Pastoring a church is like driving a bus.

You stop; you go. People get on; people get off.  When you pull up to the bus stop, people enter and people exit. Coming and going is not unusual. It’s the expectation of every bus driver. It’s the rhythm of driving the bus day after day, week after week — every month and year –– the makings of a career. Movement happens.

The wheels on the bus go round and round
… the doors on the bus go open and shut
… the people on the bus get off and on …

We know the song, permanently planted in our brains. However, we also know not everybody enters and exits the same way. Some do it well. Others, well, not so well.

So, let’s talk about the good, the bad, and the ugly, but let’s do it in reverse (pun intended).

The Ugly

Despite the fact the bus is a church moving for and of the sake of Christ, not everyone remembers this when it’s time to exit the bus, especially when they’re mad. The only thing uglier than ugly anger is ugly self-righteous anger. When a congregant kicks open the rear emergency exit while the bus is at full speed, and jumps out –– taking as many others as possible –– it’s ugly. When a passenger wrestles with the driver for control of the steering wheel, the crash into the telephone pole is tragic. When dissention causes an angry member to detonate a bomb inside a moving bus, it’s catastrophic. All these real-life church metaphors are bloody. They’re a mess.

The bus comes to a screeching stop. So does the traffic. What’s to like about bodies and blame flying everywhere? The driver postpones the route, forced, in full view of the local community, to clean up the mess.

How about the rider who wants their own bus after long spells of coveting the driver’s seat. Unbeknownst to the driver, they recruit other passengers and set the plan. Covertly, they spread the word, and on cue, they exit the bus together, believing the new bus will be so much better. It is, until it isn’t, for the Bus Manual clearly warns, “Those who plow evil and those who sow trouble reap it” (Job 4:8).

Nobody wins when churches get ugly. Splits impact generations, lasting decades. Damaged members never ride the bus again. Some never trust the bus again. Some carry their bus wounds into eternity.

Worse off, what if it could’ve been reconciled?  Did it have to be this way?

The Bad

Leaving a church is never easy, for it’s hard to do things the righteous way — personally, biblically, and authentically.  Because it’s so hard, most people leave bad. Some will sneak out the exit furthest from the driver, hoping they don’t make eye contact. Some exit the bus with all kinds of fabrications, disguising their own personal hard-to-admit realities. Some skip the difficulty of face-to-face conversations — a 2,000-year-old staple of the local church — and send an email or a text. Some post about their new bus on social media, knowing the people on the former bus will see it … and what? … send a heart emoji even though a part of their real heart has been wounded by other’s stealth escape.

“I didn’t want to cause any drama. I thought it best to just slide out and not make a scene. I don’t want to disappoint or hurt anybody,” says the one who forgot a church is a place where messy is expected, and the narrow path is the hard path, and the hard path is always the best path.

Real people of faith do hard stuff.

The Good

The bus comes to a routine stop. Some get on and some get off. There is a family getting off. They collect their belongings, take a final look around, and exit through the front door.  However, on their way out, they place their hand on the driver’s shoulder and ask him or her, if they can say farewell. The driver unbuckles the seatbelt and stands up, embracing them and saying, with emotion, “May God go with you and bless not only you, but where you are going. You have been dear to us and we will miss you.”

Righteous exits take time, but while choosing to do it the right way may cost you time up front, it’ll save you years down the road.

“We are so grateful for all you’ve done for our family,” he says. “We sense the Lord is asking us to trust Him as He leads us elsewhere, and your blessing means the world to us.”

“May I pray for you and send you with His blessing?”

“Oh, would you?” she says, “That will mean so much to us. We will always love you.”

“And we will always love you.”

Meanwhile, the rest of the bus cannot move forward because the driver and the departing are embracing, taking a longer-than-normal stop. However, the riders do not mind for they are watching the Kingdom of God at its best, a seldom seen exchange! They are experiencing authenticity, sincerity, and folks willing to do the hard thing because they are not willing to do it any way other way than the righteous way.

Righteous exits take time, but while choosing to do it the right way may cost you time up front, it’ll save you years down the road.

As the righteous step off the bus with moist eyes, the driver buckles up and looks up at one of those jumbo rearview mirrors where you can see every angle of the bus. The driver sees a congregation ready to move forward, and trust God –– a Father who loves, absolutely loves, righteous transactions.

Finally, those who trust Jesus along the journey and depart from the bus to their eternal reward, represent the best of the good. The Manual clearly states this: “Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his faithful servants” (Psalms 115:16). After all, this is always the goal of the driver and the passengers: care for all the passengers until they arrive at the Gates of Eternal Life, a 5-star destination, never less than perfect.

What to Do

So, while you’re at it, faithful pastor, pull the bus over, take a break, and know this:

Exit happens. Be comforted by the knowledge you’re not alone. Lots of fellow drivers know exactly how it feels. Most importantly, Jesus knows, for as the Gospels tells us, He’s experienced His God-sized share of pain and rejection (John 1:11).

Seek healing for the ugly. Jesus heals broken stuff, including your heart, for no matter how bad you got it, He was and is treated worse. However, He overcame, He overcomes. Because so, Jesus heals.

Give grace to the bad. In the same way the Lord gives us mercy for our weak brokenness, give them the mercy you’ve received. Don’t give as the world gives. Give as He gives. Often, we take comfort by making Jesus’ words from the cross our words: “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing” (Luke 23:34). Good chance they really don’t!

Cherish the good. Sweet are the memories of righteous proceedings. When you see God in others, know you’ve received grace. It’s always a gift. Store those recollections in a precious place in your heart.

Examine your part. Rarely does the pastor escape an episode of receiving human brokenness without some element of responsibility. Relationships work this way. Ask the Lord to search your heart, and when He does, obey whatever He tells you to do — everything from repenting to staying still. He’s cheering for you to be well, and nothing is more well than to be free of offense.

Love them in both directions. Every bus driver loves the ones who get on, but the righteous driver must also love the ones who exit. Ask God to help you treat them as He treats you –– He loves you coming and going. His love never changes; His goodness always chases you.

So, keep your seat, fire up that engine, and hold on for dear life. God is working in you, and God is working in some folks who are counting on you to keep traveling His route. Faithfully. Daily. In His strength.

Tomorrow brings new directions, new passengers, new adventures. Dedicate your bus to him. Go where He leads you. Hold on to the keys, for His keys are special. His keys conquer all. Keep your eyes on the road where you’ll see Him. He’s the One out front, leading you for His Name’s sake, His Good Name’s sake.

Vroom, vroom.