fisher. He was equal parts funny and fearless. In his late thirties, he had been a volunteer in the youth ministry for the last five years. He was what some would call an “advocate” for youth ministry on the elder board. A few months back when it was time to find a new youth leader, he’d strongly advocated hiring the current youth guy, JC Davidson. Pete was the one who regularly brought prayer requests from the youth ministry to the bi-weekly elders meeting. If the youth group had to sell burritos to raise money for their annual mission trip to Haiti, Pete brought the salsa, forks and cash. He’d end up buying ten, himself—every time. As a firefighter he was busy when he was busy and free when he was free. He used his free time to mentor teenagers in the group. His shift had got cut short that day because of a scheduling mix up so he, much to Ryan’s surprise, was able to make the emergency meeting.
Completing the not-so-complete gathering was Agnes, the sometimes crotchety but always faithful church secretary—she refused the title “executive assistant.” She had been on staff long enough to see the rise and fall of the Fax machine. Nobody really knew her age, but she had to be pushing seventy-five. She had, as she loved to remind everyone, lived through the tenure of four pastors at Spring Valley Community Church, including the founding pastor.
Scott pulled Ryan out into the hall and was talking quietly and intensely about something as Agnes and Pete chatted, while Sam listened and smiled.
Finally, Scott and Ryan came back into the room, settling noisily into their chairs as Ryan declared, “Well, let’s get this meeting started.”
Agnes interrupted, “Well, Pastor Griffith isn’t here yet.”
“Agnes,” Scott said drily, “thanks for reminding us of the obvious, but Article 3, Section 24 of the church bylaws states that emergency meetings can be held with or without the pastor, as long as he’s received the same notification about it as the rest of the elder board.” Turning to Ryan he asked, “Didn’t you send that same email you sent to the entire elder board to Pastor Griffith, as well?”
“I sure did,” Ryan affirmed.
Sam uncharacteristically piped in, “That email was sent two hours ago. What did he say when you called him?”
“Um…,” Ryan stumbled, “I couldn’t get a hold of him.” This surprised nobody. Pastor Griffith had a habit of turning his phone off on Sunday afternoons for his post-sermon nap.
“You got a call and an email?” asked Pete. “I just got an email and would have missed that if I didn’t have my new iPhone,” He raised it again, but this time not jokingly.
Ryan suddenly turned red with embarrassment. “Sorry, Pete, I must have forgotten to call you.”
Pete was silent, a something’s-not-right feeling rising up in his spaghetti-filled gut.
Elder Jim Simpson’s bulky frame suddenly filled the doorway of the small meeting room.
“Let me grab one more chair,” Ryan said, jumping up quickly, grateful for the distraction from the awkwardness surrounding Pete’s question.
Fifty-six year old Jim Simpson, an account manager for a large insurance company, was a dependable member of the Scott/Ryan voting block on the church board. Jim rarely deviated from Scott’s and Ryan’s viewpoint on all matters church related. His arrival reassured Ryan that things were still well under control, despite the unanticipated appearance of Pete Fisher at the quickly called meeting.
“Well, regardless of the pastor’s naptime and disregard of an emergency email, we have a quorum, so this meeting must go on,” interrupted Scott.
“I don’t feel comfortable proceeding until we get a hold of him,” Sam quietly, yet firmly, countered.
But before an elder fight could break out, they heard the distinctive squeak of the front church door and the rapid footfalls of Pastor Griffith coming down the hallway.
Jonathan Griffith was forty-seven years old. He had been the pastor at Spring Valley for six years now, coming from a large church in California that he had planted earlier in his ministry career. He’d left it only when he’d felt he’d taken the plant as far as it could grow under his leadership. Across his years of ministry he had learned that he was best as an entrepreneurial innovator. He’d sensed in his heart that God was prompting him to turn it over to someone who had a different gift set and could, in his words, “take it to the next level.”
What he’d anticipated when he accepted the position at Spring Valley was a lower stress opportunity to rejuvenate an existing church, sort of an entrepreneurial infusion into an existing community of believers without all the outsized demands that came with a startup church plant—like drafting a church constitution or dealing with zoning issues and building programs.