Why Church Leaders Keep Failing, and How Jesus Redefines Real Leadership
If you’ve ever been hurt by a church leader, I want to start by saying I’m sorry. I know how deep that wound can go. I’ve been there myself. I’ve watched it happen to others, and I’ve also lived it from the inside. For more than twenty years I served in churches, sometimes full-time and sometimes bivocational, and I know the beauty of what a healthy leader can bring. But I’ve also seen the other side—the controlling, empire-building side where protecting power mattered more than caring for people. I’ve experienced leaders who silenced questions and pushed away those who didn’t fall in line. So when we talk about why so many church leaders fail, I’m not talking as an outsider looking in. I’m speaking as someone who knows the cost of it personally.
The truth is, Jesus already told us what leadership in his kingdom should look like, but we’ve chosen to ignore him. In Matthew 20, James and John try to angle for the best seats in Jesus’ coming kingdom, positions of power and authority. Their mother even joins in to make the request. Jesus’ response is so important because he points out that the rulers of the world use their power to control, to push people down, and to protect their own position. And then he looks at his disciples and says, “It must not be this way with you.” Whoever wants to be great must become a servant. Whoever wants to be first must become the least. Even the Son of Man didn’t come to be served, but to serve and to give his life. That’s the core of it. Leadership in Jesus’ kingdom is never about building yourself up. It’s about lowering yourself so that others can be lifted. And when church leaders stop doing that—when they protect their platform more than their people—the damage is inevitable.
This is exactly what I’ve seen too often. Churches end up functioning more like the Roman Empire Jesus was critiquing than like the community of Jesus he was forming. The pastor becomes the star of the show, the one everything depends on. The church starts to feel more like an empire than a family. And if you raise a concern or pose a threat to that empire, you’re made to feel like the problem. I can’t tell you how many people I’ve met who left church entirely because their leaders acted more like CEOs or celebrities than like servants. If the health of an entire church rests on one personality, that’s not a Jesus-shaped church. That’s an empire.
But I also need to say this, because it’s part of the story too: many pastors are exhausted and hurting. The job is crushing. You’re expected to be theologian, counselor, CEO, fundraiser, event planner, visionary leader, and spiritual guide all rolled into one. You’re supposed to be available every hour of the day, always strong, never weak. And the statistics back it up. In 2023, almost half of pastors surveyed said they seriously considered quitting. Eighteen percent admitted they thought about self-harm. Two-thirds said they feel lonely. But less than one percent actually left their roles. That means most pastors are carrying heavy levels of discouragement and depression while staying in the same positions. That doesn’t excuse the harm that happens, but it does explain why so many leaders lose their way. They’re drowning, and they don’t know how to be honest about it because they feel like if they show weakness they’ll lose everything.
So what do we do with this? For me, it starts by naming the standard clearly. If leadership doesn’t look like service, if it doesn’t sound like humility, if it doesn’t lift people up, then it isn’t the way of Jesus. It’s that simple. And if you are in a church where leadership is controlling or abusive, it is okay to leave. I know how heavy that can feel, because you’ve probably been told that leaving means you’re backsliding or failing God. That’s not true. Walking away from a broken system that doesn’t look like Jesus is not abandoning God. In fact, sometimes it’s the most faithful thing you can do.
At the same time, we need to hold empathy with boundaries. Many pastors are isolated and burnt out. Ask your leaders how they are doing. See them as human. But don’t confuse compassion with enabling. Broken leaders need healing too, not unchecked power. Empathy without accountability just keeps the cycle going.
And maybe the bigger challenge for all of us is to imagine something different. The early church didn’t orbit around one superstar on a stage. They weren’t running organizations that looked like businesses. They were small communities, built around shared responsibility, where every person mattered. What if our churches today looked more like that? What if the lead pastor wasn’t the highest-paid person or the one making every decision? What if leaders actually structured their role around empowering others and lifting people up? That’s the vision Jesus painted in Matthew 20. That’s what true greatness looks like.
I really believe the church is at a moment of reckoning. The model we’ve built, where pastors are CEOs and churches are empires, has failed too many people. But Jesus gave us another way, a way where power kneels instead of controls, where authority is used for the sake of others, where leaders are the first to serve. When leaders actually embrace that posture, churches can be places of healing and growth again. And when they don’t, it’s okay to move on and find a place that does. Don’t confuse a broken church with a broken Christ. The way of Jesus is still good. And there are communities out there where leaders really do serve, where questions are welcomed, and where people—not platforms—are what matter most.
