Jamin Bradley

He entered the room with his Bible in hand, looking good in his black blazer and “Jesus is King” t-shirt. I had never met him before, but I knew who he was. I had been informed that he might show up at some point, despite my congregant’s explicit request that her abusive and manipulative ex not come.

“Can I talk to you in the back for a minute?” I asked as I pulled him away from his friend. We walked into the nursery to find some privacy.

“Actually, I’m glad you asked to talk to me because my friend and I are church-hoppers. We like to visit different churches and ask for spare Bibles, water, and anything else we can give to the homeless. Do you have any spare Bibles?” he asked.

“We don’t. We have a food bank at the end of today’s service to help with the homeless if they need it,” I responded as I looked for the nerve to get to the point. “Look, there are a lot of churches in Jackson, but this one doesn’t make sense for you. One of our longtime congregants asked you not to come, and you’re here anyway, which implies that you’re not here for the right reasons.”

“Are you asking me to leave?” he asked.

“Yes,” I answered. “Again, there are lots of other places for you to go. This one does not make sense.”

“I can’t believe this. I’ve never been asked to leave a church before,” he said as though deeply hurt, before suddenly becoming obstinate. “This is God’s house, and I can worship wherever I want. I drove 25 minutes to be here, and I will not be leaving until service is over.”

“This is private property, and I do not need to let you stay,” I added.

“That would look really bad for your church,” he said.

“Yes, and for you. I don’t want to do that, so I’m asking that you leave,” I asked again.

This back-and-forth went on for 20 minutes as he refused to leave. In the midst of the conversation, the conversation shifted.

“As I said, I’ll be staying until service is over. There’s a Bible study after service, right?” he asked.

“No,” I replied.

“Your webpage said there was,” he responded.

“We don’t have enough volunteers for it right now,” I said.

“Do you need volunteers?” he said with a raised eyebrow.

“No. Only members lead our Bible studies anyway,” I responded.

“And how do you become a member?” he asked with a smirk.

“Stop it,” I said.

“How do you become a member?” he pushed back.

“Through me,” I answered.

“Oh, I see,” he said, seeming to taking pleasure in the rise he was getting out of me.

Service was now about to start, and I was about to call the cops when I realized the commotion it would make. I’d have to start the service, then walk offstage when the police arrived to ask them to remove a guest before going back onstage.

The deal I made was that he could stay until the end of service, but then he was not to come back, or the police would be called immediately. He agreed to the terms.

Your church is your flock, and it is your job to care for them. In this particular case, I tried to play hardball on a topic that we pastors have been known to fail at. Instead of ignoring women about the men who manipulate and abuse them, I came in full force, hoping to make sure my church was a safe place for one of my sheep. A new situation was rising, and I was trying to squash it before it grew into something more difficult to control. 

This man was a charmer, and if I let him stay, I worried he would win people over with his manipulations as he had done before at my congregant’s last church. Indeed, he walked right out of our meeting and introduced himself to congregants in the lobby, firmly shaking their hands. “Hi, this is my first time here, but it will also be my last because your pastor has asked me to leave.” 

As the service began, I apologized to the woman affected by this situation for not being brave enough to call the police this time. I then ditched my original message and preached on the biblical concept of empowering and respecting women.

Pastors are shepherds. We must use wisdom to protect our flocks.