Some Men Should Never Be Pastors Again. Others Are Afraid to Become One.

After my interview with Justin Peters on whether Scripture contains a category for the permanent disqualification of pastors, a friend reached out to tell me that the podcast confirmed he should not become a pastor. Another friend told me he was apprehensive about becoming an elder. I also encountered a number of comments on social media expressing concern that I had promoted an extra-biblical and unrealistic standard.

I would like to address these concerns for two reasons.

First, there are many humble men who should be elders but are not because they hold themselves to a standard that is stricter than Scripture’s. This allows men who do not value Scripture’s standard an opportunity to fill a role they never should have occupied in the first place. Churches are destroyed, ministries are compromised, and lives are ruined. We need good men, and I do not want any of them held back for the wrong reasons.

Second, I want to be clear on where I stand regarding permanent disqualification. I do believe the category exists, but I believe it is more an inescapable prudential category than a strict biblical one.

Let us first start on what should be some common ground. Eldership is serious business and elders can obviously become disqualified. In 1 Timothy 5:22 elders are warned to “not lay hands upon anyone too hastily.” James warns “Let not many of you become teachers” because of a stricter judgement that applies to them (3:1).

Fielding a man who does not meet the qualifications found in 1 Timothy 3:1–7 and Titus 1:5–9, which are virtue patterns observed over time, has potentially disastrous consequences. I have written about the modern leadership crisis, including within the church, as a conflation of virtue metrics with performance arts and business principles. One would think 2020 would have caused self-reflection but sadly things seem to have accelerated along these lines do to mistrust in institutional standards and the rise of the internet influencer class and its low barrier for entry.

Today, the internet allows self-proclaimed pastors the ability to reinvent themselves overnight. But, this is a problem for the church. If the qualifications for eldership are punctiliar and not expected to be maintained as present realities (as the grammar in the relevant passages indicates), then one could hypothetically employ the worst abusers of God’s law on the basis of once allegedly meeting qualifications at an earlier point. I suppose Judas would deserve an apology as would many false teachers if this were the case. This is a ridiculous interpretation no one should adopt.

In addition to the obvious implications of failing to meet pastoral virtues is a general principle in scripture that certain sins can do permanent damage to one’s spiritual disposition. Paul uses the term “disqualified” hypothetically of himself in 1 Corinthians 9:27 to describe the verdict rendered for failing to exercise self-control. The Greek term adokimos refers to someone who has been proven inauthentic or found unfit after testing.

Justin Peters argued that sexual sin permanently disqualifies a pastor by appealing to Proverbs 6:32–33, which says, “The one who commits adultery with a woman is lacking sense; He who would destroy himself does it. Wounds and disgrace he will find, And his reproach will not be blotted out.” Yet, this passage is not talking about eldership, though it is written to future rulers. There is a principle here.

Though there is not an explicit verse teaching that pastors who violate their virtue requirements are disqualified in an irreversible sense, the view has been expressed throughout church history. The Apostolic Canons, which were not directly authored by the apostles but preserve the disciplinary practices of some churches in the east during the fourth or fifth centuries, state in Canon 25:

If a bishop, presbyter, or deacon be found guilty of fornication, perjury, or theft, let him be deposed.

Canon 28 goes on to say:

If any bishop, presbyter, or deacon, having been justly deposed upon open accusations, shall dare to meddle with any of the divine offices which had been entrusted to him, let him be altogether cut off from the Church.

St. Basil, likely commenting on this stated:

Laymen, when expelled from the place of the faithful, are from time to time restored to the rank whence they have fallen; but the deacon undergoes once for all the lasting penalty of deposition.

The Council of Nicaea (325) also advised that clergy who had willfully castrated themselves, lived with a woman who was neither a relative nor their wife, failed to confess disqualifying crimes before ordination that were later discovered, or denied the faith during persecution should be deposed.

This idea that some things simply cross a boundary where there is no coming back also made its way into the Protestant world. One of the clearest historical statements on permanent disqualification comes from the First Book of Discipline (1560) of the Church of Scotland, which teaches:

Should any minister be taken in any notable crime, such as whoredom, adultery, murder, manslaughter, perjury, teaching of heresy, or any that deserveth death or that may be a note of perpetual infamy, he ought to be deposed for ever. By heresy we mean pernicious doctrine, plainly taught and obstinately defended, against the foundation and principles of our faith. And such a crime we judge to deserve perpetual deposition from the ministry; for we know it to be most dangerous to commit the flock to a man infected with the pestilence of heresy.

What one finds when surveying church history on this matter is that some sins have been considered particularly egregious. Hospitality is a qualification for eldership, but a temporary lapse in manners has never been regarded as grounds for permanent disqualification. Murder, by contrast, has.

Throughout the Bible, different sins carry different civil penalties and reflect different depths of depravity, even though every sin is damning apart from the grace of God. Romans 1, for example, traces humanity’s descent into increasing depravity as the result of idolatry.

At some point, however, for the practical purpose of ecclesiastical administration, judgment calls must be made based upon general biblical principles and prudence. This is not something I feel the need to justify by establishing an explicit biblical rule for every conceivable circumstance because the need to bar men from ministry for certain grievous sins is implied in the nature of the office itself.

In the Institutes, John Calvin wrote that ministers should be “notorious for no fault that might impair their authority or bring disgrace upon the ministry.”

This reflects the damage done by placing a man in public ministry who has earned a reputation inconsistent with the qualifications for eldership. Many point to the requirement that an elder be “above reproach” as expressing this very principle. An elder should not be justifiably subject to accusations that undermine his office because, once that trust has been broken through serious misconduct, it is exceedingly difficult to restore.

Elders are charged with keeping watch over the souls of their congregation (Hebrews 13:17). That responsibility requires the highest degree of confidence from those under their care. An elder who entered the ministry for financial gain is in the wrong profession, and once that motive is exposed, his ability to shepherd faithfully is severely compromised. How would you feel if you discovered your spouse had married you only for your money? The relationship would be fundamentally damaged because trust had been violated.

The same principle applies in other situations. If an elder is caught committing adultery against his own wife, why should his congregation believe he will faithfully care for them? If a pastor, who is expected to be sober-minded and ready to minister at a moment’s notice, develops a pattern of drunkenness, it inevitably erodes confidence in his judgment and reliability.

By contrast, some sins involve less deliberation, do not reflect the same degree of moral corruption, and are quickly repented of. While they may still require rebuke and even temporary removal from ministry, they do not necessarily destroy the confidence that is essential for an elder to fulfill his office. One quarrel does not make someone quarrelsome just as one harsh word does not establish a pattern of harshness.

One of the things that concerns me is men who enter the ministry with no fear of God. James says that teachers “will incur a stricter judgment” (James 3:1). That warning has always sobered me before I ascend to a pulpit. A podcast is nothing compared to preaching, and pastors who think it is, or who think it is more important, need to resign because they do not take the weight of the office seriously. They are dancing on the edge of a cliff without realizing it.

No one should approach the office of pastor casually, but some men should approach it. The very fact that a man takes the office seriously is one indication that he may be the right person for it. Those who do not should be fearful. They will be held accountable for every word they teach and for what people do with that teaching.

The other thing that concerns me is men who refuse to enter the ministry because that fear leaves them paralyzed, even though they are otherwise qualified. Perhaps they think they do not know Hebrew or Greek well enough, or they have past sins they fear will resurface and ruin their ministry. These are healthy fears, but they should not become immobilizing ones. When they do, it is often because a man has given way to laziness, cowardice, or unbelief.

If you are that person, I want to speak to you directly.

The reason Scripture gives qualifications for eldership in the first place is so that the people around you can evaluate your character to see whether it matches the office. Not every Christian is an elder, nor is every Christian expected to be. Elders are ordinarily prepared over time before they are entrusted with the role. That means there will likely be defects that are identified and ironed out before they assume the office.

Consider John Mark. Paul initially refused to take him along because he had abandoned the mission (Acts 15:37–39). Yet later Paul wrote, “Pick up Mark and bring him with you, for he is useful to me for service” (2 Timothy 4:11).

Or consider Peter. Jesus spent years correcting the defects of all the disciples, but Peter especially stands out because of his denial of Christ (Luke 22:54–62). Yet after the resurrection, Jesus commissioned that same man, saying, “Shepherd My sheep” (John 21:15–17). Even after Peter had assumed his authoritative role as an apostle, Paul publicly rebuked him because his conduct gave the impression that Gentile Christians were second-class believers unless they adopted Jewish customs (Galatians 2:11–14).

Peter was as quick to repent as he was to put his foot in his mouth. His blind spots were correctable. His pattern of life demonstrated genuine virtue, even if he sometimes stumbled.

There are men whom God is calling to ministry who resist that calling because they convince themselves they still struggle with sin. Paul struggled with sin, so welcome to the club. The question is not whether you ever sin. The question is whether your life now exhibits the pattern described in the qualifications for elders (1 Timothy 3:1–7; Titus 1:5–9).

Sometimes we are thrust into responsibilities before we think we are ready because God has other plans. Moses protested that he could not speak. He spent forty years avoiding the very people God eventually sent him to confront. Yet, in God’s timing, He empowered Moses with the courage and ability necessary for the task.

The story of Thomas Becket, Archbishop of Canterbury under Henry II, is also illustrative. Henry assumed that his close friend, with whom he had shared many worldly pleasures, would overlook the king’s indiscretions if appointed archbishop. Instead, Becket took the office seriously. He confronted the king, defended the church’s authority, and ultimately lost his life for doing so. Like a man who unexpectedly discovers he is a father and embraces the responsibility, Becket became the man the office required, even though he had not previously lived as such.

The biblical pattern is not to thrust men into pastoral ministry overnight. The ordinary pattern is mentorship, testing, and preparation. Yet there are circumstances in which God’s providence demands a dramatic transformation.

My point is not to tell you that you possess the power to change yourself instantly. My point is that if you are haunted by a besetting sin or the memory of a particular sin, it is time to bring that burden to the Lord. Take responsibility. Seek help. Make war against your sin. Keep going. Take up your cross daily, however long the battle lasts. You are not trapped unless you believe the lie that you are and surrender to your own self-fulfilling prophecy.

Once you step into pastoral ministry, you bear responsibility for the souls entrusted to your care. That is a weight no man can carry apart from reliance upon the Chief Shepherd. The man you were before Christ is dead. The sin you battle after Christ belongs to the flesh, which wages war against the new man and compels you toward the very things you hate.

None of the men I have in mind who avoid pastoral ministry are doing so because they committed some particularly egregious post-conversion sin that permanently destroyed their reputation and rendered future ministry impossible. Rather, many of them simply lack confidence that they can persevere in holiness. If you remain convinced that you cannot walk in obedience, then no, you should not enter the ministry. But there is no good reason to remain in that condition. By the grace of God, Christian men grow. They mature. They overcome. And if you are running from a genuine calling, perhaps, like Jonah, God will remind you that you cannot outrun Him.

While there are disqualifying sins and sins so egregious that they permanently alter a man’s ability to ever be trusted in a pastoral capacity, there is also the power to overcome sin that God gives to every Christian as he submits himself to His will.

Ultimately, the calling of an elder is the duty God places upon a man whom He is preparing for the office. Some men are not being prepared, yet they take the role anyway in order to promote themselves, enrich themselves, or advance their own purposes. This is wicked.

But so is resisting the Lord’s preparation by denying His power to change lives, including your own. If God is calling you to shepherd His people, do not use your past as an excuse to distrust His grace or your present struggles as an excuse to reject His sanctifying work.

Christ will build His church regardless. The question is whether you will humbly submit to the work He is doing in you and faithfully answer His call.