Elders VS Board Members
And Why Pastor’s Need Elders
In response to my post yesterday, I’ve had a flood of pastors hit me up in the DMs, most of them whispering for help like prisoners tapping SOS on the pipes of their cells.
“Bro, I need you to sit on my board/committee.”
“How do I convince the board that I need to be paid more? My wife and I are making peanuts—we sold our house just to afford to lead this church.”
[Immediately facepalms into next dimension]
I have friends who mortgaged their house to fund their record label—real, skin-in-the-game, giant leaps of faith because they actually believed in something bigger than themselves. They saw what God was doing in their community, and they bet the house on it—literally. People only see the public success now; they never see the private sacrifice that made it possible.
Same with pastors.
It’s the living-in-the-church-office years. It’s the eating off paper plates because the church needed chairs more than we needed a couch. It’s my parents deciding to put all three of us in private school while renting a house for 20 yearsbecause they took one look at the public school system and noped out permanently.
(And, hold up, tangent incoming—this is too good to skip.)
Tennessee just passed school choice state-wide. That means every family now gets $10K per child to put toward the school of their choice. Total game-changer for my brother-in-law, who’s been grinding to keep two kids in private school.
And while we’re at it—your kids aren’t missionaries. They’re idiot saplings who need to be tied to the iron rod of discipleship before they start growing in whatever direction the cultural wind happens to be blowing that day.
Anyway, back to pastors and their tragic financial masochism.
The Pay Problem: Self-Inflicted Wounds
Pastors will always underpay themselves because they have good hearts—which is noble, but also deeply stupid.
My dad didn’t pay himself properly for 20 years. When his friends finally found out what he was making, they absolutely lit him up. But he did it because he wanted to hire more staff at the church. That’s who he is—a blue-collar town guy who thinks, If I’ve got a roof over my head and a car that runs, life is good.
When I found out what he was making?
I was angry. Because bro needs a retirement.
And that’s the thing—I know pastors underpay themselves. They do it because they feel bad taking money from the church. And, sure, that’s coming from a good place—you should never forget that you’re eating from the altar. My dad used to check in on me to make sure I was tithing off my honorariums.
“You had better not eat from the altar and rob God at the same time.”
Sobering.
Even the priests tithed—to the high priest. I know a lead pastor who tithes directly to his pastor—which, honestly, there’s probably something in that.
Point is: Taking money from people who are obeying God and practicing incredible faith by tithing is paradoxical.
You’re honoring their faith by eating from it.
You’re dishonoring the Lord if you exploit it.
And none of us want to be the sons of Eli—grifting off the offerings until God personally handles business.
But when I first started traveling, my Dad told me, “Nate—never feel bad taking money from a church. They have it and they give it to what they prioritize.” And this was coming from the church miser. Once again—paradoxical. Dad cared about integrity deeply, but understood how the system worked.
The Retirement Nightmare
Here’s the real horror story:
Nobody takes care of pastors when they’re done.
Nobody.
The world is littered with retired pastors who have nothing.
I have a pastor friend who literally writes monthly checks to retired pastors because they have no savings, no pension, nothing. Only a pastor’s kid would truly understand how bad it is.
I have a heart for teachers—not just lead pastors but guys who have a teaching gift but never got the big stage—and TheosU has been my way to support them monthly. Having consistent income as a traveling speaker? Unheard of.Nobody has the capacity to be traveling every single weekend, and nobody has that many invitations.
So now pastors are asking me, “How do we convince the board?”
Because these guys don’t just need enough to live—they need enough to retire when their ministry years are over. Nobody’s passing them a pension. When they’re done, they’re done—and too many of them get left out to pasture with nothing to show for decades of work.
But That Question Makes Me Nervous.
Because if you have to convince the board that you deserve to be paid properly, then what you actually need isn’t a board.
You need an eldership.
Here’s the difference between an Eldership and a Board:
